Man's best friend

In the border lands of the southern extent of the White Spruce, a man is liable to become lonely from time to time. The companionship of the trembling aspen and a six string guitar only takes you so far when the sun begins to elude the heavens for the majority of the day. It is this feeling of alienation that temps to drive a man within the reaches of neon lights, tumble down watering holes on weekdays and late night coffee shops in search of expression. Often however as soon as the expression is found, a wanting grows deep inside for what is held dear. The poplar trees call to the place where human intimacy hides but the romanticism of the wild flourishes.

So where does one begin to bridge the gap between these two worlds? Does he search the desolate streets night after night, hoping to find a like minded acquaintance? Or does he delve into himself for four cold months when joy is blanketed by snow? Does he simply push forth, waiting for the day when the blossom's of the Saskatoon appear. No this is not the answer. contemplation of the weariness of winter is not the answer. A man must find his place amongst the frosted twigs and occupy himself with the activities not found in summer. Ice skating, hard water fishing, snow shoeing. Winter does have its advantages. The cold is nature's deep freeze and the snow is the night light of the winter's dark. But these joys are not easily shared alone. They are much better with a friend. A friend that accepts you unconditionally. A friend that does not complain about the cold, or that time you hit on his girlfriend. A friend that is part canine part mystic. A mistreated friend rescued from the harsh realities of La Ronge.

I have adopted a four month old border collie cross from a rescue mission in La Ronge. my very own runty Rez dog. I travelled to Saskatoon this weekend intent on finding some fun and ended up finding my new best friend. My friend Jenna's mother runs a rescue mission in the North to help out all the little pups from the reservations and she had a little guy with her on her visit to the Paris of the Prairies. And I fell in love!

I have deemed him Le Petit, his name sake, the rifle shouldered by Gabriel Dumont that nearly defeated a fledgling Canadian military in the North-West Rebellion of 1885. I decided it was a suiting name as he is from La Ronge and will be growing up in St. Louis, both places being historically French..... And the name is hard as fuck...just like him;)

Who needs a hangover?

I don't. I think i far prefer waking up on a fresh Sunday morning in the middle of a forest cooking with a stick, a deer steak that was running around chasing does five days previous. I spent the rest of the day driving around the national park and following wolf tracks on a hike, hoping for a glimpse of the intelligent beast.


The sign is just something I thought was hilarious. I have never seen a sign on a river before. This was taken on the Sturgeon River which forms the South Western border of Prince Albert National Park.

Paying the rent

Who needs money?

Well I certainly do.

But sometimes it is nice to skip that aspect of society. I have payed the rent, hopefully for the entire year, with three hard days of manual labour. Having a trade is priceless sometimes. In exchange for the rent, I have re roofed my landlords house. tearing off two layers of the worst shingles I have ever experienced, and I certainly have not shingled by shop light at 8 o clock on a Sunday evening before. But enough complaining, it is done!

Well well well

well well well. I suppose I have neglected posting for a while. I also suppose that it is hunting season. I might just suppose that these two incidences are related. Anyhow, last week I went over to neighbour Dave's to do some bullshitting and ask him who the landowners in the area are so I could gain permission for hunting. Dave asked me what I was using for a firearm. I let him know that I was rifle less and would be shooting a shotgun. He then offered me one of his 270 and told me to go out with one of his pals the next morning. He would have shipped me out himself but he just got out of a debilitating hernia surgery.... Ouch. So up before first light and into the stand I went and harvested a young buck. Hung before 10AM. Two days later I borrowed the rifle again and went out at dusk and harvested a second deer(we are in a two zone deer). Then Dave let me borrow his meat shop. Dave is the ultimate man's man and four days after a hernia operation I still could not keep him away from helping me. The kind of man that is pained by even the thought of sitting down when there is work to do.

Man it pays to be friends with the neighbour. I owe them dearly. One long long day(sun up to sun down)and my winter meat is all nicely cut and packaged.......... right in time for the return of my ulcerative colitis. After being in remission for probably four years this is extremely dissapointing. Now as much as I want to gorge myself with red meat I have a feeling that it is not the best thing to do at this point in my life. So friends alike... let me know what is your favorite cut of meat and I just might have to swing it your way. As much as this pains me... it is going to pain me either way.