Sunday, February 3, 2008
Sunrise, with ice fog
This morning's sunrise over Great Slave Lake, photo taken about 9:15 a.m., -44C.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Not that I'm obssessed
. . . about the weather, but take a look at the photo I shot at 11 a.m. this morning, as I was heading out to do my icky-Saturday-shopping-chores.
Yesterday the NWT Power Corporation asked people in Yellowknife and Behchoko to voluntarily conserve power, so that the whole grid doesn't go down. I work in the Government of Canada building, and the owners put the building on emergency backup during peak usage hours, to help reduce the strain on the system. So far things are holding. The only outage occurred a few nights ago, and the brown-out that preceded that one fried TVs across the city, including ours. :-(
Yesterday the NWT Power Corporation asked people in Yellowknife and Behchoko to voluntarily conserve power, so that the whole grid doesn't go down. I work in the Government of Canada building, and the owners put the building on emergency backup during peak usage hours, to help reduce the strain on the system. So far things are holding. The only outage occurred a few nights ago, and the brown-out that preceded that one fried TVs across the city, including ours. :-(
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Mercury still dropping
Sad to report that January 16 was not the coldest night of the year. When I got up this morning it was -47C. And if that isn't freaky enough, the power went off last night for a good hour. We have a woodstove, and I quickly sized up the logs stacked next to it. Time to lay in a bigger supply, I'd say. There's a lot of ice fog right now - probably caused hoar frost on the power lines, and that caused the outage.
To celebrate the cold snap, I climbed to the top of Bush Pilots Monument this evening to take a photo of the ice fog over the city. Here's what I got (in addition to frostbitten fingers).
To celebrate the cold snap, I climbed to the top of Bush Pilots Monument this evening to take a photo of the ice fog over the city. Here's what I got (in addition to frostbitten fingers).
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Coldest night of the year?
Went down to -41C last night. Not surprising for January in Yellowknife.
Compensations? Saw the northern lights last night while walking home from work. When it's cold, it's clear, and it's the first time in ages that I've seen them. Spent today in a workshop in a local hotel conference room. From the windows we could see down the Franklin Avenue hill to the Old Town. Trees, rocks, the Franklin Avenue Trailer Park - everything white and misty with ice fog. At mid-morning a nice pastel sunrise - yellow, pink, a touch of blue sky before the clouds moved in.
It's -34C right now - things are heating up!
Compensations? Saw the northern lights last night while walking home from work. When it's cold, it's clear, and it's the first time in ages that I've seen them. Spent today in a workshop in a local hotel conference room. From the windows we could see down the Franklin Avenue hill to the Old Town. Trees, rocks, the Franklin Avenue Trailer Park - everything white and misty with ice fog. At mid-morning a nice pastel sunrise - yellow, pink, a touch of blue sky before the clouds moved in.
It's -34C right now - things are heating up!
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Christmas in Yellowknife
Another holiday season draws to a close. The Christmas cookies are long gone. All that remains of the turkey is an inch of soup in the bottom of the pot. The eggnog I feel compelled to buy every year was used to make French toast this morning.
This Christmas has been relatively quiet - the festive season in Yellowknife is generally a month-long binge of eating and drinking as we all try to blow off some steam, bulk up our fat reserves to counter the -30 degree weather, and try to forget that we're getting a mere four hours of sunlight a day . . . and that's only if the sun actually shines. (Which it hasn't been, lately.)
A highlight of the season was a reveillon (French Canadian Christmas Eve celebration) out on one of the houseboats. In the summer the houseboats bob happily on the waters of Yellowknife Bay; in winter, of course, they are frozen into the ice. There was a bonfire outside, and a toasty woodstove inside, along with tourtiere, sugar pie, salad rolls (okay, not a French Canadian speciality, but memorable just the same), and many other treats. In years gone by, we'd go to parties on another of the houseboats. The road across the ice to that one was fairly straight, and when the house was quiet and a vehicle was approaching, it sounded like a bowling ball coming down the alley.
The downtime over the holiday was been a good thing - 2007 was a bit much, at times. I'm now getting my ducks in a row for 2008. I've made arrangements to go to some writing events, started a new piece, and bought a new memory card for my camera, so I can take more YK pics. Onward, ho.
This Christmas has been relatively quiet - the festive season in Yellowknife is generally a month-long binge of eating and drinking as we all try to blow off some steam, bulk up our fat reserves to counter the -30 degree weather, and try to forget that we're getting a mere four hours of sunlight a day . . . and that's only if the sun actually shines. (Which it hasn't been, lately.)
A highlight of the season was a reveillon (French Canadian Christmas Eve celebration) out on one of the houseboats. In the summer the houseboats bob happily on the waters of Yellowknife Bay; in winter, of course, they are frozen into the ice. There was a bonfire outside, and a toasty woodstove inside, along with tourtiere, sugar pie, salad rolls (okay, not a French Canadian speciality, but memorable just the same), and many other treats. In years gone by, we'd go to parties on another of the houseboats. The road across the ice to that one was fairly straight, and when the house was quiet and a vehicle was approaching, it sounded like a bowling ball coming down the alley.
The downtime over the holiday was been a good thing - 2007 was a bit much, at times. I'm now getting my ducks in a row for 2008. I've made arrangements to go to some writing events, started a new piece, and bought a new memory card for my camera, so I can take more YK pics. Onward, ho.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Yellowknife loses the Fish Lady
I returned home from holidays this week to sad news - Nancy Buckley, Yellowknife's Fish Lady, passed away on December 4. She died suddenly, of natural causes. She was 46.
Nancy and her husband, Archie, own a fish plant on the edge of Jolliffe Island, just across the channel from the government wharf. On a winter's afternoon, I'd whip over there on my snowmobile to pick up fillets. Sometimes trout, sometimes jackfish, but more often than not I'd get their fabulous white fish. I'd clump up the steps of the plant - a prefab industrial building - and down the hall to the shop. Although people came and went all the time, I usually had to ring the bell. Through the door across the hall I'd see Nancy filleting. A slip of the knife, and she'd finish the one she was working on, then come help me.
I've always thought of Nancy a bit of a Flower Child - she had long straight hair, wore comfortable clothes and was always happy, always smiling. The Buckleys charge for fish by the fillet, and if she thought one of the pieces was too small, she'd quietly slip an extra into the bag. "Give those a little shower before you cook them," was her usual advice.
In the summer, when the fish plant was not accessible, she'd sell fish off the back of her truck in front of the KFC.
She was a Yellowknife icon.
If you want some idea of the impact of her death on the community, check out the CBC North website. CBC has been reading some of these tributes on the morning show this week.
Her funeral was held this afternoon. Bet the place was packed.
Nancy and her husband, Archie, own a fish plant on the edge of Jolliffe Island, just across the channel from the government wharf. On a winter's afternoon, I'd whip over there on my snowmobile to pick up fillets. Sometimes trout, sometimes jackfish, but more often than not I'd get their fabulous white fish. I'd clump up the steps of the plant - a prefab industrial building - and down the hall to the shop. Although people came and went all the time, I usually had to ring the bell. Through the door across the hall I'd see Nancy filleting. A slip of the knife, and she'd finish the one she was working on, then come help me.
I've always thought of Nancy a bit of a Flower Child - she had long straight hair, wore comfortable clothes and was always happy, always smiling. The Buckleys charge for fish by the fillet, and if she thought one of the pieces was too small, she'd quietly slip an extra into the bag. "Give those a little shower before you cook them," was her usual advice.
In the summer, when the fish plant was not accessible, she'd sell fish off the back of her truck in front of the KFC.
She was a Yellowknife icon.
If you want some idea of the impact of her death on the community, check out the CBC North website. CBC has been reading some of these tributes on the morning show this week.
Her funeral was held this afternoon. Bet the place was packed.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
My secret life
I spent last weekend in beautiful Burnaby, B.C., at a workshop for belly dance instructors.
Yes, it's true - not only do I belly dance, I've been teaching others how-to for the past year and a half.
Some people in Yellowknife are aware of my secret identity as a belly dance instructor - the City of Yellowknife Recreation Guide is a well-read document, after all. But many friends and acquaintances are just too darn busy with their own lives to notice. And when they do, most think it's cool - belly dance has a bad rep in some quarters, but Yellowknife is an easy-going place.
I started belly dancing about four years ago, and recommend it for writers, students and others who spend long stretches of time sitting at a computer. Wrist circles are great for loosening up tight muscles in the hands and forearms, and my massage therapist has had much less work to do on my upper back since I started doing shoulder rolls. And anything that get the blood circulating and more oxygen into your system is a good thing. It's also a really good excuse for spending far too much money on fabulous costumes and jewellery.
The workshop gave me a lot of ideas about how to improve my class, and I was introduced to some new moves I need to master. Also had an opportunity to see some of the local dancers perform on Sunday night - they're a talented crew down in Vancouver.
Yes, it's true - not only do I belly dance, I've been teaching others how-to for the past year and a half.
Some people in Yellowknife are aware of my secret identity as a belly dance instructor - the City of Yellowknife Recreation Guide is a well-read document, after all. But many friends and acquaintances are just too darn busy with their own lives to notice. And when they do, most think it's cool - belly dance has a bad rep in some quarters, but Yellowknife is an easy-going place.
I started belly dancing about four years ago, and recommend it for writers, students and others who spend long stretches of time sitting at a computer. Wrist circles are great for loosening up tight muscles in the hands and forearms, and my massage therapist has had much less work to do on my upper back since I started doing shoulder rolls. And anything that get the blood circulating and more oxygen into your system is a good thing. It's also a really good excuse for spending far too much money on fabulous costumes and jewellery.
The workshop gave me a lot of ideas about how to improve my class, and I was introduced to some new moves I need to master. Also had an opportunity to see some of the local dancers perform on Sunday night - they're a talented crew down in Vancouver.
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