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[Nov. 27th, 2009|05:28 pm] |
Man down, pools of blood, sister kneeling next to my dad, on ice under the hot sun, paramedics, ice skates. Happy Thanksgiving! (Obligatory spoiler: All is well, well, well enough.)
( Story of dad's ER room visit )
Anyways, public service announcement: Don't skate with your hands clasped behind you. Not even in Central park.
And wear safety gear, sheesh.
Meanwhile, here's Amelia playing piano:
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| save the date |
[Nov. 22nd, 2009|10:29 pm] |
2010 February 13
Semiannual Antivalentine's Day Party
SPACE:1969 |
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| Update from Churchill Center for Northern Studies |
[Nov. 11th, 2009|06:17 pm] |
Well, I was about to compose some involved bit of poetry about the last several days, the joy of intersecting airline routes where ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) debkakes and I met up with occlupanid & soundhive in Seattle, the quaint but sophisticated town of Missoula, the torturous day on the bus and the luxurious day and a half on the train, the kinda-sorta-arctic research station with its old school and I do mean school furnishings and fine kitchen and yes rec room with 2 or 3 well-worn vhs tapes (Romero's Day of the Dead, Carpenter's The Thing), the 2 days out around Churchill spotting polar bear after polar bear and white fox, black box, red fox ("Set!"), the low clunking of ice chunks in the Hudson Bay sounding like the biggest glass of scotch you ever heard...
But as I sat here in the lounge
getting ready to mention all that: POLAR BEAR!!!
There was a knock on the door. One of our guides, Shannon, made to reflexively answer it and then checked herself. Jen looked out the window, first.
Immediately after, the dog Silver was despatched to attend to the matter. Round the side of the building he ran, and right back to the front he came pursued by the bear. A few flare-shots later and the bear was sent back to the tundra. Hi, bye. |
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