My roots in the Holidays

Ca vas? je suis encore en vie...
    Drinks are cheap, incredibly cheap, but my wallet is still diminishing and I'm trying to hang on to enough so I can make it to Mexico. Being back in Timmins, the holidays, friends I haven't seen in years, and all the consumed intoxication, I'm really home! How I managed to do this my entire youth and still be alive just amazes me. I'm really enjoying the vibes here though, my little cousins, Joshua and Kaisha have kept smiles on my face time and time again no matter how I feel. I love them for that.


    All the people I've confided in, the ones that share my most memorable moments growing up... they're here, remembering me. Shit even people I don't know are telling me stories I don't remember. I wish I could document it all, because I'd love to hold on to the memories that others' remember. The reminiscing is making my heart grow fonder of the place I used to call home, my growing experiences, a place I know well.

    Days until christmas and the family starts to take precedance, I've missed them dearly. I can't express how good it feels to be in pressence of the people who have raised me and helped define the character I've become. Fish fries, turkey, potatoes, turnip, let the old style home cooked meals flow. If there's one thing you do here in northern onatrio is eat plenty of food, and good food at that. The fresh pickerel and pike caught only days ago, the potatoes my grandfather has grown out at the cottage last year, most importantly is the amount of love it's all prepared with, thank you grandma. Christmas is how it used to be, a celebration of family with plenty of drinking. We plan our route with cautious drunken steps towards the house down the street filled with more relatives singing and dancing. Santa Clause being one of the youngest cousins. My great aunt surveying the room watching her kids, and grand kids like a concerned mother hen. I love the air, I love the laughter, these are the kind of memories I can't wait to share with my children... Christmas eve is always high energy and loud with family laughter. We go until 4am and that's an early night, I guess age is slowing us all down.

    Christmas day my uncle and I have the task of skinning a wolf they caught on the trap line. Now I know that some might never understand the role of a trapper in this world, that's alright, I'm not at a moment to give an explanation, and you'll all just have to bare with me on this. It's a necessity in this world! Trapping is a part of my heritage, it's also something I unfortunately missed out on due to circumstances. My grandfather was the trapper and he stopped doing it years ago. Regardless of me being within that lifestyle my whole life, I never had the opportunity to walk a real trapline, or skin an animal. Now my uncle has been trapping for his kids, and continuing the tradition. I have to mention there's no money in trapping these days, and you really have to love doing it to really do it. So with the opportunity at hand I had to go. Back to skinning the wolf... I have much more appreciation for the work involved. It took us over 3 hours to finish skinning the wolf, and that's just removing the fur, not even washing and preparing it for sale. I really worked on that one, it really isn't that easy. From lifting the large animal, I think he weighed about 80lbs and that's a small one they tell me, to meticulously cutting away every inch of fur without putting holes in it. I have only one expression for it. Wow! I did though, regardless of how hard it was physically and mentally. I said a prayer of thanks for its life, the experience, and knowledge it gave me to move on in this world.

    
    The gifts have all been given, the handshakes and kisses start to decline, now we prepare for new years. With more extended family on their way from southern ontario, we leave for the cottage. Five days in the woods, five days to relax and ice fish or snowmobile around the beautiful frozen landscape. We have six adults and five kids, plenty of food, and more warm clothes then a sherpa. The fur hats, ski pants, long johns, snow boots, and anything wool is a must, and if you don't know what some of those are then you haven't really been in the cold... Again the food is plenty, and we devour feast after feast, baked hams, turkey, pizza, all cooked on the wood ovens....MmmMmmm. Pulling the children on the tube behind the snowmobile, shoveling a skating rink right on the lake, we play and play. My first walks of the day across the lake with my coffee and irish cream in hand, snow up to my ankles, and endless beautiful landscapes within every blink 360 degrees.

    We catch fish with pride, we drive the ATV and snowmobiles all around the area, and we take in every breath with bliss. Every face has a smile on it from morning until night. I remember doing all of this when I was growing up, but something is different now and I have to make mention of it... maybe the introduction of the dvd players, and playstations wasn't such a great idea? I'm a really open minded person and I did watch a film and played some games, but I can't fight this feeling of dissappointment when I see the kids having a great time just rolling around in the snow or wrestling on the bed. Then without a moments notice, they are put to the electronic babysitters. For the first time I think I read some minds... they really didn't want to play with these toys, they wanted child interaction and I think we all should have let them choose their own enjoyment. This is the cottage right? Where anything goes, and we are free in the elements. Nonetheless I'm not the governing powers here so I bite my tongue and play along.

    Out of the blue, we receive some company from family and other extended family members, and now the party is just starting. We drink and become merry, very very merry. The old french folk music starts playing, the fire outside is glowing as red as it could, and we sing and dance. I have to thank my cousin Marcel for the energy to carry a whole group of us into the dancing and singing "les chanson a repondre". I really needed to have that moment before traveling, to spend time with my own roots. the drunken stumbles are actually some french dance steps, the hollering, and yelling, these are the sounds of pure enjoyment of life. As the spoons are heard in the background and "la bolduc" treats us with her "turlutages" I'm immersed into my past and loving every fucking second of it. Even sporting the traditional fur hat, which I think looks pretty damn good on me... I'm bringing fur back!

    Well it's time to move on... Onward as has been dubbed the saying by Dani, I'm on my way south to Toronto for a couple a weeks of work and play. the trip should be eventful.
Peace,
-ken