Dragged ourselves out of bed for church today, but at least we made it. Keegan was so tired he asked to go home in the middle of it. I let him. What else can you do with a growing 13 year old boy that only wants to sleep, and can't get to sleep even when he wants to? He slept until 3 pm. Wowsers!
We hung around the trailer today, all doing our own thing. Keegan and I (mostly Keegan) loaded some bikes and tubs on the van roof rack. Kurt wanted us to get a head start before he got back, and with Keegan possibly leaving today, we wanted to get something done. We were waiting for some visitors and they arrived at 7 pm. Uncle Ike and Auntie 'Chele!'
We walked down to the Art Festival to walk through the gallery. Some of the larger stone carvings were on sale for $3000! Even the baby moccasins were $100. Michele said way back when, you could pick up a pair for $25. But aboriginal culture is in vogue now, so up goes the ante. We had very little time as the gallery closed at 8 pm. We walked over to the Mackenzie Hotel where Elbert and Les were eating supper. I'm glad they decided to drive the extra 2.5 hours to the end of the road. It was busy so we left, but not before taking Ike and Michele's picture with the big inukshuk out front. Back at the trailer, Michele pulled out more goodies. She had Crocs for the kids, tiaras for the four little girls, clothes, a game, and some contact solution for me. She also brought us some corn on the cob and fruit. Before we knew it, they were gone, and Keegan went with them to be Ike's go-to guy for the building project. I hope he wakes up before tomorrow.
Did I tell you the internet connection for the campground here only works in the laundry room? You've got people cleaning their clothes, and all these other people huddled in there with their computers trying to send emails and such. It's funny. I feel like a smoker standing on a sidewalk on a cold, snowy day. And the same principle applies. It's amazing how many complete strangers with computers I strike up conversations with in the laundromat. It's like our own subculture. Right now I am talking to a fellow named Steve from Washington who is travelling to all the northernmost roads in North America with his wife. I wonder who it will be tomorrow.
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