Wildlife viewing on the Alaska Highway and Haines Road

A moose near Haines Pass. Photo by Christa Galloway.

One of the exciting things about living in the Yukon is the possibility of seeing some of the resident wildlife population. There is no shortage of magnificent creatures roaming the great northern wilderness. We've seen bison, bear, moose, caribou, lynx and bobcat. This week-end, travelling from Whitehorse to Haines along the Alaska Highway and Haines Road we saw our first elk.

An elk just off the Alaska Highway west of Whitehorse. Photo by Christa Galloway.

Haines, known as the "Valley of the Eagles" has an influx thousands of eagles during the fall and winter. Many eagles can be seen on the flats of the Chilkat River along the Haines Highway between miles 18 and 24 where they fish for salmon. We stopped a few times to photograph the regal birds on their high perches and even saw one making several passes over the river before scooping up fish.

An eagle fishes on the Chilkat River. Photo by Christa Galloway.

An eagle keeps a watchful eye on it's high perch just outside of Haines, Alaska. Photo by Christa Galloway. — An eagle keeps a watchful eye on it's high perch just outside of Haines, Alaska. Photo by Christa Galloway.

South, to Alaska

We went south this week-end.

Warm temperatures, green grass, friendly locals and sunshine greeted us in the lovely small town of Haines, Alaska. It's not quite Mexico, but after a few days of strolling around town without a jacket with the sun beating down on my skin, I feel like I've had a bit of a respite from the long Yukon winter. Only 3 months to go!

The Fish Ladder

Oscar at the Fish ladder in August. Photo by Christa Galloway.

Oscar's first day of school

Oscar sets his face, but the slight quiver of his bottom lip gives away his emotion. He’s just been given a rapid set of instructions about line-ups and backpacks and bells and doors. It has only now sunk in that he’s about to leave his parents and step into the relative unknown. It’s his first day of kindergarten and he is taking the first step of a journey that may decades and will fundamentally change his life.

Oscar outside his Kindergarten class on his first day of school.

As Oscar's mother, today a different journey begins for me. I feel a stab in my heart as I sense his fear and it takes a deliberate effort not to scoop up my child and take him home. He gives me a good-bye hug and I feel him bravely steeling himself even while he clings to the contact a fraction longer than usual. Today I sensed a shift. He became slightly more independent, more his own person. He grew up a little.

“The first day is often harder on the parents than the children,” says Oscar’s kindergarten teacher. She must have seen right through the smile and casual pose I had put on, partially to put Oscar at ease and partially as a defence against the unexpected emotions washing over me in waves. I attempted a nonchalant shrug but I’m pretty sure I didn’t pull it off.

I surprised myself when I burst into tears driving to work. As proud as I was of Oscar starting a new stage in his life, I also felt the loss of the stages past.

Oscar’s first day was a success. He had his ups and downs but he’s very excited about making gingerbread people at school tomorrow. I consider my day a success, if only because I resisted the urge to race to the school to check on Oscar. I did manage to develop both an eye twitch and a neck twitch though. And I may have snapped at a few of my workmates - okay, all my workmates.

I know tomorrow will be easier - for both of us.

My gold

Once and a while as I navigate Whitehorse rush hour traffic, driving past posh coffee shops and trendy city folk, I wonder why I moved to the Yukon.

Then again, on occasion, it becomes blatantly obvious why I moved to the Yukon.

Last week-end was one of those occasions.

My family and I spent the week-end with Rich’s buddy and mechanically-minded northerner, Mike, at their claim near Carmacks, about four hours from Whitehorse. The road from Carmacks progresses in stages from gravel road to rocky track. The last 10 minutes of the drive is a harrowing experience on a narrow track sandwiched between a cliff edge and a mountainside with some rather large potholes (or small canyons, depending how you want to look at it.)

Once we reached the top of the road and I managed to pry my fingers from the "oh s**t" handles, I had a chance to take in my surroundings.

The campsite is a small patch of cleared land on the crest of a hill overlooking the mountains in the distance, miles from anything resembling a cell signal. There are no camping fees, outhouses or picnic tables here, just us, what we brought with us and what is provided by nature. We’re not alone though. The area is home to some impressive wildlife. During our drive we frequently came across wild animals, including a bear and a lynx. In fact, we saw more wildlife this weekend then we did during our entire week-long trip to Alaska last month.

The claim is even more remote then the campsite. It’s another 20 minute ride on an ATV to the valley where Mike is convinced there is gold.

While the men went mining, Oscar and I hunted for edible plants armed with a detailed field guide. We found blueberries, black crowberries, rosehips and cloudberries in the subarctic flora, as well as several medicinal plants. Many of the berries were’t quite ready yet but we fried up some fireweed shoots to garnish our burgers and sausages for dinner and made a delicious tea from the dried leaves of fireweed and yarrow. (Richard was quite wary of trying the tea but even he said it was nice - and he's British!)

“It’s so quiet,” Oscar claimed at one point. While this may be true for him, the fact that he keeps up a fairly steady stream of chatter during his waking hours meant it wasn’t quite as true for me. Never-the-less, the steady buzz of human-produced noise we are so used to was noticeably absent.

Out here, miles from civilization, with only the tenuous link of a satellite GPS tracker linking us to the outside world, we really are on our own. A fringe of wary watchfulness and sense of danger exists at all times, just at the edge of consciousness.

Not far from our campsite we climbed some rocky peaks with a 360 view which Oscar claimed as his castles. We could see for miles and miles without any sign of other people.

It was fantastic.

As of yet, Rich and Mike haven't found the golden nugget that will make us filthy rich. They seem content with the the cold beer by the fire after a day of physical labour, the possibilities and the experience.

My gold, it's is the quiet, the peace, the independence, the nature and the wild. There are over 180,000 square miles of it out there, only a few minutes from just about anywhere in the Yukon.

My gold is remembering why we moved to the Yukon.

Five Fingers Recreation Site

Did you know that in the Yukon winter the ground squirrel's body temperature can reach lower than zero degrees celsius? This is one of the many fact I learned yesterday from the information panels at the Five Fingers Recreation Site near Carmacks. P… — Did you know that in the Yukon winter the ground squirrel's body temperature can reach lower than zero degrees celsius? This is one of the many fact I learned yesterday from the information panels at the Five Fingers Recreation Site near Carmacks. Plus there's this view...

The strange and wonderful world of the Yukon through a macro lens

This afternoon I explored a different world, and it was only 10 minutes from my house.

Something magical happens in the woods when you take a closer look. There is a world of activity and change going on right before our eyes, it's just too small to see unless you are very very close.

Ever since we moved to the Yukon I've felt very grateful to have abundant nature literally on my doorstep. This afternoon, I headed out to the Hidden Lakes trails with my a 100mm Macro Lens on my camera, no schedule to keep and no one's agenda but my own. I've walked this trail before and admired the flowers and scenery, but this time I saw the local flora in a whole new way.

As usual, the Wild Rose was abundant and beautiful, but this time I noticed the plant in all it's stages.

Once I started looking closer I discovered insects everywhere in the midst of their mysterious rites. I tried to guess at their motives as they continued in their inscrutable ways, oblivious to my presence. I saw ant acrobatics, bees with strange orange pouches, something that might have been an ant daycare and I think I photographed beetle porn or cannibalism, I'm not sure which.

The flowers, leaves and mosses I encountered became stranger and more detailed as I looked closer. Where once I saw a "Purple Flower," now their individuality became apparent, not just in the flowers themselves, but their leaves and stems as well.

Lovin' Whitehorse Summer Days

Oscar (aka "The Flash") triumphantly shows off his super hero pose after successfully navigating the perils of running across the lawn while the sprinkler is on.

We've been pretty lucky with the weather lately here in Whitehorse. We've had weeks of sunny days with afternoon temperatures between 20C and 25C. Our family has taken advantage of these (almost) summer days by going on hikes, visiting the splash park, strolls along the lake and a week-end trip to Atlin. Today, we just stayed home and enjoyed our little place in Riverdale. Who knew lawn care equipment could be so darn fun!

Road trip to Carcross

Saturday was a rare warm day (about 10C woohoo) and with Richard away mining (yes, Rich has a touch of gold fever, more on that later) I decided to take Ozzie on a wee road trip. As I drove away from Whitehorse on the South Klondike highway with sweeping mountain views rolling past the car windows, I remembered how cathartic the daily drive to and from our old place on Annie Lake Road was. The stop-and-go Riverdale traffic with a dash of kamakaze pedestrians thrown in, is not quite the same. I felt all my worries float away on the breeze and a wide smile found itself on my face. Ozzie, of course, was oblivious as he was immersed in his iPad game. I know, bad mummy, but I've done several long road trips with Oscar and in my opinion a slightly naughty, but sane mother is much preferable to the alternative (mother in a straightjacket at a suitable facility rocking back and forth and mumbling incoherently.)

We got in lots of quality time in and around Carcross. We had a coffee date at Caribou Coffee. Actually it was more of a chai latte & hot chocolate date, my boy is not going near coffee until either he has left home or I've gone deaf. We explored the Emerald Lake (still frozen), Tutshi memorial, the White Pass Yukon Route train station, Bennett beach and Carcross Desert. Although the weather was beautiful, this early in the spring the roads were empty and there were very few people in town.

We laughed, we saw swans, we pet dogs, we had no timeline and just enjoyed the day. I loved being able to say yes to (almost) every request Oscar had and I let him direct the day.

On our way to the car after our last stop, Oscar grabbed my hand and said, "Do you know what mummy?"

"What?" I asked, waiting for the usual obscure dinosaur fact that this question usually prefaced.

"I had a really fun day with you."

Heart. Melting.

We rounded out the trip with an ice cream at Marble Slab in Whitehorse, me, with the warm fuzzies, and Oscar with a sugar high.

The art of staying still

South Canol Road near Ross River, Yukon. Photo by Christa Galloway.

I have a good job, a nice place to live, a wonderful family and some fantastic friends. My life is normal. For the first time… ever. I never thought a nice normal life would be so hard to adjust to.

Moving is easy. You know there is something else ahead so you don’t have to worry too much about the present. Staying still is a bit more challenging for me. It’s forcing me to look at my life a bit deeper. If something is wrong I can’t just hope the next move will fix it. There is no next move.

The good news is that I’ve finally found a place where I feel like I belong. Although I get the occasional urge to pick and go to Jamaica, Argentina or Qatar (depending on who I talk to and what turns up in my news feed) I fundamentally know I am happier here than I would be anywhere else. This is a place where (almost) everyone comes from somewhere else and there is no normal. There are city slickers hanging out at posh coffee shops, miners in local bars, tourists in cargo shorts, computer geeks, moms, dads, hippies, business people, drunks and various combinations. The diversity here reminds me of life on cruise ships. I love it. I’ve come perilously close to fitting in.

Unfortunately, in the “Whack-a-mole” that is my life, as the big problems are overcome, previously small problems expand and fill the space. Even in the absence of multiplying problems, there is always the huge mole overlooking the game. “What is it all for?” it bellows. “What is your purpose?” it insists.

So now that there are no big issues that require big changes to focus my attention on, the real challenge is enjoying existence. Not just moments. It easy to be happy in that moment when Oscar goes down the slide at the pool by himself and comes up with water streaming from his huge grin, or when Rich and I are sitting together with a glass of wine watching Game of Thrones. It’s harder to be content in the still moments, those in-between moments where there is nothing to distract you. Just you and the giant mole.

Methinks I need a big hammer.

Two weeks alone III

Day Fourteen

I had a productive day at work today. My boss even said I had a good idea. Hallelujah. Went home, took the dog for a walk, made guacamole for dinner and watched a movie. I’m sure in a few days I’ll be in the midst of family chaos and look back at this quiet peaceful day with envy but a boring easy life would not be my choice.

Day Fifteen

Today at work everyone needed everything done yesterday; a bit stressful but everything worked out. Another frozen meal for dinner, this one was actually quite delicious. I’m not ashamed to admit I indulged a bit on my last night of solitude, a glass of wine, a long bath, a book and a bit of introspection. I think I may be just learning to enjoy this. Tomorrow at midnight, the boys return. Looking forward to lots of hugs.

Today

The boys are back! I got my fix of hugs, cuddles and love. I am a very happy addict.

My house is now filled with the traditional clutter, noises and spirit. I get interrupted 20 times a day, there are globs of toothpaste smeared down the sink, every few seconds someone asks me where something is, and it’s fantastic. I feel like myself for the first time in two weeks.

It seems strange to me that I need two other people in my life to feel like myself, but that seems to be the way it is. I started these two weeks thinking about how I’m an independent woman and I’d be just fine on my own but I learned something a little different. I discovered that while I am a person, myself, without anyone else and I even like that version of me, but I’m more comfortable as “myself” with my family. I also learned that I can exist by myself and it's good for me to try things outside of my cosy family circle. I grow with each new, even “uncomfortable” experience.

Rich and Ozzie had a fantastic time in England. Their photos are priceless. Even more priceless is the time they got to spend with Richard’s family. Plus they returned with supplies of British tea and chocolate... ooh and presents. Awesome.

So, I’m happy things are back to normal and I’m glad I got a chance to become re-acquainted with the old me. I have a new appreciation for the value of family and a new confidence to go out and try things in the big bad scary world.

Oh yes, and I had a full-on home-cooked meal.

Two weeks alone II

Day Ten

I’ve noticed that since I’ve been alone, I’ve been craving human connection. I’ve also noticed how hard it is to get sometimes. I spent the day at work spending quality time with my computer. After work I contemplated going to a movie alone, for the sole purpose of being around people, even strangers. However, because of an incident involving being in the checkout line at the supermarket, realizing I did not have my wallet and driving home to get it, I missed the movie. New plan, a walk in the woods, a glass of wine, some general house pottering and an episode of my favourite TV show. I ended up enjoying my evening, maybe because I had a big Skype chat with the boys at lunch, or because I’m getting used to this, or maybe because I’m figuring out that I’m not such a bad person to hang out with.
It has become clear to me that I take for granted my usual feeling of well-being. I know I’m loved every second of every day because I have a husband who is my best friend and a loving, engaging, hilarious and intelligent son. I have not felt lonely in a very long time. Having felt it keenly the last few days I have the urge to give every lonely person out there a big hug, stoke their hair and make them feel better (without being creepy, of course.) I wish we could all approach each other easier. Why is it so easy for us to be sarcastic with each other and so hard to say “I like you?” Why is it okay to ignore the people around you, but not okay to show affection? We sit at home with our independence and our iPhones and live through television programs, occupying the same planet as everyone else but not reaching across the electronic barrier.
I’m the same. Here I am, connecting with people over this blog and Facebook because I have a carefully constructed metaphorical fortress around me. This mostly one-way connection of myself, projecting outwards, is my easiest way to share myself.

Day Eleven

I went to see my friend Erin play at the Gold Pan Saloon Open Mic Night. I jumped on the idea when she texted me, which must have surprised her because I’m usually lame and bail. I invited Marie, partly because she’s pretty cool and I want to get to know her better, but also because I knew I wouldn’t know anyone there and my social anxiety would undoubtedly kick in (this is usually the reason I bail).

Surprisingly I met some new people and the whole social anxiety thing never happened. They all seemed neat and interesting. I didn’t feel judged, in fact, the feeling I had bordered on comfortable. The music was cathartic. Erin did two numbers, an original blend of folk and hiphop. I admired the bravery of all those musicians, facing fears and putting themselves out there, not because they have to, to survive, but because they want to, to live.

Day Thirteen

I didn’t blog yesterday. I was a bit down because I didn’t get to Skype with my boys. Also, I was struggling with a change going on inside myself and I didn’t know quite how to articulate it.

These 12 days have been a journey for me. It started with denial. The first night I fixated on cleaning the house before the lady came to measure the windows for blinds and I buried myself in TV and told myself that this was great. My resolve slowly deteriorated from there. I was spending a great deal of time alone, with myself and it was like being with a stranger. I’ve identified myself as a wife and mother for so long that I struggled, being by my self, away from the source of my identity. For the last four years, if you asked me who I was, I would say “mother” and if you asked me what I want, I would say, “for my son to be happy.” And this is still true. But I come to the realization over the last couple of week, with some bumps along the way, that I am also me, and it’s not immediately obvious to me what I want. Being a wife and mother is a huge part of my life, but it’s not everything, and I’ve lost touch with myself a bit.

Last night the loneliness of the house was so oppressive I almost went out - anywhere - to escape it. I stayed in. I spent hours listening to music and thinking. This morning I woke up early and oddly happy. Loose thoughts jangled around in my head as I tidied the house, made breakfast, had a bath, did some reading and took Maggie for a long walk. This morning I was okay. More than okay. I was happy in my own skin. I was entertained by my own thoughts. I even looked in the mirror this morning admired my own appearance instead of picking out every flaw which has not happened in a long time (unless in retrospect to my younger, skinnier days.) Today my own skin is like a comfortable warm blanket.

Something has changed. I’ve been neglecting a part of myself and we kissed and made up. We hung out. It’s like we were never apart.

Day Fourteen

Today (Sunday) I have big plans to do laundry and chill. Instead of writing about my laundry detergent (well, I actually use soap nuts and it's quite interesting, but another day) let me tell you about yesterday...

TK-471 at the Northern Lights Resort and Spa.

Yesterday I went to Northern Lights Resort and Spa to practise drone flying with my boss and his son. We got some great shots of sweeping vistas and I learned interesting facts about spiders, including that there is a spider as big as a dinner plate. I'm enjoying having a job where one day I’m at my desk designing posters and the next day I’m photographing a restaurant or flying a drone.

Then I went on a face paint acquiring mission for Burning Away the Winter Blues, which involved me staring at the face paint section of the dollar store for a good 15 minutes, having had zero experience in this field. Eventually, mission achieved and realizing there was a good three hours before the winter blues burning, I bribed a co-worker into hanging out with me. Yeah, so my new-found joy at hanging out with myself is doing battle with the ghost of the big, empty, quiet house and I lost.

An effigy is thrown into a bonfire at the Burning away the Winter Blues event in Whitehorse, 2015.  Photo by Christa Galloway. — An effigy is thrown into a bonfire at the Burning away the Winter Blues event in Whitehorse, 2015. Photo by Christa Galloway.

Burning Away the Winter Blues is an annual event in Whitehorse, celebrating the Equinox and the arrival of spring. I went with my friend Erin and her friends Sylvie and Andre. Before we left we face painted. Well, I doodled on my hand and took photos. I'm a few steps away from being secure enough to paint my face.

We were a few minutes late so we rushed to join the parade of people from the SS Klondike along the Yukon River to the Robert Service Campground with torches and drums and a giant effigy with glowing green eyes. At the end of the parade, the effigy was carried around the fire and tossed in, to the cheers of the crowd. It was fun, interesting and visual and I lost myself in my photography for a while.

While I captured other people's cathartic experiences, my own aversion to crowds was edging it's way into my awareness. Once the haze of photographic euphoria faded, I stuck it out, trying my best to stay cool as I sweat, swathed in my heavy coat in the heat of the fire pressed in on all sides by people, but in the end, I had to break out. I spent some time alone on the outskirts, where there were lots of little groups of friends and families and children on their dad’s shoulders. I thought about Rich and Ozzie. I felt invisible and conspicuous at the same time.

I ended up accepting my own limits, and abandoned ship so to speak. I stumbled down the dark, icy path, away from the fire. The further I got from all the people and the crisper the air got, the better I could breath. Complicated emotions of relief and disappointment competed with each other. I became aware that my feeling of connection with people and the universe was gone. I felt sad but free and I realized, I haven’t changed. As Richard’s dad would say, I’m still just FINE (F—cked-up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional). I don't know, maybe I'm okay with that.

I’m going to go ahead and assume it’s a process. There will be revelations and set-backs. One day I want to love myself and everyone around me, see the best in people and live in the oneness of everything.

Either that or I’ll be hermit in the woods and not f—cking worry about it.

Two weeks alone

Recently my husband and son went on a trip to England. As I haven't been alone in quite some time, I had very little idea of what would happen. Here is my experience so far:

Day One

Not as lonely as I’d feared. Cleaned the house today and it has stayed clean for four hours so far. That’s 3 hours and 55 minutes longer than average, a miracle. Was not too nostalgic as I picked up tiny Lego pieces off the floor, cleaned bright green globs of toothpaste from the sink and removed tiny orange handprints from various surfaces. Dinner of mac & cheese and ice cream with my favourite tv show, uninterrupted. The good diet will start tomorrow. :) Tired after my early start to the day (3:30). Is 8pm too early to go to bed?

Day Two

It was hard to get out of bed this morning, knowing that there would be no snuggly cuddles with Oscar (and with the absence of Richard’s alarm being snoozed twice before mine goes off once). When I finally did drag myself out of bed the house was still immaculate but incredible empty. Over breakfast I realized that silence is a sound, and it was very loud. The rest of the day went better. We did some experimental drone flying at work which was quite a thrill and after work I had a bite and a drink at Legends with Marie, a new friend from work (who took pity on me complaining about going home to an empty house, bless her). Had carrot sticks for dinner and went to bed early.

Day Three

Getting used to being on my own. Still struggling a bit to get out of bed but I’m already developing my own morning routines. At work I named our new Inspire 1 drone “TK-471.” I will be impressed with anyone who knows why. Skyped with Rich and Ozzie at lunchtime and they seem to be enjoying themselves. As expected, I got a quick hello from Ozzie and then he was off playing with his cousins. Most of the time I am fairly pleased with myself to have such an independent boy with no attachment to his mother’s apron strings but at times I long to hear to words “I want my mummy.”

Day Nine

Oops, haven’t been very good at keeping this log. Let’s see, day five I went out on the town and had a bit too much fun. Day six was occupied by being hung over and swearing I would never drink again. Day seven I had my first shoot with the drone and managed to get some decent footage despite numerous technical glitches. At one point the drone just decided to take off, and went so far we couldn’t see it anymore and at a another point it decided to land just as we were about to get our shot. TK-471 is a bit of a diva, to be honest. Or maybe it has passed to the dark side of the force. Thankfully my co-worker Elijah a) arrived on time, which is actually quite impressive and b) remained calm in the face of adversity. On day eight the main event was my frozen Spicy Thai Chicken Dinner which did not resemble the photo on the package whatsoever but tasted, I suspect, much like the cardboard the photo was printed on. Today I had a photo shoot at the Wheelhouse which brought back memories of my photographer days. It was actually quite a novelty to be totally confident in my work for a change, photography is pretty second nature for me after all these years. My effort in creating dinners has degraded from cooking a frozen meal, to snacking on cucumber, carrot sticks, hard boiled eggs and avocado. Those do still involve some effort peeling and slicing, so I'm anticipating a diet of nuts and apples next. Cooking for one is just no fun. Of course, also still missing Richard and Oscar like crazy and suffering from Oscar hug withdrawal. Also, I'm fairly certain there's a ghost in the house since my pepper has fallen over by itself twice, once while I was home.

I promise to endeavour to log tomorrow. In my mind I have an avid fan who eagerly checks this blog for updates every day and since I do not want to disappoint my imaginary friend, I will write about my life alone, no matter how mundane. :)

Oscar and Doggie sleeping

I have to confess, our chosen names for Oscar's stuffed animals have not been very original. There's Cat, Mouse, Cheetah, Bunny, Blanket Bunny, Owl and Doggie. I first saw Doggie lying in a pile of identical doggies in a bin at Ikea. I was struck by it's similarity with our golden retriever, Maggie (we are slightly better at naming live animals than stuffed ones). Doggie was the first gift I bought our unborn son and Oscar has slept with Doggie almost every night since he was born. Doggie has worn many hats including substitute pillow, road trip companion, chaser of nightmares, puppet, protector and creator of laughs. In the process, a mass-produced toy from a big box store has been transformed into a beloved provider of comfort.

A beautiful day in Whitehorse

The bonus of above freezing weather in winter here in Whitehorse is the great weather for hiking. The downside is soft snow as we discover after getting stuck on Grey Mountain Road. However, a second bonus of the nice weather is that there are plenty of people out enjoying the day who are happy to help push your vehicle back onto the road.

With the days getting longer, the weather getting fairer and the routine of work and play becoming more familiar, our family is quite possibly the happiest we've ever been. Last night I stood on on my deck under the stars while the Northern Lights rippled across the sky and I had the strong feeling that everything was how it should be.

Happiness is an odd thing. It is not necessarily achieved. You can work and search and strive for happiness while it eludes you, but when you find it, it's almost a surprise; as if it happened in the moment you forgot to look for it.

Walking in the sunshine yesterday, surrounded by the particular quiet you only get in a still, snow-laden world, I felt a peaceful kind of happy. Rich and I were meandering while Oscar and Maggie played in the snow. Around us were quiet massive views and cold clean air. Rich looked at me, smiling, and declared, "Right now, I am happy." And so was I.

The Office

In November I started my very first Monday to Friday, 9-5 job. I pictured it being a bit like the show “The Office,” full of practical jokes, shenanigans and humour with the odd touching moment thrown in. Work would just be the background to our fake-documentary-worthy lives.

Instead, my work day mostly consists of doing actual work.

I would never dream of putting my workmate’s stapler in jello. My boss doesn’t play guitar and pathetically but at the same time endearingly try to be liked. And there is no psychotic but likeable beet farmer showing off his combat skills. I am by far the craziest person in my office but I spend most of my day keeping my head down while simultaneously (and often unsuccessfully) trying to keeping a lid on my crazy.

I do work in an office at a desk, but that’s where the similarities end. My day is filled with designing, proofing, editing and corresponding, all to a cacophony of mouse clicking and keyboard clacking and the crescendo of the email whoosh.

If someone did a documentary of my life right now I’m pretty sure it would be the world’s most boring television programming. The excitement of my day is the clicking in my head of when and idea snapping into place, the moment when the idea becomes a design on screen and the frequent instances when I learn something new about design or the programs that make it possible. My human interaction is pretty much limited brief exchanges of entertaining conversation with my 18-year-old office mate during the odd time he looks up from computer programming about at a rate of about 300 WPM, hours at a time. It’s fun but its fairly drama-free and it’s not great television.

For my daily dose of drama, I sweep through local shops on my half hour lunch break. Today, at the dollar store, there was a kerfuffle between two store clerks about a phone call from a customer about a bald cap, but the clerk who was waiting for the bald cap call was blowing up balloons when the call came in and the clerk who answered thought it was the bald cap customer, but it was a customer about another cap and thing got very tense and confusing. It was great.

I just read that last paragraph, and I realize it’s one of those situations where you had to be there while at the same time being fairly desperate for entertainment. I was going to write about the Shoppers Drug Mart lottery line story too, but I think if you’ve made it this far I’ll have mercy and spare you.

In conclusion, the moral of this story is that life is not like television, also life is what you make it, a dollar store is an intense, stressful work environment and last but not least, creating something, anything, makes the world a more interesting place, so do it!

Upper Riverdale Trail

Whitehorse Airport

The Erik Nielsen Whitehorse International Airport as seen from the Upper Riverdale Trail. Photo by Christa Galloway. — The Erik Nielsen Whitehorse International Airport as seen from the Upper Riverdale Trail. *Photo by Christa Galloway.*

If you are flying to Whitehorse, this is where you'll probably be landing. It's also where I used to work. I can even spot the orange tail of an Air North plane at the hangar.

Richard is officially a certified teacher in Canada!!!

Richard Michael Galloway is officially certified to teach in Canada.

It's been a long road, but today Rich finally received his interim professional certificate. He's made a lot of sacrifices and put in quite a bit of work, all for this tiny piece of paper which will open many doors. I'm very proud of him, he's earned it!