I just read a post by Artic-ulate hanging out there in Iqaluit, and she mentions meeting 'Ms. Bastard'. What she says is true: though all of us (bloggers) try not to give out too much personal information - the small communities of the north can't handle it - we all end up sharing little pieces of ourself. Not a profound thought, but one that crosses my mind everytime I visit this site. I wonder what kind of construct has been created to explain the group of us here in Pang.
Now, I'm not bilingual by any means but for some reason, when I looked at this I knew porte meant door. I also thought it was the weirdest thing that it said Judas Porte. I figured it was the new name; something used to figure out who you should trust. Not so far from it, I suppose.
Throughout the week, Pang has been on the edge of snow; there've been a few flakes here and there, but nothing substantial. Nothing that lasted for more than 10 minutes (if that). That's not quite the truth of it today. It snowed and snowed...in fact I think it's still going on out there...nothing too heavy, just constant. The stream that pours down the mountian has iced up around the corners, and it looks like we're moving into the next season.
My mountains have disappeared...you see Duval peeking out from behind and the rear side of my building, but that's about it; I like the snowflakes my camera picked up. And hey, the next picture shows the hill which almost had me on my butt walking home from school. Who knew ice could form on gravel already? There must've been something underneath to make it so slippery.
So many times throughout the day I find myself taking mental notes of things...'hey, I should write about that on my blog', but I always seem to go blank when I my fingers hit the keyboard. Go figure.
The season premiere of Dollhouse is on right now. Very cool. I'm distracted.