The House & other Arctic musings

My daughter's eyes.

Yesterday afternoon I took the kids to school. Usually, when we arrive I say the same thing I always do to Travis "Have fun, learn lots" and he bolts for his entrance. Hilary, because she is in pre-school only goes in the afternoon, and only every second day.

I carry Hilary to the closest entrance. Its not that she can't, or won't, walk on her own, its for a practical reason. I usually run late, and carrying her I can easily strip off her boots before setting her down. Its quicker and we get on our way more expediently.

But, I enjoy having her in my arms, I can't deny. Today as we arrived, Travis was already half way down the length of the school when I turned and look back, Hilary holding on tight. The entire horizon was tinged in pink, deepening to mauve and blue. "Look at the sky" I told her.

Hilary looked up and said "Oh, its pink" and then "There's purple!" "The colours change." She then turned back to me, looking into my eyes and exclaimed "Dad, we have the prettiest skies here."  I looked back at the southern horizon, ringed with this amazing gradient of light and colour, not missing the sun at all, and answered "We do indeed little girl, we do indeed."

As we turned and walked into the school I thought about my daughter's eyes, thankful that they see the world much the same way that I do. Grateful that I have two little naturalists, who marvel in our world, for children.

My pirate is such a joker

I hope to have a longer post about Hallow'een up soon, but in the mean time I give you photos of my children.  Both Travis and Hilary had costumes that they wore at their school parties, but it was a cold, wintery night here last night and we opted for just made up faces and warm outdoor clothing for their trick or treating.

No photo of Hilary's face paint apparently exists...

Blowin' in the wind

A couple of days ago, Hilary and I took advantage of the golden weather for a bit of a drive and some exploring. At Uluksan she quickly locked into a large patch of Dandelions in seed. The huge HUGE iceberg drifting down Adam's sound, coupled with Hilary and Dandelion seeds made an unbeatable photo op. I swear I only took about thirty of them.

Pre-school

School for Travis started on the 17th, but last Friday saw the very first day of preschool for Hilary. There is always some trepidation in events like this.  Hilary spends a lot of time with me, and I was worried that when the time came for me to leave her at the classroom she'd start screaming.

It was needless worry. Hilary loves school. No make that LOVES school. When I told her I was leaving she could have cared less. "Yeah yeah dad, whatever.  Go, you're standing in my light." The down side to this is when she is not a school I get a constant barrage of "When are you taking me to school, Dad?" "I want to go to school!!".  So far the concept that she doesn't go everyday and then for only afternoons hasn't sunk in.

But that is a good thing.  Her brother  greatly enjoys school and I hope that they both carry this enthusiasm right through to adult hood. And beyond.

Losing the battle

And once again dad loses the battle in that epic struggle of trying to get Hilary to eat her supper.

Lion's Teeth

I remember being a little startled when I first saw a Dandelion up here. There isn't, after all, a lawn to speak of within hundreds of kilometres of here.

I was even more surprised to learn that the Dandelion species that are  up here probably are not one of the common introduced species seen in the south, but native species. Uluksan in the fall is one of the best places to find them, which is exactly where we found many this past weekend.

(And while unrelated to the rest of this post I couldn't resist this clump of Prickly Saxifrage and its patterns and colours).

Of course where there are Dandelions and children together two things are required: picking some for mom, and blowing Dandelion seeds everywhere.

My children, last night

You'll have to indulge me a moment as I post some photos of Hilary and Travis. The Hilary photos are from Uluksan Point, Travis' are from Victor Bay.

Picking flowers.

Nothing says "Arctic" like a child in an amautiq, picking Arctic Poppies, with an iceberg in the background. Inuksuit be damned.

She had, moments before, just found out that flies can occasionally be found in poppy blossoms. Loud scream, followed by poppies scattered everywhere, followed by tears, followed by dad carefully picking up the flowers and ensuring no more flies resided therein. A smile from that point on was impossible.

What father's heart wouldn't be warmed by the sight of his son running out to greet him with a huge smile.

Outdoors and on a bike, if it wasn't for being forced to have his picture taken by his father there would be a huge smile on his face.

Some tents at Victor Bay.

Poppies overlooking an old qarmaq and Adam's Sound.

And the stars look very different today

That awesome photo was taken by the talented Kennie of Tales from the Arctic, and if you knew how briefly the rocket would be in that frame, once the motor ignites, you would be even more impressed. The rest of the photos illustrating this post are hers, Leah Leah and her brother Terry shot the video.

Shortly after noon, Leah, Travis, Hilary and I, along with two of Leah's sisters, her brother, and two nephews, headed out onto frozen Arctic Bay to launch the rocket. Shortly after we got set up Kendra arrived, camera in hand to record the event for posterity.

The first launch went staggeringly well (and I'm not sure but this may well be the most northernly launch of a model rocket) which made me feel a whole lot better. I had visions of a sputter and then nothing else. Travis didn't want to press the button to launch the rocket, (no I swear, its on tape) and although Hilary volunteered I did the honours.

The rocket is startlingly loud, when it takes off. In fact it did just that, frightened the video person so footage ends right after the launch. It is hard to convey just how quickly the rocket gains altitude, and just how high it climbs, roughly to the height of that mountain pictured behind the rocket a couple of posts ago.

My other big fear, that the parachute wouldn't eject and we'd watch helplessly as the rocket sped into the ground, also didn't materialize, and the rocket spun lazily back to earth. The recovery team ran out to get it before the parachute settled to the ground. It didn't take too much convincing to get a second motor ready and launch it again.

While the second launch appeared to go well it didn't quite. I noticed that it launched at more of an angle than the first rocket. I didn't discover until later, at home, the reason why. During the launch one of the two tabs that secure the rocket to the launch rod came off. This effectively kills tomorrows planned launch, delaying it until we can get another part for it. The other thing that happened is that apparently decals do not perform well at sub zero temperatures. While watching for the parachute to deploy I noticed something orange drifting down. It turned out to be one of the decals from a fin. 

All in all it was a very fun afternoon.  More photos and the video below the fold.

7... 6... 5...

Yesterday my our rocket motors from Sigma Rockets arrived (after traveling several times back and forth across the country before we gave up on Purolater). This weekend, provided the weather co-operates, will be our first launch of the rocket that Travis and I made back in January.  Even with one of the two lower power rocket motors we should be able to send the rocket almost to the height of King George, a little shy of 1800' (550 metres).  I Travis can hardly contain myself himself.

Its my party and I'll cry if I want to

It was my girl's birthday a little more than a week ago. Ever since she first arrived in our life I've marked this milestone on the blog, so I see no reason to stop yet.  Her birthday seemed to sneak up on us this year, not that we weren't aware of it looming on the horizon, just we seemed so unprepared for it.

Because we had clients, and didn't want to disturb them with the games in the evening, the festivities were held down at Leah's mom's place. As I still hadn't finished the cake, I was late. I arrived with a princess cake (My daughter is such a girly girl now, everything is pink and princesses and dolls. How does this happen? Thankfully she still watches football with me), and the place was packed.

The adults swarmed around a set of dice and the current game, the kids swarmed around me (I was after all carrying a cake). The hour was getting late, as we had waited until after the evening church service to accommodate everyone, and Hilary was getting quite tired. So tired that as soon as the chorus of "Happy Birthday" started she burst into tears. There is something especially poignant about a three year old with tears streaming down her face as she sits in front of a cake with a freaky eyed Cinderella (I can't do eyes) as dozens of people sing "Happy Birthday".

Fortunately the sugar soon kicked in and she was once again her happy, boyant self. I was soon banished home to await the arrival of the participants of a scavanger hunt, but soon she was back home with me, playing with one of the countless princess toys she received.

I want to resist my usual bemoaning of the quick passage of time, but really how can three years pass so quickly? As she sits on my knee, patting my shoulder and watching me type, I can't help but fear how fast these days will be gone. How quickly she'll move away from Cinderella cakes, and tears on her birthday.