The Year in Review

I have spent the day looking at a year’s worth of blog postings… our Year in Review for 2008. The one thing I am struck by is the dramatic contrast between the first and second half of the year. It is like “A Tale of Two Lives,” if you will allow me that play on words and titles. But this is no fiction… this is the unexpected drama that real life can bring to our carefully made plans.

January 2008 (Location: Kitwanga, B.C.)

January brought us a new cat. We named him Yu-Ling after an ancient Chinese poet. Yu-Ling enjoyed lying on the windowsill to watch the red squirrel “Dancer.” Much to our dismay, Dancer disappeared one day in January, and never returned. As Bob baked sourdough bread in the Pioneer Maid woodstove, we watched a grey wolf track a moose across the meadow. Temperatures plummeted and we became snowbound for weeks.

Excerpt from One Snowflake in a Blizzard

It’s easy to feel isolated on this Backroad when a heavy snowfall dumps a foot-and-a-half of snow overnight making our road impassable for several days, and an Arctic outflow sends the temperature plummeting to –11 degrees Fahrenheit (-40 with wind chill factor). We have no telephone lines, no cell phone towers, and our emergency battery/hand-crank radio receives only one station, CBC Radio One. When we turn on the radio and hear nothing but static, we know the power is off in Kitwanga, knocking even CBC off the air. So much for the emergency capabilities of our radio to keep us informed! (Morningstar)

Excerpt from Sourdough Bread

Finally my three thermometers average something like 350 F, in goes the bread. That's when we see the wolf. Not much of a sighting but lots of excitement for us. Then a moose appears, looking anxious and coming from the direction where we saw the wolf going. Lots of drama. O.K. I lost track of the bread and the oven temperature. The smell of toasting bread brought me back to an appropriate focus. A quick rescue and it was cooling on the side rack and Morningstar was making the soup. Supper turned out great. Homemade soup and slightly singed sourdough bread and much talk about wolves and moose. (Bob)

February 2008 (Kitwanga)

It had been a month since we had been to town; it was a snowbound month of Arctic outflow temperatures, heavy snow and blizzard conditions that had Bob getting up many times during the night to keep the woodstove burning. It was the month we heard wolves howling nearby and saw their tracks behind the cabin. It was also what I call the “Season of Ice.”

Excerpt from Unexpected Visitor

No one from my past would recognize this woman with a ratty terrycloth bathrobe wrapped around her, standing by the woodstove talking to a neighbor who has just arrived unannounced. Me, with my morning face unadorned, hair that strayed from an untidy braid, and a messy cabin with padded cloths tacked up at the windows to keep out the cold. This would never have happened in that other lifetime when appearances were all important. I doubt I would even have gone to the door looking like I did on that morning last week. But after the initial Oh My! and “Is it too early?” …the slight embarrassment we all felt disappeared. No need to worry about appearances. Out here it is life at the basic level… food, water, warmth, shelter. Danny, in his torn flannel shirt was here to see how we were doing and if we needed more firewood. I'm sure our friend Richard will be checking on us later. (Morningstar)

Excerpt from Let There Be Light

As Bob opened the front door yesterday morning, he called to me and said, “Come listen.” We stood on the steps and heard a wolf howl to our right; then an answering call off to our left. Back and forth. Then silence. In the fast-paced world that we live in, a minute or two doesn’t count for much. But when that minute or two holds within it the wild call of wolves, it is worth a lifetime. It is hard to explain to someone who has never heard wolves in the wild. I have mixed emotions, joy that our lives can include something that is becoming increasingly rare, and sadness that we may be the last to hear that call from the wilderness. (Morningstar)

March 2008

March brought the fifth anniversary of the Iraq War and our series of essays on candlelight vigils, protest marches, and anti-war activism. March also took us back to San Juan Island and the sale of my little wooden boat Båten. And this was the month that we lost our beloved cat Yu-Ling.

Excerpt from Yu-Ling In Memoriam

Yu-Ling died Tuesday, 11 March. We played with him that morning, by afternoon we were digging his grave. He gave no signs of illness or distress. He had been to the vet only a few days earlier. I was carrying him into the cabin when he suddenly cried out and died within moments. Both of us were with him, trying to comfort him as he lay there, but it was like trying to hold water in your cupped hands – we could feel his life slip through our fingers. At least it was quick, a heart attack I think. Yu-Ling was only 11 months old. (Bob)

April 2008 (Kitwanga)

April took us back to our cabin in British Columbia… to cutting and stacking firewood for the next winter, spotting a lynx at the edge of the meadow, and celebrating Earth Day by planting sugar snap peas in the garden.

Excerpt from Signs of Spring

Danny’s old red pickup bumped down our driveway this afternoon. The two black and white farm dogs, Lizzie and Bella trotted along side. The truck pulled a utility trailer full of freshly cut birch. The truck bed was full too. That’s another sign of spring, cutting next winter’s firewood to give it time to dry and season during the warm summer months. Danny (Stephens) stacks the white-barked birch in two rows against the outside wall of the cabin. By fall it will be ready to use in the Pioneer Maid woodstove. (Morningstar)

May 2008

Our second anniversary at the cabin… watching for bears to come out of hibernation and the wildflowers to bloom. Spring came late, delaying the planting of my vegetable garden until just a few days prior to traveling to Bellingham for the doctor’s appt. that would change our lives.

Excerpt from Life Changing Event

May 30, 2008... “I’m afraid this is going to be a life changing event for you.” I have had several life changing events… sometimes I even welcomed them. But when those words come from your physician, it is not something you want to hear. I heard them yesterday after a series of lab tests, chest X-rays, and a CAT scan. And although the diagnosis is not yet clear, it is likely that our life in northern British Columbia will no longer be possible. Tomorrow (Friday, 30 May) I am scheduled for a bronchoscopy and biopsy of my right lung. By Monday afternoon we will have the biopsy report and discuss “next steps.” (Morningstar)

June 2008 (Bellingham, Washington)

The diagnosis, Stage IV Non Small Cell lung cancer… inoperable, incurable. Needing a temporary place to live, we are gifted with Hannah’s cottage, and we welcome Misty, a “rescue cat,” into our hearts.

Excerpt from Just A New Challenge

This blog has been about creating a new life, and as one of our visitors put it, “living outside the box.” It is true that we have never put limits on our endeavors, believing that life is a gift to be lived fully. We’ve had lots of adventures in the twelve years that we have been together… first trekking in war torn Guatemala, then living aboard a sailboat for three years and homesteading on a small B.C. island, and finally our move to an off the grid log cabin in northern British Columbia. Along the way we have also dealt with unexpected health issues… Bob’s diabetes, bladder cancer and five-bypass heart surgery, plus my own back surgery. My diagnosis of lung cancer is just another chapter in that life, another challenge to undertake, and no different than any of the others. (Morningstar)

To be continued tomorrow...