Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Logging Camp Mosquito Land

We’re now less than a hundred clicks away from the Norwest Territories in remotest, buggiest BC. The temperatures range from clouded sky blue to windy chilly and our logging camp is pretty much floating on a bog. Unfortunately, Lizzie and I no longer live outside so we spend very little time in direct daylight or washing planter dishes as the sun rises and sets. Fortunately, we’re inside all day and thus can control the flow of mosquitos that can make their way in to our kitchen and dining hall. On the break between shifts we tried to take an evening walk after washing up the dishes, putting away the food, wiping the counterspace- an attempt to “get outisde” and “out of the kitchen.” We lasted about a giggling 15 minutes as the mosquitos completely swarmed us, the muddy road clung to our shoes and the dogs went nuts over the bear spotted a few hours before right outside camp. We deemed the evening beautiful and came back to the dining hall. The pines here are dark and thin and the daylight is ever persistent- once again the night sky has not yet graced my eyes. We managed to truck out to our location over a three hour bumpy, rutted road (feeling new appreciation for those pioneers in covered wagons- we ourselves could do very little to conquer the deep muddy patches that could easily have stuck us). Since the rain the way is now unnegotiable by truck and the helicopter is our mode of transport.

I now approach each day’s meal with no planning except for a scan around the fridge and freezer and a general sense of what their tastes might fancy. I’m in a somewhat tricky position of trying to stretch certain ingredients that need to last us until we’re flown out- like milk, eggs, melons, lettuce, mayonnaise- while also use up whatever won’t last or will be a huge pain to sling back. I rather guiltily keep asking Lizzie to half the eggs called for in her baking recipes and I myself am looking for new, unique ways to secretly employ potatoes. For the meals I try to strike a balance between a number of interesting options, while also having one big hearty, meaty meal for those men who like to feel that they’re getting their daily slab of meat and not being fed by a namby pampy “healthy” vegetarian. It’s often hard to know what’s worth the time and effort when they get excited by breaded asparagus but then are happy to get a very simple ground beef cheese pie. I’m quite wary of potential complaint or malcontent so I do try to have a well balanced meal out of some fear rather than the pure joy of mixing up interesting things. I realized that my sense of planter and my employer’s expectations was contributing largely to my anxiety and its taken me a lot of time for me to start believing that almost everyone was trully happy with my cooking, my food bills weren’t extraordinarily high, and I could relax. Lizzie has the fun of simply baking delicious things that people find delightful, but I feel responsible if we run out of something or if someone is unhappy with what I’m cooking. Fortunately, Lizzie has been tremendously supportive in reminding me of how well things are going and in talking through my worries that are more of my own making than real.

I feel so lucky to be out here with Lizzie and to be living and talking and working with someone who I not only can stand 24/7, but enjoy and like and appreiciate immensely. We approach kitchen and cleaning work very much as a team and the other picks up the slack on days when one person is slow or just tired, we have the emotional “how are you” conversations when drained and in my case even teary, we discuss past life worries and trials, share ideas, and laugh at ourselves, our grubbyness and even been able to laugh when all seems at its worst (cake sagging and cracking, meatballs still red in the middle (two hours in the oven already!), mess on the floor, grumpy planters and piles of dishes.) People are kind though and we’re regularly greated with something to the degree of “so how are my two favourite people?” (we DO give them food) and been brought music as well as speakers for my laptop computer. Every supportive word is not taken in vain when their happiness and like of the food is quite important to me yet the tasks that we do can seem ridiculously huge for two people.

3 comments:

Anna McClurg said...

i was just thinking about you, alanna! so good to hear how everything is going. life seems to change drastically around here. only *i'm* not the one changing, it seems. everyone around me is! or maybe i am changing and i don't realize it? anyway, two of my best friends are now engaged (though somewhat unofficially, as they haven't received rings yet...is it just me or does that sound odd?) and though they say they will still hang out with me, i know it isn't so. girl time will completely change, though it already has. and i'm left wondering if i'm somehow "different" because i can't seem to conform to that way of living. dating for seven months and then pop the question? too fast. and then wedding prep seems overly dramatized and how everything needs to be "just so." and the bridesmaids have to buy their own dresses? are you kidding me? two weddings within a few months of each other. i think if i ever get married, i will do things much differently. small weddings have never sounded better than now. :) well there i go blabbing on. wishing you well out there in the wild! i envy you slightly, though it doesn't sound easy...that's for sure!

jbomh031 said...

Secretly employ potatoes? why not boil them up and serve it to the hearty men beside the slab of meet. A proper dutch meal, no fresh vegetables.

Lucid Elusion said...

Trust me, Alanna, when I tells ya that those planters are eating like kings. Between your passion & your desire for scrumptious delicacies, coupled with the seemingly innate skill you have with a skillet (or a dutch oven, or even a skewer), there's no way that I could even imagine a credible complaint in a mess hall messed by you et al.

When I was planting, our cook would repeatedly serve us boiled chicken & rice--both of which were cooked at the same time in the same aluminium foil roaster. Until you manage to sink to such a sorry state, consider yourself, instead, serving excellence! :)