It took a bit of prompting the Friday before, but Laurel did finally agree to accompany me. I know that wacky excursions on early weekend mornings aren’t always popular, but I was armed with my grandma’s beet leaf borscht recipe and a burning desire to get cooking that afternoon. Thanks to the Vancouver-like weather we’ve had this summer, it was of course raining on our drive out to St. Norbert. Arriving at our destination we discovered you can either a) scour the streets for free parking, or b) simply drive into the big lot and pay $2 for a spot. We chose the easier and quicker option “b”.

As we exited the car a kind gentleman struck up a conversation with us (he noticed my out-of-province plates) by asking if we drove all the way from Alberta just for the farmers’ market. This devolved into a discussion of which grower offers the freshest chickens. He showed me his. I gagged internally as I haven’t eaten meat for 9 years. Dead birds in plastic bags aren’t my “thing”. It was charming, nonetheless. Manitobans are so kind and eager to strike up conversation! (at least, they are in farmers’ market parking lots)

After our experience with Winnipeg garage sales – and the lessons I supposedly learned about bargaining – I should have known better than to accept a first offer. One key ingredient for grandma’s borscht is fresh dill. I mean, a lot of fresh dill. When I saw a bunch of the stuff for $2 my initial reaction was “is this $2 day? A couple bucks for parking and now $2 for dill? Sweet!” I snapped it up quickly. However, by the time I was buying beets at the next stand I discovered a much finer, more full bunch of dill for $1.75. WHA-WHA-WHAT? By this point Laurel saw what was happening and began to help keep me calm.

As I was selecting hearty carrots at the next stall I noticed another ample bunch of dill…for $1.25! I ultimately broke down and bought it. In the end I used both bunches of dill in the borscht recipe (I doubled the instructions grandma gave me) and it was well worth it to have extra. The lesson I can impart with regard to farmers’ market shopping is that when you’re new to the game, always “do a lap” before you commit to a location. Check out the prices each vendor has set for their produce, and then make your choice from that point. Don’t jump the gun and prematurely purchase. Take your time and ease into the experience of shopping for farm fresh, local produce. It’s worth it!

Our tweets from the farmers’ market adventure:

Aaron: If the rain doesn’t stop the farmers and the Market, it can’t stop me! St. Norbert bound!

Aaron: Picking up @formerhasbeen for our adventure…hope she has her umbrella and her produce-picking hat on!

Laurel: Just got coffee with @directedreading, now off to the farmer’s market!

Aaron: It is raining less now! Had to pay 2 dollars for parking and just got advice on fresh chicken

Laurel: Ugh, just got dumped on by a tarp puddle.

Aaron: Mission accomplished! Green onions, dill, potatoes, carrots, beets…yum! Laurel got, um, soaked!

Laurel: Where were the eggs, St. Norbert farmer’s market?

Aaron: At Smitty’s for a post-Farmers Market breakfast…the special today is chocolate chip waffle; I heard “shellfish”waffle!

According to the St. Norbert Farmers’ Market website, this season is going to be their longest to-date, and they are open Saturdays from 8am – 3pm (June through to Halloween), and also on Wednesdays from 1pm – 7pm in July, August, and September only.

WO’MH-isms:

Fancy Place (from the post Roadtrippin’): A bar or pub that has more than one draught beer available. These are typically public houses in larger centres where beer drinkers enjoy selections beyond Coors Light. Ergo, if there’s only one type of beer on tap, it’s not a fancy place.

Manitoba street cred (from the post Curling): The valuating system by which new Winnipeggers (and in our cases, new Manitobans, too) are judged as integrating into the local culture. In joining a curling league, drinking slurpees in the wintertime, or apologizing to newcomers about the weather (despite the fact that you can’t control it), you raise your Manitoba street cred. You’re becoming an authentic Manitoban.

‘Pegiversary (from the post Roadtrippin’): The anniversary of a new Winnipeggers’ arrival in the city. Emma’s 1st ‘Pegiversary is quickly approaching on July 8th; for Aaron it will be January 5th, 2010; and Laurel just likes to celebrate hers on the 2nd of every month.

Social Time (a comment to the post Socials): Submitted by regular commenter, Michel, “Social Time is the acceptable time at which you should arrive at a social” and it directly correlates to the attendees’ age. The social arrival approximation scale is available in graph form, and strict adherence to these guidelines will prevent one from decreasing her or his Manitoba street cred.

Water-peg (from the post Water-peg): In the springtime, melting snow and swelling rivers transform Winnipeg into its always latent, ulterior character, Water-peg. The sidewalks are wet, the potholes are filled to the brim (and deceptively deep), and every story on CBC radio is somehow (magically?) spun to include a flooding-related angle.

Weatherpeg (a Winnipeg O’ My Heart post category): So much of Winnipeg’s mystique involves the extremes of weather at this geographic location of the continent. In this way, whenever a post includes significant content relating to the weather in Winnipeg, it will be categorized as a Weatherpeg post.

A sloppy Winnipeg Wrap

Winnipeg Wrap (from the post Wrap it Up): You know when people use lame clichés like: “If I opened the dictionary to the definition of goofball I’d see a picture of your face”? Well in this instance I will simply provide a visual example of the Winnipeg Wrap, and for a more detailed explanation you really should read all about it in the original post. Sadly (for fans of the Winnipeg Wrap), sightings of WWs around town reduce during warm seasons when it’s less likely that a Winnipegger will need an extension cord to plug-in the car while at work all day.

WO’MH-er (from the post Roadtrippin’): A Winnipegomyhearter is a member of the Winnipeg O’ My Heart blogging team. Although we haven’t yet invited guests to post their reflections about Winnipeg or Manitoba (we will), these persons would be considered honorary WO’MH-ers.

Terms unique to Winnipeg or Manitoba:

Caribou: The deliciously potent fortified wine that is intrinsically linked to the Festival du Voyageur. If you’re lucky enough to enjoy this drink at Festival, be sure to try it from an ice cup. We did. It’s a reeeeal good time.

Dainty: A small, sweet treat that is typically made in a large baking pan, then cut into squares or rectangles. In other parts of the country these are referred to as “squares”; however, in Manitoba the general term for a tray of assorted squares is “dainties”. When referencing a specific item on the tray, you should call the dainty by its appropriate name. Usage: “Just look at the fancy dainties at this bridal shower!” “I know…delish! I think I’ll have a Nanaimo bar.” A note about shape: in our limited experience, dainties are square; yet, we cannot corroborate that dainties are always square. This requires further (mmm…tasty) exploration.

Social: A traditional Manitoba fundraiser, usually held by friends (and sometimes family) of the engaged couple, meant to offset the costs of establishing a family home or farm. The social may have extended from this province into north-western Ontario and parts of Saskatchewan. “Classic” or “Traditional” socials feature a midnight buffet that always includes rye bread, cheddar cheese, and mustard (NB do not lick the knife). Some modern “Fancy” socials are catered, have professional DJs, and offer a combination of conventional auction items (the lottery tree) alongside new favourites (the spa package).

Social Table: So far as we can decipher, the rest of the country simply refers to this as a table with folding legs. These tables are aptly named according to their frequent use at socials held in community halls. The tables are rectangular in shape (probably 8’ x 3’?) and most likely either wood- or plastic-topped with folding metal legs. Usage: “I’m wondering if there’ll be enough seating at the social this Saturday.” “Oh yes, there will be. The hall provides 25 social tables.”

“LC”, the: An abbreviated slang term for the Manitoba Liquor Control Commission (MLCC). This phrase omits the “M” and last first “C” from the initialism (“LC” stands for “Liquor Commission”). Not to be confused with the initials of Lauren Conrad, star of the popular MTV show The Hills. She has probably never been to Winnipeg or Manitoba in general; what a pity. Usage: “I’m going to stop by the LC on the way home from work. Would you like anything?”

Of course this list is but the tip of an iceberg floating down the Red River following an ice jam breakup in April. Our goal is to keep the glossary updated with our own terms as well as those submitted by our readers. We surely welcome your feedback about our list and additions to what will become the Glossary of Terms Unique to Winnipeg or Manitoba. We appreciate attributions whenever they are available (in order that credit is given where due), and we also strongly discourage plagiarism. Let’s have some fun developing the glossary to define our shared Winnipeg and Manitoba experiences.

Please submit a comment to this post if you have a term to add. We are currently creating the glossary and will tweet (@winnipego) with a link once it’s up and running!

ALSO: Listen to CBC Manitoba Information Radio this upcoming Monday and Tuesday mornings (May 18 & 19, 2009) around 6:40AM (Central time) in order to hear the WO’MH blogging team in our very first discussions about blogging in Winnipeg and our distinct outlook on moving to this fair city from Vancouver. There is a link to live streaming of the broadcast on the CBC website, and we hope against all odds that our friends at Information Radio will consider podcasting these segments!

I grew up on the prairies so wasn’t too worried that my first Winnipeg winter would be a huge shock. I figured it would be a lot like southern Alberta, only without the Chinooks. And for the most part, my assessment was right. People were constantly asking me, with pity and a hint of glee,  “So, how’s your first Winnipeg winter coming along? Betcha didn’t expect it to be this cold!” Well, actually, the dry climate has taken some getting used to, but the cold was almost exactly what I was expecting.

What I was completely unprepared for, however, is the sheer amount of water that is involved in a Manitoba spring. They should just rename the season to “Flood”.  I lived in Vancouver for five years, so I know what rain and water in general are all about. But you haven’t seen water until you’ve seen 10 weeks’ worth of snow melt in the course of 48 hours. Roads are submerged, previously gravel parking pads turn to mud pits, and I think everyone I know got at least some water in their basement. And our curling club had one sheet damaged by water that snuck in

Most Canadians probably remember the “Flood of the Century” of 1997. I can still remember the television images of frantic, neverending sandbagging efforts. (Speaking of sandbagging, I loved the post “Love in the time of flooding” from the Don Street Blog.) And when I was tolerating windy springtimes growing up in Alberta, my grandma would call from her apartment on Pembina every week and tell us what the river was doing, namely, how high it was compared to last week, last month, last year.

But despite this, flooding wasn’t something that came to mind when I imagined what it would be like living in Winnipeg. Of course, they’re saying this year is almost as bad as ’97, so it’s definitely worse than most years, but still.  What I didn’t realise until just recently is that the areas alongside the Red River deal with flooding pretty much every year.

The other night, we walked down to the riverside in Glenelm and observed just how high and fast the water is.  It’s really quite remarkable. Until that point I’d only seen the swollen river from bridges and on TV. It amazed me that I could be living in the city, just a 10 minute walk from the river, and not be particularly affected by it. Meanwhile, barely outside the city, many people have voluntarily or otherwise evacuated, others rescued from their rooftops, still more determined stay in their homes as long as possible despite imminent flooding.

On the news, I keep hearing phrases like, “You can’t predict what Mother Nature will do.” “Mother Nature does as she pleases.” “We’re at the mercy of Mother Nature”. It seems to me an interesting juxtaposition of respect and surrender.  A fully acceptance that we humans are not in charge, but a plea, nevertheless, that we will somehow be spared.