The Wee Fuzzball

Earlier this morning as I was sitting down to begin grading final reports for the undergraduate and graduate courses I’ve been teaching this semester, I was immediately interrupted by probably the most horrifying sound I’ve ever had the misfortune of hearing.

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Northern Lights IV

Having spent the weekend at Sandi and Karl’s cabin on English River, we’d returned to Rigolet a wee exhausted, but also quite rejuvenated. There’s nothing quite like a sense of relative isolation to clear the head.

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Northern Lights III

We awoke on our third day at Karl and Sandi’s cabin to learn that the temperatures had dropped even lower than the day before. I may have shivered and snuggled a little deeper into my blankets on the news that it was -25C outside, and that wasn’t factoring in the windchill.

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Northern Lights II

After the sun had set on the first day at the cabin, after we thawed ourselves and filled our bellies with roasted caribou and fresh coffee, and after we’d laughed until it hurt, we all began to settle in to bed.

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