His eyes are dark and piercing. His coat tan and shaggy, fluffy fur collar around his neck.

From where I sit at my desk, looking out the window, he appears like a wraith flowing through the forest.

He stops at the edge of the trees, just by the fence that separates our property from the trees and bushes that line the river.

He stares up at me.

I stare back.

I reach for my phone to take a photo. It’s not on my desk.

I get up, grab it from the island and race back to my desk. He is gone.

I wonder if I actually saw him. If this big, fluffy wild thing really was there.

I open the deck door. Step out into the chilly January air, move across its cold surface in my bare feet and peer upriver, through the trees.

And there he is. Loping along the river bank further upriver. He stops. Pauses. Turns his head to look back at me. He turns back towards the way he was going and continues on his way.

I snap a photo of his retreating back and he is gone.

I sat at my desk yesterday and a wild thing appeared in the woods in front of my window.

For a moment, I was surprised. Taken aback.

He looked at me as if to say, “Look at you sitting there in warmth and comfort, all domesticated while I wander the woods, wild and free. Come. Play with me.”

From the safety of the deck, which is 10 feet off the ground, I watched him lope gracefully through the woods, following the upstream bend of the river.

The closest I came to playing with him was to capture a photo from afar.

Perhaps it is best to keep my distance from the wild things. To watch from afar their fearless journey through the wilds of the city where the river flows through it and houses edge its banks.

Perhaps, being wild at heart doesn’t mean throwing off the cloak of gentility I wear to fit into this tamed and wild world I inhabit.

Perhaps, his call was not to come play with him but to remember the wildness of my heart calling me to cast off fear and run free as the wind through all my creative explorations.

Perhaps, he is my spirit animal calling me to remember I am wild at heart.

Or perhaps, he was really just saying, “This land is my land. I live here too.”

A coyote watched me as I sat writing at my desk yesterday.

A wild thing wandering the banks of the river as it flows through the city.

He paused, looked at me and continued on his journey to the west. To the grasslands beyond the city, the rolling foothills that lead to the Rockies.

He didn’t stay long in my view but his passing through reminded me to give in to the wild callings of my heart.

I am grateful.

Dear Santa,

I know. I know. It’s January and Dear Santa letters are so last decade and all but… here’s the deal. You’re the Big Guy in Red in charge of the Polar Express and all that jazz so I’m writing to let you know there seems to have been a mix-up.  You forgot to take the vortex back when you passed through just a few short weeks ago. Did you confuse the ‘express’ part of your journey with ‘vortex’?  Because this Arctic chill seems to be a tad excessive.

I know. I know. Express. Vortex. They kind of sound the same. But believe me, they’re not!

I’m not sure if you think maybe we deserve a taste of what you live with 365 days of the year, but Santa, you’re magic. You can endure inhuman temperatures. We’re mere humans. This cold is rather inconsiderate of you.

Wait! You say you didn’t send it? Well, you’re in charge of the North Pole and the Polar Vortex comes from there so who else might have sent it?

The elves?

What’s with them? Why would they want to inflict such nasty temps on a huge swathe of the land? What’s their problem?

Oh. They don’t have a problem, you say?

Well I think they do. ‘Cause Santa, you know there are a whole lot of little boys and girls counting on you come Christmas 2020 and a whole lot of adults who once believed and who keep the magic alive for you year after year.

So, Santa, listen up. Here’s the deal Santa.

Take it back. Make it stop. Make it go away.

‘Cause if you don’t, there may not be any cookies and milk for you and the reindeer come next December 25th.

Yup. That’s right. I’m threatening you with an extreme diet. Turnaround is fair game in extreme climes.

And believe me. This is rather extreme, even for the jolly old guy who sits up at the North Pole stirring the winds and sending them south!

Yeah. Yeah. You didn’t do it. The elves did.

But Santa. You’re the big boss. You need to take responsibility and get control of your elves.

You know, Beaumont the Sheepadoodle is rather displeased. His walks are mighty short and he’s blaming me. Dang it, Santa. Do you know what he’s like when he’s not happy with me? Yeah. Well. Remember the time Mrs. Claus caught you eating Christmas Cake in the back of the toy workshop and made you run laps around the benches? Yeah. That’s how displeased Beaumont is.

I can’t take much more of this Santa. The weather outside is frightful, the fire inside delightful and I’d rather be curled up into a ball and snuggled under the covers all day.

Unfortunately,  Beaumont heeds the call of nature with predictable regularity. He seems impervious to the cold and insists running and chasing the ball is fun – Polar Vortex or not!

So Santa, here’s the deal. I promise, I mean really, really promise, to be a good girl all year! Now, a year’s a long-time Santa so can you please, please, please stop with the Vortexing and just focus on shining up your Express for Christmas 2020? And I promise, there’ll be cookies and milk on the hearth when you come down the chimney!

I know, I’m pushing the calendar but Santa Baby, it’s cold outside!

Hoping for a favourable forecast, yours in the nice kind of weather,

Frozen

PS. For those in southern climes, here’s what the Polar Vortex means in Calgary today … -31C: -24F which with windchill feels like -38C: -36.4F  (and yes that’s a negative sign in front of the numbers)

Exhausted. Exhilarated. Tired. Happy. Proud (I actually did it! And survived as did the staff and the guests!)

After two days as the ‘guest chef’ at Mount Engadine Lodge, I’m feeling content. Mellow. Weary and energized. I want to keep cooking. Just not in quite such a high-stress (to me) environment!

The stress isn’t because of the work environment or the people — they are all incredible. The stress was because I put a lot of pressure on myself to make it ‘perfect’ and, I was working in a new environment doing something I’ve never done before — be in charge of a commercial kitchen for paying guests, preparing breakfasts and dinner on a schedule that met the high standards of the Lodge in providing guests with a special experience with exceptional surroundings, service, care and food.

No small order.

And I managed to serve it up!

It was an amazing time thanks to the team at Mt. Engadine. They were friendly, accepting, supportive, kind, patient (and believe me that was a necessary ingredient for this newbie who had no idea where things were or how things ran in the kitchen at the Lodge). Tony. Andrew. Jenna. Bianca. Helena. Francoise. Mark. Cornelia. Leschak. (And if I’ve missed you I apologize. It is my tired memory cells. Not you!) Thank You!

It takes a special someone to be able to work in a remote mountain lodge. You have to be independent. Willing to work and live 24/7 with your teammates. You have to appreciate and tolerate differences and be willing to seek value in all things and people. You have to be both introvert and extrovert. Able to create your own little bubble of quiet amidst communal living which is also your workspace, and able to get along with both fellow employees and the public.

The staff at Mt. Engadine do it all with grace, laughter and a whole lot of fun!

My two-day sojourn as ‘guest chef’ at the Lodge was wonderful thanks to the team. Because believe me, while I might cook at home for our dinner parties of 10 – 20 people, it is a very, very different experience in a commercial kitchen in a backcountry lodge where the food experience is as important as the outdoor one.

The pressure is intense. Particularly when you don’t know where many things are and, in particular, how the ovens work. The stove is a black looming castiron monster with 10 burners (most but not all of which light up) and two massive ovens, both of which have their own temperamental ways of heating up. That Moffat stove has sat along the southern wall of the kitchen for over 3 decades. It is a…. (hmmm let’s call it a delightful antique… that has its own rules of operation which seem to change hour by hour.  If the oven in the kitchen at Mt. Engadine could speak I am sure it would regale you with countless stories of Soufflés risen and fallen, bread baked golden and bread baked blackened.  Roasts cooked to perfection and roasts charred as dark as the mountain night, simply because, in the moment, the oven decided that’s the way things should be cooked.

Distance definitely does make the heart grow fonder. Memories of my adventures working with that stove and its ‘peculiarities’ make me smile this morning as I sit at my desk typing.

I didn’t have much time for typing while at the Lodge. I didn’t have much time for anything else other than cooking — Not because there wasn’t time to go for a snowshoe or fat bike ride. There was.

But, my mind was so consumed with worrying about planning,  prepping, preparing, presenting food, I didn’t have room in my head for thoughts of getting out to enjoy the outdoors.

And that’s okay. I don’t regret spending most of my time in the kitchen. I was having too much fun. And, the antidote to my worry was to prepare, prepare, prepare while holding myself mindful of being present in the moment, savouring al it had to offer.

Which goes to show that worry and fun can co-exist, as long as you don’t let the worry override your enjoyment of whatever you’re doing in the moment.

For me, that was made easy because of the staff at the Lodge. I knew that whatever came out of the mysterious workings of the oven would be okay. Because the staff would help make it so.

And so it was.

I just spent two days cooking at beautiful Mt. Engadine Lodge. Surrounded by soaring snow-covered peaks, the crystalline stillness of winter-shrouded air and the exquisite environment the Lodge creates for its guests (and staff) I feel grateful for the experience and blessed to have had it.

It was a blast!

And now… I’m going back to bed!

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