In the past, there have been many mentions on my blog about the frustrations of learning how to maneouver a new Arctic Cat...perhaps some of that has to do with the fact that it's my very first snowmobile, but AHHHH. Sometimes it's just impossible. Well, today it was something new - my starter isn't working properly. The engine will start with the spiked disc, but the part that pops out to do the job won't pop back in; it just results in high pitched grinding. I took the front end off this afternoon so I could tap it back into place, but I'm going to have to pay someone to actually fix it. Yay! More money!
As you can see on any northern blog, Clare's Nunies made their annual debut today. Feel free to nominate me...doesn't that sound pompous? Or desparate? You should at least surf through a few of the sites to check them out; there are a lot of great writers in Nunavut. Is it because we have nothing else to do? I thought about that idea for awhile, but I don't think it's true. I think it's more closely related to a Robert Service type of thing...although the Cremation of Sam McGee is a bit explicit, I like this passage from one of his other poems:
Have you ever known the Great White Silence, now a snow-gemmed twig aquiver?
(Eternal truths that shame our soothing lies.)
Have you broken trail on snowshoes? mushed your huskies up the river,
People in the north just have a lot to say...
Wow, I'm half watching the Rangers/Boston hockey game on tv right now and, I gotta say, there's one guy whose shorts are packed up in such a way that it really looks like a diaper. You know those Pamper commercials with the kid running around on his tip toes so he doesn't fall over? That's what he looks like when he skates!
I'm going to sign out now so I can go gaze at my tree with the Christmas lights. Like I mentioned before, the tree always stays up until after my birthday and the hours are ticking away...
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