Way down California close to Joshua Tree
Way back up in the desert with the sand and scree
There stood a log cabin made of mirrors and wood
Where lived a country boy name of Johnny B. Goode
Who never ever learned to read or write so well
But he could play the guitar just like ringing a bell

A really moving piece. I had to suspend disbelief with the radio, though. I am pretty sure these types of radios work on half-duplex mode (like a CB radio). If Anigaaq is speaking, he's holding down the microphone button, and so his radio cannot receive. That's why radio speaking practices include the call "over" when the speaker is finished. It indicates that the frequency is clear to receive.

What an act of love. Beautiful.
It may be time to watch the anime "Wandering Son"

The article linked is really very cute, and quite a testament to the love this couple hold for each other. The comments were a bit disturbing, because many pointed out the many different ways in which the Victorian era was, well, pretty nasty for those who weren't white and wealthy.
Some people are maybe too serious. I mean, this is mostly an extended cosplay, and it's kinda cute.

That's a really tidy sheep barn. I'm impressed with the all-wooden walls and gates. Barns that I have seen have chewed-up pens and lots of welded wire instead of solid wood.
It's also interesting that none of the sheep have their tails docked, even the adults.

The urinal is so poorly designed. Having a hard vertical surface perpendicular to the urine stream is almost a guarantee for spashback. A better design should provide some surface that is almost parallel to the stream, allowing the liquid stream to merge with the porcelain surface and lose momentum. A projecting ridge in the center of the urinal's back wall should be provided to act as a 'landing spot' for the urine stream.
Simply saying "pee sitting down" or "stand closer" is insufficient. A good engineering solution is called for here.

"Santa Claus is just about the most popular fictional character of all time, . . ."
Wait a minute . . . . 'fictional?'
.
*sniff*
Waahhhh!

Four time zones kind of make sense, if we were to abandon 'daylight savings time'. Two time zones are too few.

Is that _supposed_to be Hitler smiling in the pot?

Why are chicken feet called "paws" but pigs feet are called . . . 'feet'?
I like 'em, but when I suggest cooking them, people look at me like I just proposed eating the family dog.
The feet have very little fat, but their rich flavor comes from the gelatin that's packed in the thick skin and the many, many bones. They are ideal for cooking with beans.
When I can get away with it, I will soak pinto beans and put them in jars, add a half a pig-foot, a couple cloves of garlic and a slice of onion. Close and pressure-cook at 15 psi for 30 minutes. The skin will become soft and chewy, while the beans have a very rich taste and texture.
After processing, complete the seals and then hide the jars where nobody else in the family will have to see them.

"Haunting" is right. It's a beautiful song, and it is always perfectly evocative of the unreal feeling that the desert can bring. The lyrics don't need to mean anything, nor do they need to make sense. They become little half-formed thoughts that come and go in the quiet and isolation of the wilderness.