Winnipeg Love Letters -- E is for Extreme Weather

I LOVE WINTER. In Winnipeg. There. I said it. Sorry, what's that? You're shaking your head and calling the therapist? Oh c'mon, I'm not really that nutters. Four out of four people in my family recently polled all declared the same. And believe-you-me, for a girl who grew up on the temperate west coast, this love of winter came as a bit of a surprise. 

In Vancouver, I would whole-heartedly agree with neighbours when they exclaimed (after the fifth consecutive month of rain) "Hey, at least we don't have to shovel it like the rest of the suckers in Canada!" Now granted I don't actually have to shovel here (thanks Jay), but the crunch of the snow, the sparkle of it, the blinding reflected light is like a shiny little miracle to me. And speaking of light: seasonal affective disorder begone! But woe are the sunglass-less eyeballs peering at endless bright blue sunny skies of Winnipeg winters. Now that hurts. 

During our first winter here I realized something: I felt like a real Canadian. I finally got all the snow and cold jokes. I loved the idea of the outdoor skating rink just down the street. I love layering up. I love my utterly unsexy snowpants. I love watching the kamikaze winter cyclists bearing down in -40C (my hubby being one of them). And I love love LOVE the Snow Beard (it's when ice crystals form on anything with the slightest bit of moisture). It's pioneer-sexy!

Sure, a lot of you out there already know you hate winter. I can respect that. But this love note is for closeted winter-people. Especially those who live in places where the rest of the country think it's unbearably extreme. It isn't. For once, I'd like to see Winnipeg Tourism actually develop a destination campaign on how the city  shines in winter. 'Cos it really does. It shines so much, you better not forget your sunglasses.

Winnipeg Love Letters -- N is for Not Vancouver

"Traitor!" They're shouting. "She leaves the city and the first thing she does is slag her old hometown!"

They're deleting me from Facebook. Demanding I return my Fleuvog shoes. Blocking me from the Stanley Park livecam. 

Dog-friendly sunsets on Lake Winnipeg

Oh Sweet and Darling Inhabitants of Lotusland this is not about you. Honest. It's not about you and your majestic natural vistas. Nor your orca-laden ocean, temperate climate, and pedestrian-friendly, densified downtown that you market so well. No. This is about how Winnipeg is Not Vancouver. And how, despite your incredulity, we're good with that.

I love these prairie people. At one point in the early days of settling into our new hometown, I wanted to make a customized t-shirt. I wanted it to say on the front: Aspiring Flatlander. And on the back: Recovering Vancouverite.

So how do I compare thee? Let me count the ways: Sunsets. Vancouver has lovely sunsets that while admirable, don't last very long as they dip behind the mountains and submerge into the ocean. Winnipeg and environs has jaw-dropping, crazy-ass big sky sunsets that seem to last forever (a boon to romantic evenings). Crowds. After a lifetime of arriving hours early, or even skipping events altogether because we had crowd fatigue, we still marvel at the fact that we rush to get somewhere early to "find parking" and battle "the crowds", only to find we practically have the place to ourselves. Traffic. It takes a helluva long time to get anywhere in Vancouver. Possibly a reason lots of people bike. Even in the driving sleety rain. Well, I can't say Winnipeg doesn't have traffic issues. But that usually involves the suburban part of the city, which no self-respecting urbanite would travel to anyway (sorry Loren). Housing costs. Century-old home in immaculate condition on a beautiful elm-lined street. Vancouver: $1.2 million-ish. Winnipeg: $285,000. I think you might be getting the picture. It's Quality of Life. See previous points re: sunsets, housing, crowds, traffic.

I could go on. But I don't want all my wonderful friends in Vancouver to feel bad about where they live. I realize that not everybody is lucky enough to live in Winnipeg.

Old School

Remember that blog when I dreamed about being smart? Well, it's definitely a dream. After I wrote my environmental law exam, I realized, with sadness, my own limitations. Where'd I go wrong? I studied hard. I had beautifully typed and organized notes. I shunned my young children for all things legal.  

Immediately following the exam I sauntered over to the least ageist classmate I could find and sought a little post-trauma empathy. DENIED. Apparently I was mislead. The exam was actually awesome. It was a snap. A piece of frickin' cake. Whaaaaa?  

Maybe online education, instead?

Well, damn you. Damn you and your youthful brains. The one not yet riddled with alzheimer plaque. Damn you and your ability to enjoy the full experience of university. Not having to keep the career in check and the children unscarred and the husband happy and the dog watered and walked. Damn you and your ability to wear stylish clothes in frigid weather and not be hampered by a toque, snowpants, a parka, and mittens (I don't like to be cold, okay?) I know learning is a lifelong pursuit. I know education is an investment. I know they say you're never too old to go back to school. But darlings, I'm telling you, from experience...LIFE experience...that yes Virginia, there is a limit. One's vanity in the face of youth is the variable they never discuss. Going back for a PhD in your 40s may be okay. Finishing off an undergrad? Well, I might suggest online education for you.

Winnipeg Love Letters -- N is for Neighbourhood

My dearest Winnipeg, boy oh boy did you get it right when you put my neighbourhood Wolseley together. Walking distance to downtown. Magnificent 100-year elm canopies. Fully intact heritage homes. Friendly little eco-friendly businesses that are fully embraced and supported by their neighbours. Annual community picnics and block parties. Streets closed to traffic for cycling on Sundays. Walking distance and several public access points to the river. Plenty of smiling people. Plenty of sour people. Plenty of young people, old people, wealthy people, gettin'-by people. Lots of dogs and lots of cats. 

I gotta tell ya, when I first visited this neighbourhood I couldn't shake the images I saw. They startled me. They were images of a bygone era: kids running freely up and down the streets. Shrieking. Laughing. Not an adult in sight. Using the sidewalks and the boulevards as their backyards. It was straight out of a...heads up: here's your cheesy alert...a Rockwell painting. I'm not lyin'. Honest. 

I love that this tiny neighbourhood is mocked for boycotting the mosquito sprays. I like that people think we're all eco-freaks (some of us are, some of us aren't). I like that people haul patio furniture across the alley into your yard for an impromptu BBQ that lasts much too long for the children, and not long enough for the grown-ups. It's all these little niblets of community that make up my neighbourhood. And I know Winnipeg's got plenty of other gems out there. 

Tell me about yours, will you?