Daily Prompt: Buffalo Nickel
Dig through your couch cushions, your purse, or the floor of your car and look at the year printed on the first coin you find. What were you doing that year?
I live in the land of Beaver Nickels and Sailboat Dimes. Here is the first coin I came across this morning (and what do you know, it was in the zippered change purse of my wallet, no scrounging around on the dirty floor mats of the car for me).
So what was I up to in 1977? Well, probably my ears in toys. My son turned one year old in February of 1977, and my daughter had her third birthday in July. We were living in Cambridge Bay, Northwest Territories, land of bleak and frozen treeless tundra. It’s the year we moved to Inuvik, NWT, land of bugs and mud and utilidors.
It’s the year my sister got married, and we came south that June to thaw out and delight in all things green and sunny for a couple of weeks.
We went canoeing on the Saugeen River with the soon to be newly weds and our brother and sister-in-law. I wore long sleeves so my pasty white winter skin wouldn’t burn and look ridiculous with the peach colored bridesmaid dress. Unfortunately my hands were the only thing that got too much sun, so they stood out rather nicely in some of the photos. Such a silly thing to remember.
It’s the year we cut off my sons beautiful blond curls so that he looked more like a little boy and less like an angelic cherub. We moved in to an end unit in a row house amidst a sea of similar row houses. We let our daughter ride her tricycle on the board walk but only as far as the hospital and back. She recounted her adventures to everyone who would listen – I rode my bike-a-dose to the hos-pi-dose! Impressive story.
1977 was the beginning of our four-year stay in Inuvik. It was where the kids started school, where I played baseball, drove a beat up old blue Volkswagen, went down the MacKenzie River to a real whaling camp, worked as an enumerator for a federal election, made friends and watched them move away, and then lost touch and made new ones.
In 1977 I was just busy being a wife and a mom, living with the most gawd-awful looking furniture ever issued by a government to a federal employee. The kids did not appear to be bothered much by this at all.
14 thoughts on “Twenty Five Cent Caribou”
Yes, the furniture is ugly, and double yes, the smiles are beautiful!
A beautiful picture.
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