Oooooooh! Blue sea ice!
Actually these pictures have nothing to do with this post other than serving as a feeble attempt to distract my readers from the little blond moment I had Saturday out at the cliffs. Now, having lived here for almost 3 years, most people recognize me pretty quickly (social butterfly that I am). I, on the other hand, still find myself stumbling over a few names here and there even if I do recognize a person by sight. This, however, tends to get a bit tricky in the cold season, when people are lot more bundled up. Toques, balaclavas and skidoo goggles....they all get in your way. I suppose most people would then go by voice but I was a piano major in university and everyone knows pianists are prone to tone deafness.
Anyhow, where am I going with all this? I was set to start my walk back to town from the cliffs yesterday when a gentleman pulled up on a skidoo. After he shut off the engine and I fumbled to pull the ear buds for my Ipod out of my ears , he asked if I was out taking some pictures for my blog. After I confirmed that I was, he then offered me a ride back into town. The thing is, I was racking my little brain trying to figure out the identity of my benefactor. Initially I thought it was the father of one of my students until I remembered that he was out of the community at Mary's River (where, it looks like an iron ore mine will be on the go in the future.) I briefly toyed with the idea of throwing out a random name, thinking he wold correct my mistake and then the mystery skidooer's identity would be revealed. But I was a bit too embarrassed at getting the name wrong when I felt I should really know it, so I hesitated. (Come on now, we've all been there. Admit it.) Black skidoo, red parka, sun glasses......his voice sounded familiar.......uhm....ok, he mentioned my blog....still nothing. Come on Darcy, you're the Social Studies teacher here, so you should be social and know these things. Anyhow, I hopped on the back for the short trip into town and I remember sitting there trying to figure out the man's identity.
We stopped at the bottom of the hill in town and my driver asked me if that was a good enough place to let me off. Sure, I said, no worries. I thanked him for the lift and headed to the shore, then up the hill and home. All the while racking my peanut and still feeling a tad embarrassed with myself for the brain freeze on my ride's name. It was one of those things that was just on the tip of my tongue that I knew I would probably remember once I was well up the hill and too far away to turn around and thank the man by his proper name.
Fast forward to this evening. I'm checking through some of my favorite blogs and I come across Clare's post on a short gyrfalcon excursion on Saturday. He also got some good pictures. He also picked up a wayward passenger on his way back to town. Me.
Wait...think blue sea ice. Heh...I knew that wouldn't work.
The man with the long teeth
5 days ago