Miguel and I went fishing, the other night, and I fell in. We were down by the creek, where it joins the ocean. The tide was high, and there's a little rocky island that is only separated from the shore by a few feet of water. I wanted to go out on it so I could cast into the deep water, so I asked Miguel to give me a piggy-back. We were trying to carry fishing rods, as well, so I was kind of precariously perched, and we were giggling about me falling in... Well, of course, I did. Luckily we were almost there, and I only got wet to the ankles, but the water is... well... Arctic. But we stayed fishing, until I couldn't feel my wet/cold feet any more. Still no luck, I think the fish are pretty safe from us.

I'm still living in the awe and "I'm really here" state. and meanwhile, fuzzy husky pups come to visit, muskox can be seen from our upstairs windows, and when the sun goes down the sky turns salmon-coloured. standing on the banks of the creek, or the bridge, and watching the locals pull out char after char, lining the fish up on the bank until they're ready to clean them. riding around in the cutting wind on the ATV. catalogues come in the mail offering wolverine fur, moose leather, boots that are good to minus 50. in the evening when we walk the dogs and the sun is low, all the fluffy white tundra plants, rust and blood coloured lichen and half-buried rocks for miles and miles.

We are slowly equipping ourselves, here. Garage sales, a constant due to transient workers, have yielded some good stuff; a pressure cooker, a computer monitor to replace one we left in storage, snow hoods, some kitchen bits and pieces. A co-worker of Miguel's is going to sell us a tv and a computer desk. We bought some real dishes, and we've started to stock the cupboards. The house itself is furnished, couch and armchair, coffee tables and lamps, dining table and chairs, beds and dressers, and the furniture is much nicer than the stuff I sent away to Goodwill. The kids think it's funny, though, I'm encouraging them to eat at the table rather than on the living room furniture. It's ok, though, as they can still see the little tv we're currently using.

Jane says I sound very domestic, when I wrote and told her I'd made bread and pea soup. It's been hard to leave my friends, but the people I wanted to keep in contact with have all been emailing and/or calling so I think it'll be ok.

Well. I seem to have a job. Last week I went down, following a suggestion from Miguel's supervisor, to see the director of the community wellness centre, but she was out of town. Yesterday I went back again, in the morning, and she was in court. So I left my resume. About four o'clock I went back, expecting to be told she wasn't there, but she was and she said she had read my resume and showed it to the man who was the facilitator for their treatment programs, and he wanted me to go back and talk to him. She told me what they were doing, and it sounds very similar to AVP; community building, communications, childhood issues, drugs/alcohol, family violence, etc.

This morning I called down and got the man in question, and he asked me to come talk to him at 11. Again I went without any expectations, and was very surprised when in the first five minutes he basically offered me a job being a co-facilitator. The upshot of the discussion, about an hour's worth, is that he wants me to come and be there for the next treatment program, a two-week women's program, which we will start setting up on September 9th, to start on the 12th...

So, very cool.

Also, my little brother is engaged. I told him they can't get married quite yet, because I don't have enough money to get out to Australia for the wedding. (yeah, it's all about me. got a problem with that?)

This afternoon, I watched General Hospital (guilty pleasures) and had a nap. I find it very difficult to sell myself in the way needed to get through a job interview. Draining. But now I can enjoy my time off until the 9th, without thinking I need to get out there and find work.

And here, for your amusement, the song currently playing in my head, I heard it on the radio on the weekend and it seems apropos:

Got my suitcase
Got my dog
I'm packing up my life so far
Got my pictures
Got some cash
I'm getting out of here at last

Got my hands on the wheel
Got my foot on the pedal
Gonna drive 'til I drop
'Til the tires turn to metal
Gonna sleep when I'm dead
Gonna laugh like the devil
Gonna find some place where no one knows me

Gonna stop when the last drop of gas turns to vapor
Gonna ride 'til I can't even seem to remember
Who I was when I left and it don't even matter
Gonna find some place where no one knows me

Jann Arden -- Where No One Knows Me

I'm starting to get used to being here. It feels as if we are perched on the edge of a vast expanse of wilderness, and the wind blows hard because there's nothing to stop it. I don't get lost walking around anymore. I was looking at a notice in the post office this morning, when I went to check the mail, and it was addressed to "Residents" and I thought, "hey, I'm a resident. I live here." Tomorrow our house sale goes through. The phone, which was silent for the first week or so that I was here, has begun to ring again, now that the children's new friends have our phone number. A girl has been visiting Ian, who has developed an increased interest in brushing his teeth. I feel as if he is too young for this, but he's in grade seven, so I guess not.

It is cold today. We have been assessing the state of our winter clothes stock, and I've been mending the holes and tears, but we all need boots and some of us need coats. One of Ian's friends suggested we might want to make a coat for Joeby, as he's got very short fur and will be cold... Miguel let two young boys in the other day, and then went to tell Ian they were here. Joeby came to check them out, and Miguel said, as he walked away, "He's friendly." There was silence for a moment, then one of the boys said, "Hello, friendly."

I saw a weasel, yesterday, darting back and forth across the road outside the house. This morning, when I was on my way to the post office, two Arctic Swans flew over, talking to each other. I had heard that it was possible to see them. They were snow white, and bigger than I thought, but they fly very gracefully, long necks fully extended into the wind.