The last time I wrote about anything earth shaking concerned the long, drawn-out affair with the pandemic, the woes and lows of living faceless and remote, the cough our greatest fear, the needle our only salvation.
And then someone decided to invade another country in the name of history. Well, in the name of fake news, the modern-day propaganda machine spitting out every kind of version of a twisted war, live via feeds on cellphones and social media. Now, one of the world’s largest countries is attacking its smaller neighbour, once tightly nestled in the realm of the USSR.
Yes, the social-media-powered war against an invading country is occupying everyone’s feeds and splattered across the news networks, a real war where people’s lives are lost in real time. I try not to watch too much but it seems that those high-tech weapons can’t stand up against people’s resilience.
As we complain that fuel now costs more per litre than beer, it just goes to show that how one self-deluded dictator with so much power at hand can change the way we live. Today, our bragging rights to having the most expensive fuel in our territory is now being challenged by southern gas stations.
I sit back and wonder how much more we can take when it comes the world’s madness at our virtual doorstep. I like to slink off to my little corner and wish that watching movies was okay again. That’s because, in today’s world of short clips on Facebook, we see only the choice scenes and the rest of the story is shortened to the chases and fights or anything that involves action and no talking.
That brings us to this week of action in Eeyou Istchee. Yes, it’s the end of the fiscal year and once again spending the leftover budget is needed or else there’ll be fewer funds for you next year. In general, as not everyone has budget surpluses, it feels better to have funds to spend than none at all.
March is an extreme month of activity, with weather warm enough to stand outside and watch snowmobile racers zoom by and the sun rise higher in the sky. Is that the smell of spring in the air, or is it just another snowstorm on the way? Who can tell these days? Most people don’t care anymore, as long as the next breath of fresh air doesn’t need to be filtered through some worn-out mask.
Yes, winter is on its way out, and I’m seriously thinking of getting a snowblower just because I already have every snow removal hand tool there is, so making noise and showing off to the neighbours might be my mantra next winter. I’m thinking of making an outdoor rink, that is, if the water doesn’t freeze in the hose before it reaches the goalie area. Street hockey anyone?
Speaking of hockey, our own Pakesso sang for all of us to the whole country, well at least the national anthem to Habs fans and haters – that’s something that doesn’t happen every Saturday night.
Other action-worthy mentions are the numerous camp sites offering a resort and healthy lifestyle based on our culture, which is good to see. Nothing like a term in the bush to get things unrattled in our cluttered internet-fed brains. As for summer, I’m looking forward to heat waves we can complain about, wishing winter was back already.
Signing off from the thawing North…