Hoorah for Ra!!!

I had become a grumpy, grumpy dude.

The constant drizzle and the fog were starting to break me. The clouds hung at the top of the hills all week, the wind blew in off the bay and it was cold and grey and miserable, and I had taken on all these characteristics. Not helping at all was the fact that I was alone in the office and when I got home, and Oil Can was my only commisserator. And he was more cantankerous than I.

To summarize, I'd become a broken man by Friday night.

Anyhow, I awoke Saturday and there in the sky was the gift of sun and blue.
I can't really say if I've ever gone six days without sun. Maybe on a trip through Britain, but really those days were so filled with new sights (and booze) that I hardly took notice.

I got up early -- soaked it the hell up -- went to get a coffee and bumped into a girl I met a week ago. We sat and chatted for an hour about accordians and writing and Iqaluit and I credit her with blowing away any of the lingering fog still clouding me up and I rambled off to work feeling re-energized.

I really will never again under estimate the power of the Sun. It had such an effect on me yesterday. I'd kiss the sun if doing so wouldn't burn the shit out of my face.

Me and Heidi-Ann -- back in town from Pangnirtung and Qikiqtarjuaq -- went out and explored the icebergs that had been blown into the bay and stranded in low tide.

Snowball fight, anyone?

Heidi-Ann tries some gigantic ancient glacial sno-cone

Heidi-Ann defeats the Vertigo foe

Carnivorous Ice Whale devours Iqaluit!!!

I chucked a rock at this thing and it bounced straight down

Icebergorrhoids; or an anus singed by purity

Maybe as part of that whole growing old thing I wrote about the other day, I should have put that I wouldn't START becoming one of those people that spends an inordinate amount of time talking about the weather. It's sad watching myself turn into that lowest common denominator conversationalist.

With that out of the way, it was +4 today. It's July 28.

Kind of chilly. Twas so bad that I had to coax my testicles out of my body today with motivational slogans.

Oil Can is not impressed. He won't even talk to me. 

He's sitting under a tent in front of the open oven, cranked to 450, with his hand out the flap, giving me the finger.

I tried to take advantage of the day by visiting the ice flow that's blown into the bay off the ocean.

It was really neat actually, exploring the beach, with all this washed up sea ice. I found a large chunk stranded on land and got up nice and close. 

I'd say it was about 15 feet long, 12 feet wide. It was dripping like mad underneath, but I bet if I'd sat there and watched it for a day, it wouldn't have  changed size in any noticeable way.

I tried to get a picture of myself on the giant ice cube, but because my camera is crap, I couldn't zoom far enough away to make it look like I was on the thing. Needless to say, Oil Can did not accompany me on the adventure to snap the shot.

Oh... he just threw a chair at me. Thing had some zip on it...

"Dayum, Oil Can. You can still bring the heat!"

Ooops, didn't like my choice of words. He just chucked a spatula at me. "... and Joe Momma...", I think he said, as he slid back into his tent.

Oh, that Oil Can... what a character.

So yeah, I was sitting on the freezing block of ice while I was trying to figure my camera out. After a few frustrating minutes, I hopped off, and now I'm convinced I gave myself hemorrhoids.

But that raised an interesting question:

How many people can say they got hemorrhoids from sitting on an iceberg before? 

A privileged few, I bet.

Herbiberous