Inspired by Greg G’s recent blog post, I thought I’d share my own list of dream Winnipeg-related Jeopardy categories. (This meme comes from Douglas Coupland’s excellent novel, Microserfs, which is probably one of my all-time faves.) I’m still a relative newcomer to the city, but here are a few categories I’m pretty sure I could ace:

• Size and Locality of Potholes on the Disraeli Bridge and Overpass, circa March
• Common Typographical Errors by Commenters on the Winnipeg Free Press Website
• Odds of Vegetarian Entree Availability at Catered Events
• Winnipeg Wrap Form & Function

Aaaaaand a few I’m sure I would fail miserably at:

• Underground Navigation of Portage & Main
• Social Music 101
• Minnesota/North Dakota peasant-vision ads of the 80s

Okay, so I know they’re not standard Jeopardy-type categories, but I had fun coming up with them.

What are your dream (or dreaded) Winnipeg-related Jeopardy categories?

In the midst of Boulevard, the big kick off for Festival du Voyageur 2010, I found myself thinking about what life must be like right now in my old city, Vancouver. Since I moved here a year and a half ago, I’ve often thought of the friends and colleagues I had there, but I never really thought too much about how the city was doing, aside, of course, from being glad I wasn’t there for the chaos I was sure the Olympics would bring. Last night, that changed a little bit.

Decked out with our macarons and our voyageur sashes (I couldn’t find my prized Clou’Donc glove in time), we had enjoyed the live music on Provencher, checked out this year’s Festival merch (the beard t-shirts? awesome!), had a little pea soup, and taken in the fireworks (I’d never seen fireworks in the winter before – pretty neat!). Counting dogs wearing clothes along the way (Vancouver doesn’t have a total monopoly on that!) we made our way down to Garage Cafe, where we planned to catch the Johnny Cajun show. Alas, we were way too late: the place was packed and the chances of us getting a table were nil.

As we stood there, mulling over our options, our eyes were drawn to the TV tuned to the broadcast of the 2010 Games opening ceremonies. Laurel and I were oddly captivated. From there, headed to the Parc du Voyageur to check out the Snow Sports Bar, where we knew they’d be playing the ceremonies, too. The Parc was buzzing with excitement and good music rose into the night. Sure enough, the outdoor snow bar had a massive screen set up, and lots of people were watching intently or not-so-intently. Ice cups of caribou were everywhere. (We were all abstaining, for one reason or another, so no caribou or Fort Gibraltar lager for us… boo!)

After having explored all the tents and checked out some of this year’s snow sculptures, we realised we were tired and decided to head back home and see if we could catch the end of the opening ceremonies. Back home with our boots and mitts off, we caught the last hour or so of the ceremonies. Watching the elaborate and impressive show, I felt both proud and disconcerted, in a way. Proud to be Canadian, proud to have once called the host city home. Proud of our musical and literary talents and our sporting heros. Proud that Canada had the opportunity to wow the world, and didn’t fail!

But also disconcerted: the amount of money that must have been spent on this one event is staggering — with the nation’s poorest postal code just blocks away, and the devastation in Haiti still fresh in our minds, one can’t help but think of what that money could be better spent on.  And after a celebration of Canada’s diverse culture, it was hard not to notice that the Olympic flagbearers and torchlighters were all caucasian. Seeing footage of Georgian luger Nodar Kumaritashvili’s fatal accident on the news afterwards had me feeling solemn and uneasy as  I headed to bed.

Watching Gretzky travel down the streets of my old stomping ground, memories of my five years in Vancouver rushed back. For as much grumbling as locals had been doing ever since the host city was announced in July 2003, just months after I’d made the city home, it must have been an amazing night for everyone who found themselves on the streets of downtown Vancouver. Earlier this week I’d received an email from my old boss, who said that the office was really getting into the spirit of things, with theme days, prizes, and flexible work schedules to accommodate everyone. From her window, she said, she could see the zipline that had been installed over Robson Square, and they were having fun watching the aerial view of organizers testing it out. It seems that despite everyone’s worst-case thinking, the Games had actually arrived, and everything was actually pretty cool.

Something I thought would never happen, happened: I found myself thinking, “It wouldn’t be so bad to be there right now.” But I was also thinking how if I were there, I wouldn’t be here, in Winnipeg. This city that throws a half-outdoor party in the middle of winter, that celebrates the snow and cold with music and food and fun and games. And it throws this party every year!

The world’s biggest party is in Vancouver and British Columbia right now, and I’m glad I can tune in to the coverage every now and then (a Winnipegger’s gotta watch her curling!). But I wouldn’t miss the party happening in my own backyard for the world.

Okay, so it’s a cheap ripoff of “Love Me, Love My Winnipeg”, but I hope it got your attention, because this is a really important topic.

Some of you may know that when I’m not blogging about Winnipeg, I run the library at a law firm. I’ve been working in the library field since 2003, and I love my job! Even though I work in the private sector, I still feel pretty passionately about supporting other types of libraries, especially public and school libraries.

A few weeks ago, library CUPE Local 500 members took to the streets outside the Millennium Branch of the Winnipeg Public Library, handing out information about their Positively Public campaign and  trying to raise awareness about cuts to library funding. I got one of these pamphlets and have been thinking about it ever since. I had just started to formulate this post when I got an email from a blog reader on the same topic. This is an issue on many citizens’ minds.

If you care about the Winnipeg Public Library, you should let your city councillor know that you’re opposed to budget cuts that will  reduce staffing  and funding to our valuable community institution. The City of Winnipeg’s Adopted Operating Budget 2009 shows that jobs have been (and will continue to be) eliminated and overall library funding will be cut (see pp.108-109). Plus, they’re talking about outsourcing (privatizing) the cataloguing department.

This is despite steadily rising visits to the library (both in-person and to the library’s website), increasing numbers of library card holders, increasing computer bookings and use of online databases. It makes no sense to me.

I really believe that people use the library more and less at different times of their lives. Many talk about library use going up during times of economic difficulty, but I think it’s more than that. To give just one example: a young professional with tons of disposable income may not think of going to the library all that often. But a few years down the road when that young professional is now a young parent, the library with its endless supply of kids’ books and CDs and free, quality programming starts to look a little more appealing. Even if libraries don’t seem that important to you just now, I guarantee that you will be grateful for them at some point down the road. Your neighbours will be, too.

Libraries aren’t just about books – far from it. They are community institutions that promote literacy, provide access to information, offer cultural and entertainment activities, support newcomers, students, and job-seekers, provide resources in alternate formats for people with disabilities… the list is endless. Every cut to library funding takes away from what services WPL can offer. We’re not just talking about fewer book acquisitions, we’re talking short staffing, longer waits for service, and fewer programs.

So, the best thing you can do is let your city councillor know that you want to see increases, not decreases, to the WPL’s staffing and overall funding. The best people to run a community institution are the library that live in the community, so be sure also let your feelings about outsourcing be known. A recent article in the Globe & Mail explained how to get a politician’s attention (tip: a personal e-mail is often the best way). And, oh yeah, keep using your library! (I’m off to email my councillor.)

Over at The World According to Ace, Ace Burpee posted about the massive success of the Hot 103 “I Heart Haiti” t-shirt campaign:  ”It’s not out of the question to think that we may have created a $100,000 charity t–shirt. Keep it going. We’re on board. This is a great town.”

Very cool, and also not surprising. In December ‘09, the Fraser Institute’s Generosity Index ranked Manitoba as the most generous province in Canada — for the 10th year in a row! Makes me proud to call this province home.

For information on legit organizations to donate in support of disaster relief in Haiti, including ways to text donations, visit www.cbc.ca/haitirelief/.

I’ve just read an interesting piece that explores the myth of Winnipeg, particularly as it relates to Winnipeg’s arts scene. While I found the author’s observations on how much Winnipeggers like to talk about Winnipeg and how in Toronto you can go to a carefully curated “Winnipeg Social” to be entertaining, the article also explores more serious topics, such as how under-represented and overlooked the city’s aboriginal arts community is, and how that fits into Winnipeg’s white mythology.

I’d never heard of Manitoba-based Canadian Dimension magazine until I stumbled across this article, and I see that the entire current issue is devoted to Winnipeg. I’m off to read the other articles (about the North End and the city’s radical past) now!

Read Ed Janzen’s The Power of Myth: How Winnipeg and Its Art Became Such a Big Deal at Canadian Dimension magazine.

A huge congratulations to the High Tea Bakery here in the ‘Peg. It seems their scrumptious imperial cookies will be featured at a couple of pre-Golden Globe events.  The WoMH gang tried these delicious cookies last summer and was mightily impressed. You can be sure we’ll swing by again on our quest to find Winnipeg’s best imperial cookie next month.  Way to go, High Tea Bakery!

–via ChrisD.ca

It’s been a pretty amazing year for me here in the ‘Peg. This blog has turned out to be one of the neatest things I’ve done in a long time. And while I’ve lost my two fellow bloggers (Laurel moved to be closer to her family in August, and Aaron recently took a job out of province), it’s my goal to keep the blog going here for the foreseeable future. Anyone interested in guest posting?

Anyway, since the end of the year is the perfect time for lists, and in particular, lists of resolutions, I decided to put some thought into what I’d like to do in 2010 here in my adopted hometown.

• Try the hot chocolate at Constance Popp Chocolatiers… I’m told it’s spectacular!
• Go skating on the world’s longest naturally-frozen skating trail, a.k.a. The River Trail.
• Go to Grand Beach, apparently one of the best beaches in the world!
• Do Part 2 of the search for Winnipeg’s Best Imperial Cookie with Laurel when she visits in February during Festival du Voyageur
• Go to the Farmer’s Market more often
• Start backyard composting
• Explore the Exchange District
• Go to more concerts (looking forward to 2010: The Concert this weekend!)
• Patronize local businesses more often. Some recent neighbourhood discoveries include Sam’s Place and Sonya’s Family Restaurant (see an awesome write-up of Sonya’s at Breakfast in Winnipeg). The closure of McNally Robinson is yet another reminder to shop locally if local businesses matters to you! I’m going to try to make more of an effort this year to do that.
• Find a family doctor, dentist, and massage therapist – this one may prove the hardest. I found an optometrist close to my house who I really like, but my current doctor’s office is a 25-minute drive away and not really doing it for me. I have yet to find a dentist though I’ve got some leads. An RMT would be great, too! Any recommendations for these health professionals in East Kildonan?

Off the top of my head, those are just a few of the things I’d like to do over the next year. With any luck I’ll accomplish most of them and remember to report back this time next year. I’d love to hear others’ Winnipeg-related resolutions for 2010… please share in the comments!

With the year almost through, I want to give big props to my fellow Winnipeg bloggers — thanks for all the great reads this year.  To everyone who’s commented at Winnipeg O’ My Heart, I appreciate your thoughts, suggestions, and ideas. You’ve all provided an excellent orientation to this fine city.  I wish you all a happy, healthy, and prosperous 2010!

Giant vat o' prunes

As the descendant of almost entirely British Isles stock, I’ve always felt a bit, well, culture-less. The Christmas and New Year’s traditions of French-Canadians, the Passover rituals of Judaism, and the immense pride of anyone with an ounce of Scottish ancestry have been a source of fascination and, to be honest, envy for me.

While I love my own family’s unique traditions (a jar of olives in my Christmas stocking = awesome!), none of them particularly connect me to a greater cultural group, and this has always been a bit regrettable for me.  That’s why I find it so enjoyable to participate in others’ traditions, and a couple weeks ago, I had just this opportunity!

Like all provinces, Manitoba has lots of ethnic and cultural groups, and the Icelandic are one of them.  Lucky for me, my husband’s aunt happens to be Icelandic, and around this time every year, she rounds up whoever’s interested to have a vinetarte-making marathon. I don’t think I’d ever heard about this layered prune dessert until I moved to Manitoba, and if you’ve never heard of it, you’re probably thinking, “Hmmm, that sounds… appetizing.” Trust me, it tastes better than it sounds! Part of the appeal of the dessert is in the making: with five (or seven, depending on who you ask) thin layers of dough, these little cakes are simple to make but require time and patience. Vinetarte is not overly sweet, so you can eat a lot of it in one sitting. If that’s not the sign of a great dessert, I don’t know what is.

Rolling the dough

My sister-in-law and I arrived at Chez Vinetarte at 10am and spent the day mixing and rolling out the dough (getting the dough to the perfect consistency is a true art, I learned) and cutting out round layer after round layer. Our recipe was adapted from a Riverton Hnausa Lutheran Church cookbook that’s about two decades old. I learned lots of tips and tricks along the way (Costco is the best place to buy pitted prunes, and you have to poke the layers with a fork before they go into the oven or else they’ll bubble up like crazy) and am already looking forward to next year’s marathon.

By 5pm, our team of five had made almost 40 cakes, which would be divided up between us and stored in our freezers for the coming year. One will go home to Alberta with me at Christmas, to my mum who loves a good vinetarte and remembers them fondly from her Winnipeg days.

Like most ethnic specialties, vinetarte is not without its controversies. Five layers or seven? Iced, or not? Sprinkles on top of the icing, or not? No matter which options you go for, the result is delicious, and partaking of it is one of my favourite ways to enjoy another culture. (And hey, Winnipeg Cat loves it, too.)

Are you a vinetarte fan? Any recommendations on where people can buy one pre-made?

The saucepan lid as cutting device

Layers galore!

One layer prunified

The finished product

The City of Winnipeg has a survey open from November 16 to 30th, seeking feedback on the city’s blue box recycling program. When I first saw the news item about the survey and open houses, I had the impression that it was only looking for comments on the proposed automated bins. Happily, the survey asks much more, including:

• How your household uses the blue box system
• What you like and don’t like about it
• How much you currently recycle
• What would make you increase your recycling
• What you think of the proposed bins (pictured) and whether you would use them
• Whether you support other curbside recycling initiatives (composting/”household organic”)
• Whether/how much you’d be willing to pay for household organic recycling

There are also several places where you can leave general comments about the system. I gladly took the opportunity to tell the city how much I appreciate our current system, and my suggestions for improving recycling for apartment dwellers, and of course, my thoughts on beverage container recycling. (Shoot! I forgot to mention how much I love that “garbage day” is now called “recycling day”!)

Take the survey here: http://guest.cvent.com/SURVEYS/Welcome.aspx?s=888e2273-6322-46eb-a8bc-27174377945a and I’d love to hear your thoughts on recycling in Winnipeg by commenting on this post.

…the post where I talk about what I don’t like about Winnipeg. Bet you thought this day would never come!

What’s been bugging me about Winnipeg lately is, well, downtown Winnipeg. Every weekday, I walk a couple blocks from my office to Portage & Donald to catch the bus home. Sometimes I have an appointment or something to do at lunch that keeps me downtown, so I’ve done a fair amount of jamming up and down Portage during the noon hour. Occasionally, I have met up with friends for after-work drinks at Tavern United or in the Exchange, but between that and my daytime adventures, that’s about the extent of my time spent downtown. And truth be told, that’s about enough for me.

So, what’s my beef with downtown?

This will seem like an exaggeration, but some days, it seems like the only people I see outside when I’m downtown are people smoking, people spitting, and people panhandling. In short, people who are not all that pleasant to be around. We all know that tons of people work downtown in jobs that require them to dress somewhat nicely and bathe regularly, so where are they? I figured it out not too long ago: they’re inside. If not in their offices, they’re in the walkway system staying warm, and well, avoiding the aforementioned people outside.

Can I blame them? No. When I have occasion to walk from my office to Portage and Main for lunch meetings, and I almost always walk inside. I should also disclose that I often head into CityPlace and then through the MTS Centre even when I’m just walking my regular route to the bus. This is partly because I think taking the walkway is fun – I thought the same of the Plus 15 system in Calgary and the massive, interconnected mall/office towers/transit station system where I worked in Vancouver. There’s something inherently neat about travelling a long distance without ever going outside (to an extent, anyway — think Waydowntown). But it’s also because even though walking through the MTS Centre takes longer than walking outside, some days, I just really don’t feel like sidestepping puddles of spit and listening to people yell at each other.

Winnipeg’s walkway system probably evolved more in response to our chilly winters than anything, but even when the weather is just right, people are still inside. Summer is a bit better: live music in the fresh air brings lots of people outside to eat lunch in the sunshine. But I wonder. Do we really need to hibernate for 8 or 9 months of the year? What else is going on here?

Despite efforts to spice up its image, downtown also just seems a bit sad. To me, the epitome of this is The Bay. Have you been to The Bay downtown? Structurally, it’s amazing. Stately pillars. Mile-high ceilings. Hardwood floors. The ladies’ bathroom is a snapshot in time: there are banks of little vanities where you can actually sit down on a chair, place your purse on the counter, and fix your hair or lipstick. It’s the sort of thing you’d expect to see in a film set, not in modern day. It’s wonderful. And yet, the store is run down. There seems to be no sense of pride in the gem we have on our hands. (And I was really surprised to see it made the Sun’s list of 100 reasons to love Winnipeg.) This Bay doesn’t seem to be given as much attention as the ones in the malls. That being said, my experiences with the Bay in most cities is not what it used to be.

We have such an iconic, historic building that houses an equally meaningful institution. Maybe I’m nostalgic for the good old days I was never a part of, but it seems like a tragedy to me not to restore it to its former self. But of course, it’s not just The Bay. There are dozens of gorgeous buildings in downtown Winnipeg, but so many of them have been left to age and decay. Downtown Winnipeg could have such a cosmopolitan feel to it.

But then, if no one shops downtown, why would anyone bother investing in restoring these old beauties or in opening new businesses in the area? I’m with Graham at Progressive Winnipeg when he wonders why “every major development that is announced here, isn’t downtown”. I mean, there’s only one MEC in the city, and people make the trip downtown to go there. I don’t pretend to know enough about urban planning to say that if you build it, they will come, but, well, I think if the destination store is attractive enough, they will come. This is probably completely unrealistic (because where, oh where on earth would everyone park?), but what if they’d decided to put Ikea downtown? Can you imagine the draw that would have been?

Why don’t people spend much time outside in downtown Winnipeg? My guesses are that they associate downtown with crime and with feeling unsafe, and that moreover, there’s not much to draw them there. Halfway through writing this, I came across this post from Slurpees & Murder, which takes a look at the MTS Centre and vicinity and asks “Would you put your team here?” The photos and commentary in the post are a grim but realistic illustration of downtown.

Now, this wouldn’t be a Winnipeg O’ My Heart post if I didn’t try to look on the positive side of all of this. To me, some progress is being made. The recent announcement about the Union Bank Tower being converted into the RRC culinary arts centre and student residences is wonderful news. More people will inevitably mean a bigger market for all sorts of business; starving as they may be, students always have money for coffee, clothing, and nightlife. And it’s nice to see some care being given to the Metropolitan Theatre – it will be interesting to see what the final product will be. Things are picking up in the Exchange; it seems new stores and restaurants are popping up down there all the time.

I haven’t lived in Winnipeg long enough to feel particularly qualified to comment on city politics or planning. All I know is what my experiences have been in other major cities, and what works for them. In Calgary, downtown’s Stephen Avenue is a bustling strip of bars and restaurants and adjacent shopping that is extremely active – even after work and on weekends. In Vancouver, Robson Street is much the same: truly convenient public transport and tons of nearby residences makes it easy to get to, and the variety of stores and restaurants make it a popular destination. Perhaps more importantly, pretty much all of downtown Vancouver feels safe. This is in large part, as former WoMH’er Laurel pointed out, because there are always people around. But I just don’t see how downtown, in its current state, can attract more people than it does now.

So I will watch with great interest at the developments occurring in Winnipeg’s downtown over the next few years. I will commit to exploring downtown a little more often, and to try to look bright side of things. It won’t be easy, though. I’m hard-pressed to think of anything I actually like about downtown (well, The Forks is pretty nice), but I’m open to suggestions. Anyone? Anyone?