You have to go all the way to Iqaluit or Inuvik for free wireless at an airport…God Bless small towns. We’re sitting here in the Inuvik Airport, stuffed polar bear staring at us, little kids in mukluks playing on the chairs, laptops on our laps, looking very ‘CITY’. Some things never change. All we need are chai latte’s and tea biscuits and we’re set…will have to settle for greasy, overpriced dishes at the airport restaurant.
On our trek home - finally. It’s flown by for us - new sights, and frankly, new everything. But for family back home, it’s probably gone so much slower without their favorite children around…don’t worry folks, we’re on our way to mend your hearts. 
It’s a good time for a break - coldest time of the year here in Inuvik. When we get back, the days will be much longer and warmer (according to my cabbie/meteorologist friends). Looking forward to that.
To all we’re leaving behind in the Arctic (for three short weeks) ‘HAHA’ (OK we’ll miss you) and to all we’re flying home to, we’ll see you when we get there.
B
Last night a bunch of us crowded into the public hot tub at the Midnight sun rec complex. In our post-aquafit state (read: all our silliness had been drained during the class using webbed gloves, buoyant leg warmers and generating silly dance moves), we, in varying states of ‘cooked’, sat and discussed feral children, incest, and the politics of the local youth center… three very separate conversations (ahem). We also noticed, to our dismay and late in the conversation, that there were skin cells building up like soap scum on the walls of the tub. Thus, the magic of the discussion dispersed and so did we.
I was on the jungle-gym-tower thingy at the gym where I dangled by my forearms and do pikes and lift my knees to my chest when I noticed it. I was on my third set and became aware of a very ‘anti-lock-brake’ motion in my leg descents. I couldn’t control it, felt so odd… Anyone watching closely would have seen me trying, in vain, to execute smooth and fluid motions and failing miserably. That happen to anyone else? Despite looking like a poser at the gym, I rarely lose control when trying to brake suddenly.
Boring night shift last night. Did lots of paperwork and studying. Tummy growling by 7am, yogurt wasn’t cutting it anymore. Trip home with a girlfriend, through sniffles and scratchy throat, under pale green lights, something uttered about marshmallows and toasters made me snort and later, Lee too. Life’s simple truths.
Early morning hash browns and sausage at the Eskimo Inn is a beautiful thing; especially when it’s minus 40 out and the company is good. Hats stay on (the world isn’t ready for these bed heads yet), mitts stuffed into jacket sleeves, scruffy faces and coffee mugs refilled at least once. Sleepy eyes confuse marmalade and honey (can there be raspberry marmalade or is orange the only kind?). Forgetting to pick ONE (bacon, ham OR sausage); darn, can’t have all three. Still, there’s something wonderful about eating breakfast someone else made. And after the cold walk home with a full belly, center of gravity shifted so icy steps are a hassle, crawling into a crisp bed, night-shift-tired, and drifting off with a heating blanket is so satisfying. As the chills subside and the warmth takes over, too weak and too happy to fight it, rest.
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