He was a great guy. I still remember the day that we got him, and how calmly he watched us as we approached the kennels at the breeder’s—his brothers and sisters were yapping away, but he was just sitting and watching us, ears perked and brown eyes shining in the sun. He was the first dog that the breeder brought out for us to meet, and as a timid guy, he trembled for a lot of it—but calmed a bit as I petted him while the grown ups were talking. I was nine, and he was three and a half months old, part of an out of season litter of pups. (“Love puppies” as they’re known.) We met a couple other dogs, but he was the one we kept. I don’t even know what the decision was, just that he was our dog. Kimmiq’s name comes from the Inuit word for “dog,” which is qimmiq. We didn’t really know how to spell it (obviously), so his name became a combination between qimmiq and kimik (which means “heel”).

snowshoeing in Yellowknife, NWT, on Tin Can Hill

Kimmiq became a constant in my life growing up; as a teenager and then young adult, so many things change that it’s nice to have a few things that don’t. He was always there after I came home from school, and it was my job to take him for his afternoon walk. In Yellowknife, we explored Tin Can Hill together (which was right behind our house), and when we moved back to Revelstoke, he and I traipsed up and down the Greenway at the end of our street every day. Nothing brought him to the kitchen faster than scraping the cast-iron frying pan, and he loved nothing more than playing fetch with sticks, tennis balls, or frisbees. Our last dog never got the hang of frisbee, but Kimmiq made some magnificent leaps to catch his. He would always meet you at the door and butt his head into your knees for scratches.

His first bedroom was our office, where once I discovered the wonders of the internet, we kept each other company. Eventually his basket was moved downstairs, where he kept my mum company sewing or my dad company while he watched TV. He often accompanied my mum to work, and always eagerly awaited his dog bone treat once they got there. I know of no other dog who had as many hand-quilted beds as Kimmiq did; my mum is quite the quilter, and our carpets a very light shade, so he had beds all over the house and in her office.

He was always an easy going dog, and timid, but had a steady and gentle nature that made him patient and relaxed. He would just watch, tilt his head, thwap his tail, and always leaned into cuddles. In the springtime, his fur always smelled sweet like cottonwood buds.

Well Kimmiq, you’re in doggy heaven now. You were well loved and will be much missed, and never ever forgotten!

I took a break from essay writing yesterday to take advantage of well-priced blueberries at our local produce store. Mum sent me her tried-and-true blueberry pie recipe. It wasn’t as good as her pie, but that’s because mum gets to use freshly picked wild blueberries from around Revelstoke. They’re a lot tangier and tastier, though I will say that our pie worked out darn well anyhow.

Read more for the recipe…

The Morris’ Blueberry Pie

First, make the pie crust by following these instructions:

Filling ingredients:

• 4 cups fresh blueberries
• 1/2 cup granulated sugar
• 1/2 cup instant tapioca + 1 tbsp
• 1 tbsp lemon juice

After refrigeration, roll out dough into a 9″ pie plate. Prick with fork. Fill with blueberry mixture, roll out other half of dough and cover the pie. Be careful not to overfill the pie, as blueberries tend to bubble over and get messy. Cut into the top of the pie to make 3-4 holes for the moisture to escape. Bake for 15 minutes at 450 F, then turn down to 350 F and bake for another 30 minutes, until crust turns a golden colour. Let cool for a minimum of two hours, in order to let the tapioca set.

Serve with vanilla ice cream and a glass of milk, and enjoy!

Anyway, a few photos, just to save me a couple thousand words!

on our way from Cairns to Port Douglas and the Daintree–Michael, moi, Jeremy, and Ola

aww

lunch at the Sydney Tower… rotating restaurants are the bomb!

the Golden Gate Bridge in San Fransisco, as seen on my flight home to Canada

Lake Shushwap, driving to Vancouver

happy 2008!

my new room, “before”

the “after”

the girls, out for the sing-along at the Railway; Joan, Ali, and Kate (Joan and Kate are from the east coast, and I may be living with Ali next year!)

out for dinner at Nyala African Cuisine for Deanne’s 21st

And of course, I’ve been catching up on my scrapbooking! Fiji is already finished, click the link below to see the other pages:

From Scrapbook Pages