It’s been nearly two years since I ventured out by vehicle and I’m expecting a post-apocalyptic scene. The tourism industry was hit hard as hotels and restaurants reopen and ready themselves for the new passport that will enable people to roam freely. The lack of workers is evident, but not the effort of those who are there working for us in the hotel industry. I get to skip the dishes literally.
I’ve had the privilege to travel a lot during my short but busy lifetime. I visited many countries and yet, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like Inuit Nunangat, Inuit country. Some of the most beautiful landscapes I had the chance to see are in our neighbours’ territory.
It seems that this summer has been a bit of a disappointment with no real moderate temperatures to sooth the soul, instead it has fluctuated between scorching hot weather or foggy, rainy days. You can’t decide what to wear – shorts or jeans, t-shirts or jackets, flipflops or gumboots – the weather had us beat every time.
Canada’s continuing embarrassment over the discovery of unmarked graves tied to residential schools continues.
There’s no place like home. We’ve heard that phrase all our lives, so often we usually don’t even pause to consider its importance.
I sat out admiring the lake on a warm summer afternoon the other day. Although it was only four o’clock and the sun would not set for another five hours, I was in full view of a reddish orange globe hanging in the sky.
Bears can be like ornery big brothers at times. In the North at this time of year we often see our bros in action, usually at the local dump. They tend to congregate there to gorge on the leftovers from our feasts.
I will reach my third year of sobriety at the end of July. I still believe it was the best decision I’ve ever made to honour and respect myself.
I’m driving my granddaughter around the beach for no other reason than just to get out of the house and enjoy life. We stop and the little one takes off towards the shore, then turns around in joy squealing to get away from the small waves that gently wash up onto the sands where the Great Whale River meets Hudson Bay.
The fallout from the recent discoveries of unmarked graves of children who attended residential schools in Canada has far-reaching consequences and a variety of responses.
