Breakfast at the 98

It's 11AM, I'm working away trying to figure out how to piece together the puzzle that is the Klondike Rib & Salmon Restaurant when I get a text from our fearless leader Dona, rife with exclamation marks, ordering me to 'get my ass down to the "98". Okay, where the hell's the "98"? Apparently I can see it from my window and to just follow the line of ne'er do wells. Being the ever obedient employee, I follow orders and end up at the "98". The "98" is one of the original Yukon bars and a place where you'll find every four legged creature that once lived north of the 49th parallel skinned and nailed to the wall. The rest of the denizens ( some furry, some not so much ), are milling about the place being soothed by amber filled glasses of something they refer to as beer. This was Yukon culture and I was enthralled. Dona had just won the city lottery for a food truck spot and we were celebrating. I feigned drinking a beer, but the gals form the restaurant were in fine form. I feel very fortunate to be working with these salt of the earth, balls to the walls ( sorry, it was only fitting ), gals. Here's to you ladies ( I'm hoisting a cheeky Malbec, 'cause the beer sucks ).

What Did I Sign Up For??!!

It snows, it melts, it snows, it melts...even the locals are expressing their angst. I was walking by a chapel the other day whilst Pastor Bob was cheerfully shovelling snow from his front steps. He waved and smiled to a passerby greeting her with a familiar 'Hello Mary-Beth, what do you think of this weather were having?'. She spun on her heels and spewed, 'I'll tell ya what I think of this weather! I'm f$#%king sick of it!' Pastor Bob, clutching his shovel to his chest ( probably for protection ), smiled his beatific smile, and nodded and waved. It was just like being on the Andy Griffith show!

These Boots Are Made For Walking...in the Snow!!!!

 I've never received so much flack over a pair of boots! I'm talking about my fancy white "snow boots", which are water proof, snow proof, slush proof, dog shit proof, and yet, up here, I'm constantly being chastised over my choice of foot wear. Don't people realize that you can be protected and fashionable...just look at all the styles of condoms out there! They served me well last Friday night as I wandered the streets of Whitehorse wondering where all the cool people were. I was waiting at a light when a slight young fellow came up beside me clad in only a black mock turtle neck ( universal cool people attire ). I asked if he wasn't freezing, at which he looked down at my fabulous white boots and said "you aren't from here, are you?" When I shook my head, he pointed to the ol' Firehall up ahead and said that there's a gay film festival showing tonight and I'd probably enjoy it. Well he was right! There was a bar, some nibbles ( not bad ), I watched some very funny video footage of coming out stories, a very talented musician and a hilarious Indy film called 'Gaby...I'm sure you can guess the premise. Not bad for a gal from the city!

The Great White North

While you are dining al fresco at your favourite bistros and wiping down your patio furniture in anticipation of morning coffee on the porch, I am not. The up-side is, I get to wear this fabulous red wool coat which has been sitting in my closet for 2 years...the down-side is, I went on the best date EVER the night before I left for Whitehorse - oy vey!
I'm told once the ice starts to crack summer is not far behind. I'm standing in the middle of a lake.. I'll keep you posted.

The Last Bamboo Post...for now

Well, I've done it again, living my life in extremes seems to just come naturally to me. I've gone from the 18th parallel to north of 60...Whitehorse to be exact. The next 5 month I'm working as Head Chef of the Klondike Rib and Salmon BBQ and I'll be using this blog site to report back to anyone who might be interested in knowing what life can be like in the Yukon...it's all new to me. Stayed tuned.

Here is a pic of the fabulous job Daphne did of painting our name on the front ( road access ) of the casa. We are still working on getting more bamboo plants but unfortunately they don't thrive in salt air - oops! Oh well, we still like the name.

Once 'Once', now 'Beyonce'

Our lovely rescue pooch is thriving. No more cancer and no more puppies thanks to the tireless, dedicated folk at the Zihuatanejo Humane Society. Her name was Once ( eleven in Spanish, long story, short blog ), but we've been calling her Beyonce ever since my brother Peter's visit at Christmas. When I introduced the dog to him as Once, he looked at her and said, "I'll never remember that, your name is now Beyonce, do you like that name?" With that she rolled over on her back, stretched herself out exposing her girly-doggy-parts, ( I have no idea where she learned that ) and that was it. Actually, the name suits her. She's black, has a strong throaty voice, and with a life-style of leisure and abundance, has become quite full figured.

Where's Paco!?

We love the pool...we don't love cleaning the pool. My dreams of 'Paco the pool-boy' leisurely cleaning the pool clad in a leopard thong are just that, a dream, oh Paco ( sigh ). We did eventually figure it out and decided to make the time in our busy day to do it ourselves. Here's a great shot of mommy cleaning the pool and looking quite stylish in the process...don't you think?