Thursday, April 23, 2009

Weather Man

My hostess' brother is the Weather Man. He used to work for the weather service in Nome, as the weather forecaster, which is different from the meteorologist, but since he's entirely Inupiaq and born into snow, his instincts get cred. He was known to change the forecast the meteorologist in Fairbanks had for Nome, he'd call up and say: "Hey, do you know something I don't" and then they'd give in. He asked me to go for a ride up the road to see how far along they were on clearing it of snow, and how could I say no to that. I mean, who doesn't want to know how the road-clearing is going. About five miles out he nodded his consent and declared the road-workers were doing a much better job this year. He didn't say much else. He made jokes about things I didn’t understand, and as he’d forgotten his hearing aid, he couldn’t really hear me asking about it either. So we just laughed, which is what people do in the north when things get complicated. Laugh.

Friday, April 17, 2009

Fun with Framilends

They let me back in, these perky people of the north. The framilends grew in size, learned words in need of translation from bi-lingual interpreters, and acquired a particular fondness for puddle-jumping slash rolling. Basecamp Framilends is as warm and welcoming as always, the six-month old who became a one-year old is now a two-year old walking around the house saying “excuse me” and constantly reminding me that I came on a plane and live in the basement, or kjeller’n, as she speaks two languages simultaneously. A fairly accurate assesment of my life done by a two-year old. After I resupply at the grocery store where you can buy your eggs, milk, bread, flat-screen tv, gas, gun and garden furniture all in one go, I bid farewell to fair Faribanks and get on a plane. Nome next.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Disclosure: NYC

My brother works in finance, NYC. Admirable, perhaps a little free-falling at the moment, and all very hush-hush. When I get an email from the bro, let's say to remind me of dinner reservations at 8, I also get a full disclosure underneath stating that the message contains confidential information only intended for the named individual(s) above. In this case me. If I'm not that person, I can't read nor distribute the information anywhere or pass it along. I am also informed that the message does not contain any investment advice, nor should I take it as a recommendation to buy or sell anything. I wonder if purchasing food and eating it is considered an investment. I'll have to ask the bro at 8, we have dinner reservations and I'm disclosing that here...

Grandma Giggles

Grandma giggles. Especially when it comes to her main man Ares, the dog, who unfortunately had an accident and tore his nail. Now he gets to look silly with a tract over his head, and grandma gets to get appalled that I'd photograph him in such a state, apparently I'm inconsiderate of his feelings... I miss grandma.

Circum Circus

Sun! In the polar regions there’s sometimes a circle around the sun, but nobody seems to remember what that means. It has something to do with the weather, this much is agreed, but the old folk tales have been lost on the townies of Tromsø. I bid my farevell to Tromsø for the summer, headed for another advendture in Alaska. Four months of frisky funness, stay tuned!