Thursday, December 29, 2011

You've Had a Helluva Year, Winnipeg

When I moved here four-and-a-half years ago, the little hamlet of Winnipeg was having a bad day. Well, more like a bad couple of decades. You've all read about how much that bugged me. How I struggled to understand how people could feel so lousy about their city. Well, fast forward to 2011. Big changes are in the works, and Winnipeggers are PUMPED.

I'd wager to say it's a phenomenon that not a lot of people experience. It's like those cartoon snowballs that start out tiny, gain momentum, and morph into a massive hurtling snow planet. The progress snowball started with rumours of the Jets return (for 15 years they've been returning, so it was a mostly ignored rumour), then we see construction on Portage of funky new rental apartments. Next thing we know, the snowball's getting bigger: Ikea is coming to Winnipeg! Not just any Ikea, but the largest Ikea in Canada. Then construction of the first national museum outside of Ottawa. A Grey Cup final for the Blue Bombers to match their new home stadium. Then the beautiful reconstruction and revitalization of the city's Assiniboine Park and Zoo (the snowball's getting HUGE). Next the swishy new James Richardson International Airport. And oooh, how about a new entertainment district downtown?

Of course you know by now, the Jets DID come back. And wow, they couldn't have wished for more appreciative, adoring, decibel-busting fan club. I saved this one for last because arguably, it catalysed the biggest mood-transformation I've ever witnessed. And while I'm not a huge spectator sport fan, I am a huge fan of community pride. And for the first time in a long while, Peggy's got her mojo back. And just in time to rock 2012. Happy New Year, Happy Winnipeggers. GO JETS GO!

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Woof.

I always wanted a terrier. Like a Schnauzer. Or maybe a Westie. Something small, with a lotta attitude.

What dog sits like this?
And while I've always liked all kinds of dogs, big dogs never really registered for me. I found them all rather...boring. Sure, my very first dog Sargent was a German Shepherd. But I can barely remember the sandwich I had for lunch today, let alone the personality characteristics of my first childhood dog.

Jay too has always loved dogs. He just didn't want one of his own. He didn't want the poop, the hassle, the vet bills.  Some may say he's a cheap 'n lazy guy (not me. I wouldn't say that) but I subtly persisted. A cute little email attachment of the "dog of the day" from the humane society. Then another of a sweet pup from Kijiji (I know; damn puppy mills; they always post such stupid cute pictures to reel you in). Jay politely acknowledged them, and then ran away (figuratively, not literally). Of course I was doing this under the guise of "It's Good For The Children". Sparing you a lot of gory detail, he eventually conceded to going to the humane society for a look. He forewarned me: "A LOOK. That's all this is. You got that?"

The place was an echo chamber; a cacophony of barking mania.  Dogs jumping feverishly; desperate for attention. Desperate to leave. Yet there she was. A lazy ole lump, laying quietly on her bed. She wasn't small, but she wasn't big either. She looked like an experiment from Honey, I Shrunk the Dog.  I quietly called her name through the glass. Her big brown eyes connected with mine. Her excitement was detectable only by the tiniest of wiggles in her lower back half.

He tried to deny it. But from the moment he patted her giant head, Jay knew he was in trouble. Even more so when on the car ride home we awarded him the "winner" of the dog-naming contest.

Olive-the-Other-Reindeer ("Olive" for short) was welcomed into our clan on November 27, 2009 and we've been wagging our tails ever since.

Those paws seem impossibly large for such a small dog

Staring down a squirrel
Who me? No, I did NOT just attempt to eat the cat. Honest.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

BFFs

The tales of Saskiatoonberry and Brynana
As a kid, did you ever leave a best friend behind when your family moved away? Or perhaps you were the friend that was left behind...?

This happened to me in elementary school when my family moved from BC back to Quebec. On that day, my friend Melanie took a picture of me waving to the camera; my big smile surely meant I was oblivious to all that I'd soon be leaving behind.

More recently, I made my own decision as an adult to move my own family from Vancouver to Winnipeg. Even though that was four years ago, I can still feel that clanging in my chest. That aching feeling that there was a whole lot I was leaving behind. This time, not only my own best friend. But my child's best friend.

It's a lot to expect that small children would keep a fledging relationship alive, particularly one that was a mere 5 years young. But to my surprise, the wee girls have kept it going. A letter here, a Skype call there, interspersed with an occasional cross-country jaunt to hug and to play.

You know, they've been apart almost as long as they'd been together. My heart leaps when I recall their baby days, their toddler days, and their preschool days together. Of their untainted memories of each other. Of their unwavering proclamation of "BFFs Forever!" Of the way they ran down the hall to embrace each other, unrestrained, the first time after months apart. And finally, of their tiny voices as they bid a tearful goodbye once more. That stays with me. Always.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Cabbages and Kings

No. 2 in a series about life at The Cabbage...
"Gather 'round children! I'm going to tell you a story about a devilishly handsome, awfully good man who finds his heart-thump somewhere in the woods." There once was a man who took his responsibilities very seriously. Older than his years, he obligingly took care of the dishes, his children, the drainage and the dog. He took care of his chores, wearily, routinely, and (mostly) without complaint. Much of the time the man was exhausted.

One day his charming wife suggested a family outing to explore the countryside. They drove for a little more than an hour and suddenly there they were: smack in the middle of a wooded land! The man's eyes sparkled. They twinkled. A air of calm overtook him, and the family marveled.  For him, something had returned. Something he lost in the woods of his childhood. The same something that broke up beaver dams, trapped squirrels, led the family dog for hours through the wooded trails. The man's heart-thump had returned. His soul rejoiced!

For Jay, the heart-thump of The Cabbage is palpable. He becomes a different man, almost from the moment the car leaves our city home. His heart becomes lighter, his laughter quicker. The stillness of the morning air, the chitter-chat of birds, the whispered rustle of the birch trees: these are the things that fill his heart. Here, he is king of his land. And he, king of our hearts.

Gone Fishin'

Proclamations of love for Pop
Teaching his daughter bird calls

Lots of time for big love at The Cabbage

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Gobsmacked

No. 1 in a series on The Cabbage...

Spectacular sunsets on the 11th largest freshwater lake on Earth
I was gobsmacked when I found out Winnipeggers had such a well-entrenched lake culture. Usually, somebody mentions cottage country and well-marketed images of Ontario come to mind. But Manitoba? The prairies? 

Well, surprise! Humble little Manitoba is home to Lake Winnipeg: the 6th largest lake in Canada and 11th largest freshwater lake on Earth. Indeed, I expected to be landlocked when I moved away from the Pacific Ocean. Little did I know at the time that I'd be inheriting my very own inland ocean and eventually succumbing to the siren song of Manitoba Cottage Country.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Peer Pressure

Life can get real muddy sometimes
I have this friend. Let's call him Greg (an ingenious plan, as that is his real name). Greg may not have realized it at the time, but he gave me a reason to come on back to Olivebits. It's called peer pressure.
When I started this blog in early 2010, I had all these grand plans of regular posts, filled with beautiful, artistic, and relevant photography from my brand spankin' new digital SLR. Well, as most people (particularly those with small kids) know, life gets in the way of all purposeful intents. Piano lessons, tae kwon do lessons, drinking-too-much-red-wine-with-dinner lessons, all managed to derail my plans to empty my brain on a regular basis. Soon days became weeks. Weeks became months. Months became a year. All the while there was Greg, peering over the back fence, casually asking when the next blog post was coming. I had every excuse imaginable as to why I had abandoned my "artistic" pursuit, why life gets a little muddy sometimes, and well, damnit Greg, stop harassing me!
*Ahem*

All this to say, peer pressure is a wonderful thing. Especially for procrastinators. In a very microscopic way, Olivebits had resonated with someone other than myself. My personal proclamations of love for Winnipeg were reaching others, and well, that felt real nice. It felt like my little part of the web was touching someone else's part of the web, and suddenly this big expanse of a world felt just a little more connected.

So thanks, Greg. Thanks for the encouragement. Thanks for sharing my Peg-Love with others. Maybe you could ask them to drop me a line sometime. If even just to keep up that peer pressure. You KNOW what a slacker I can be.