Last Sunset

-image from Google Images

The Sun is taking it's last peak at Antarctica this Sunday. A brief glimpse, nothing longer than an hour or two before it slumbers away for the winter. Even now, as I write this, the moon hangs brightly in the sky, arrogantly flaunting it's dominance above the land, still not full, but bright enough that the twilight colors in the sky can't compete. Darkness will reign in May as twilight fades to night. Three months of starry skies, stars so bright that they are beacons of hope to dreamers below. Already I have seen some, companion to the moon they decorate the blanket of black and twinkle with mirth and glee. What do they know, what can they tell, only as the days become nights will I learn their secrets. With slight trepidation I wait for it, while others sigh with relief. "Finally" they say as though the sun has been a struggle for them. With an uneasy eye I watch the horizon line and think, the sun does not always come back. Not here. Not in Antarctica.

Winter Pacing

-Image from Google Images

So as you've noticed I'm not posting too often. There is a simple answer for that.

One word.

I'll let you guess.....................................................................................................................................

.....................................................................................................................Winter. No I haven't died, vanished or turned to ice (Although sometimes my feet do when I sit too long to update my blog). You know the old adage, no news is good news, well it applies to this time of year. Antarctica slows down, the life in McMurdo settles in like the snow and although there are daily activities, excursions are limited and life becomes routine. There are things you can do like game night, Burger Bar, Lectures and such, but I don't do them too often as I've turned 80 and now eat dinner at 4:30pm and must go to bed between 8 and 9 pm. (I also get up at 5am but well . . . .) I guess what I am trying to say is that I post what I think is interesting, and right now things are normal. Funny how you think living on Antarctica could be described as such, but it is. People have birthdays, they cry, throw parties, you know, everyday ordinary stuff. There are movie nights, Game Nights, get togethers and shin digs, but all in all, normal.

So if any of you are worried, concerned or bored, and look to my blog for daily updates, sadly they will not be. Those of us here have slipped into a human hibernation mode of eat, sleep, workout and relax. Oh there is the occasional fashion show, mid winter dinner, and possible fire emergency, but those are singular occurrences. So please, tune in occasionally, not often, and there will be something to read. I could get all philosophical and such, and write down those rants, but no one wants to hear the ravings of a lunatic at the bottom of the world (we are all starting to go a little mad. Memory loss and blank stares have filled in conversations. "Hey You" has replaced names, and to see someone standing in the middle of the hall way staring at the wall is common place - I will be surprised if I still remember how to speak by the time I leave)

To those of you who wink and nudge me to write more often, I cannot. If I did, slowly this blog will morph into an ordinary one and I don't want that to happen. I would like to keep it unique so until something of "Uniquness" happens, there will be lapses in my posts. Should you fear that I have fallen into a cravas or been eaten by the other members of the community, your imagination has gotten away from you and you should stop eating sugar and watching television without the lights on. There I've said it and I feel better. I hope it wasn't too hurtful and you have not started to cry.

Know that I write when I can, of what I can, so that both you and I won't get bored.

Old Stuff Can be Cool

First I must say a huge "Thank You" to Gemma. These are all her photos. I left me camera in my room~

Tonight I went to the Antarctica Heritage Conservation meeting. I wasn't sure what to expect, thinking it was science related, and was wonderfully surprised. They are the group in charge of conserving the huts at Cape Evans and Cape Royds. Several explorer groups have used the huts as they traversed the Continent, but the oldest is Scott's Expedition and Shacklton's. Both men's journeys were extraordinary and crazy. Why would you want to cross a giant Ice landscape? To the be the first I imagine. I wonder if it is any different than wanting to go to the moon? Why would you want to go somewhere where conditions can kill you just like that? The trill? Theexcitement? Perhaps I should have asked myself the same questions before I came down here. Although the threat to my life was minimal compared to earlier explorers and astronauts.

So they had different items from both huts, from clothing, to food. They are opening the box crates because they are deteriorating and they want to preserve what ever is inside of them. They say each one is like Christmas since they don't know what they'll find. They've found canned plums, flour, and corn among some of the items. It was interesting hearing the conservationists talk, you could just see their childlike wonder and passion about what they are doing. The huts turn a 100 this year, and they're permit to restore them runs out the end of the year. As you can believe they have a large undertaking and are trying to get as much done before the items have to be replaced for another 100 years

The Crates they are opening like Christmas Presents (Bag of Corn found in one crate)

Clothing found at Scott's Hut

Bicycle from 1910 Expedition (Only rode once and for less then 10 minutes)

Man's name was etched into the side

What I found most interesting was the mystery, the puzzles of conservation. Finding items from long ago and trying to figure out what they are or what they were used for. There was a tin can with a handwritten note on it, a description of it's contents, but the label was so corroded that you could only make out part of the word - "Chalk"; but what was the first word. Eyes straining you try and piece together the scratches you see, knowing they form a word, answer the question and yet your mind can't piece them together. What a frustration. A challenge. Oh what a mystery that lays within close reach with just a little imagination.

Tin with mysterious words written - Only the word "Chalk" was legible. What was the rest?

Conservationists can't catalog every item because they don't know every item, being asked as a viewer if you perhaps knew what it was was new. I'm used to the idea that scientists know everything, every item is always labeled with a date, time, location, without hesitation or doubt. Knowing that there is so much found around the world that can't be labeled - is studied with a a sigh and a shrug - cataloged as unknown, you don't really see that in museums. Wouldn't it be a surprise if one day you were visiting a museum and you see a beautiful object, smooth and curved, something about it is familiar, your mind thinks it has seen it before, but when you look for the small tag to tell you what it is, there is a single note. Written in pencil it says, "If you know what this is, write it on the wall around the corner," so you go drawing the pen from your pocket but as you turn the corner, the space is covered with sprawling handwriting. From different hands the items known identity is written, but as you look closer each frame of letters is different. One person has written something, while another something else. The wall is covered with different answers, but all that are the known facts by individuals. What strange things would people say that the discover was. Would your contribution to that piece make it more important, more relevant to you? Would you want to know what it really was, or be more fascinated by what others think it to be? What stories would the unknown history of that piece create? Would you add your own to the wall? What would that object be to you? Would your culture effect what it is, would your travels have revealed where you had seen it before? What would your answer be?

So, conservation is about saving what is deteriorating from the past so that those in the future can see what history was. I enjoyed the experience and got a lot more out of it than I expected.

McMurdo's Next Top Model

-None of these photos (nor video) are mine. They were taken by different community members who I would like to say Thank you too.

If you've never watched America's Next Top Model, you should. This Winter's Fashion Show Theme was based on that. The Fashions were new items from the vessel, the modes McMurdians, and the challenge, not being too intoxicated that they fall off the stage. What fun!

There was a runway, lights in a myriad of colors, swag bags that consisted of model size snakes (3 cheese puffs) and other such goodies, while the paparazzi mingled among the crowds waiting for the stars to arrive. People munched on specialty small hors d'oeuvres, sipped donated wine and generally looked forward to the hype of the event. A red carpet led up the stairs to the entry of the show and at 8pm the doors were thrown open and the audience flooded in.

So I was backstage crew, one of two, making sure the models took to the runway at their cue, where in the right order, and dressed with the correct piece. Some nervous models almost puked, while others begged to be last or even began to edge away from the curtain as their time came. I would have thought them unprofessional if I had not been laughing so hard, or so busy chasing after them as they dodged behind the condiment line. Once they were tackled, arranged, fluffed and assured of their general good looks, I give them a friendly shove and make them walk the plank-I mean runway. It was fun, being involved behind the scenes. In total there were 24 models, and 6 finalists who battled it out in the. They all died on stage, having wanted it so bad they killed each other, while the judges looked on and audience members tried not to giggles as hair was pulled, tutus were grabbed and glasses knocked off noses. In the end, it was the unknown model JohnTo, who early had bribed the judges who won.

I always marvel at the things I get a chance to do, and how they tie into a story that I'm writing. Working the fashion show, being a dish washer, all these roles tie into pieces of fiction that perhaps some day I'll write. But I digress . . . .

The Pre-Show Social -----

All 24 Models

The Photographers

The top 6 Models

Keri the whole brains behind the Operation (Left)

Yummy Goodness!

Let the Show Begin ----

The Runway

Work it Travis!

The Judges

Only watch the first 2 minutes (the rest is blank)

The Final Walk Off ---

The show lasted about an hour, with an after party at the Bar, and everyone, including the losers were in good spirits. It was an event not to be missed, and I'm glad I didn't.

Scott Base Dinner

This evening I got to dine out for dinner in New Zealand in fact. Scott Base every Thursday invites a small group of McMurdians to come over and spend the evening meal with them. There are only 13 of them so our added number is noticeable. We took a shuttle over, and after removing our shoes and slipping on our house shoes (Fawna I got dishes of praise over the slippers you sent. Everyone loved them - you're sense of style is international) we were lead to the dining hall/lounge. Everything is new and clean, efficient and spacious. A large contrast between our humble digs. The meal was delightful, with cake and real ice cream to top off the gastronomic event. Most of us spent our time admiring all the things that were different, and enjoying the company. I had a wonderful time and am glad I went.

They have an amazing view from their lounge that is right off the main dining area.

This nice of a hang out would be trashed at the end of one summer at McMurdo, but the Kiwis know how to take care of their things.

Their green house, small but efficient. I looked at it and thought, oh plants! I need to make it to our greenhouse and take some pictures.