Naughty or nice

Tonight, we were invited by friends Tate and Christina to celebrate the European Christmas tradition of Sankt Nikolaus Day; a holiday celebrated on December 6th in Christina’s home country of Liechtenstein. The small Principality of Liechtenstein lies on the border of Switzerland and Austria. On this day, Sankt Nikolaus and his trusty helper, Knecht Ruprecht (Black Peter), go from house to house and check with everyone to see if they were naughty or nice. The nice boys and girls get a gift. However, the naughty ones are stuffed into Knecht Ruprecht's bag and whisked off, never to be seen again. So, we dared to join in this European tradition complete with holiday cookies and cheer, but I suggested taking two cars as anyone who knows the Fly Guy knows he is naughty. Very naughty. So, he would absolutely be taken away by Knecht Ruprecht. Then, on second thought I decided maybe I would go home with Knecht Ruprecht. Especially once I learned his captives were taken to Spain! At that point, I was volunteering to get in the sack. Plus, that German accent. The devil in his eye. Afterall, isn't every girl secretly attracted to the bad boy?! Oh, Knecht!

Sn-oh, oh!

As it rarely snows in Victoria, I absolutely LOVE it when it does. You know that it is short lived so you can truly revel in the novelty. The kids go wild as if candy is falling from the sky and everything shuts down... which I still haven’t gotten used to coming from the hinterlands of Winnipeg where you walk up hill to school both ways. I awoke Saturday morning to find it snowing and ran to the window like a child on Christmas morning. The first thing I always do when it snows is call my mom to report that it has snowed. Now that I think about it this practice is ridiculous as she practically lives in an igloo in Northwestern Ontario so snow is a belaboured point. But, she always responds with genuine excitement as only a mother can as if the snow somehow brings us closer. Now here it is December and due to no fault of our own, we still have a boat in the water at Lake Cowichan. So, when the rain quickly overtook the snow we scheduled Sunday as the day to finally pull it out not knowing that everywhere EXCEPT Victoria had been hit by snow. By time we got to Cowichan we were in the midst of a snowstorm and there was a foot and a half of snow. It was beautiful and the snowflakes were the biggest I’ve ever seen! I couldn’t help sticking my tongue out to catch them and... calling my mom. Oh, and needless to say… the boat is still in the water.

Got elfed

I have consciously made the decision not to post photos of my family (or any real recognizable photos of myself for that matter) on this blog. As this was my little project, not their's, I didn't think it fair that they have their image splashed across the internet without their control. I don't really know what I was worried about however since only a handful of people read this blog and you all know what we look like! Anyway, I've decided to make an exception and post the following little video. Why now? This is called revenge. Against the video's creators. You've probably seen a version of this "craze" making the rounds this holiday season, but if not here is a little ditty created by my Fly Guy and his accomplice, the Fly Girl. The cropped photos are so bad you can't really tell who we are anyway. Special thanks to my supportive stage mother who pointed out that I'm the worst dancer. Me? I think the chunk missing out of the Fly Girl's head is a nice touch. Watch for the world tour coming to a city near you... Enjoy!

Somewhere over the rainbow

Today I saw the most amazing rainbow while walking to work. It was a full arch that reached from one side of the city to the other. I can't remember the last time I have seen a rainbow like this? If you have ever been to Ireland you know that every other postcard depicts a rainbow smiling over the picturesque countryside. When I first arrived in the country and noticed this I thought it was cheesy, but after spending several weeks there one November I quickly realized this wasn't a bad marketing ploy, but rather what Ireland truly looked like. Anyone who knows me knows that I am very superstitious and I will stop traffic to pick up a lucky penny off the street. But, do you think I could remember what I was supposed to do when I saw the rainbow this morning. Wish on it? Jump through it? Kiss a leprechaun? I quickly made a wish just to be on the safe side. Whatever the case, I knew that it was lucky and I continued my walk with a big smile on my face looking forward to what the day would bring. Turns out the day brought rain. Go figure. But, I don't mind. It will be good for the roses next time I stop to smell them.

Wine and cheese

We ended the week in Whistler with a little work and wine. After a meeting of the minds, we attended Whistler’s wine and food festival, Cornucopia. Unfortunately, the infamous annual party at Barefoot Bistro that has become synonymous with the festival wasn’t staged this year, but there were still a few highlights. Glue guns and glitter… need I say more? Each of my female colleagues became one with their inner Martha while creating a headdress at the craft table that was both personal and unique. Not one, but two free lip gloss with Yellowglen’s Yellow and Pink sparkling wine. Bear corner, “C”evin the Cougar and Georgi the kitten. “I’ve got enough blow to tranquilize this town,” overheard in the women’s bathroom at Garfunkel’s. And last, but certainly not least… Bobby James. The guys get bodypainted girls and the Burlesque Beauties and we get "Ricky Bobby?!" Think poor man’s Tommy Lee with red satin shorts, red headband, white hightops, no shirt, tattoos and a drum set. Apparently Bobby believes it is a talent to play the drums while accompanying dance music. Apparently Bobby has been spending too much time living in his parent’s basement. Playing the bongos so hard you go cross-eyed and then bending over to yell in the knee-high microphone, “How does that shit sound out there?!” does not a talent make. It sounds as bad out here as it does up there, Bobby. I need another glass of wine.

There's no place like home

They say you can never go home again. That may be true, but you can certainly visit. From Winnipeg, we continued our nostalgic tour across the border into Ontario to visit my parents. The flat Prairie fields and open skies gave way to a slice of Canadian Shield filled with thousands of lakes, rivers and trees. Oh, and deer. Lots of deer. This was my fly guy’s first visit to my hometown so he was introduced to a number of elements unique to the Northwest. The distinctive smell of Dryden’s pulp and paper mill. Max the Moose. The Brute (a ham or salami sandwich on a full loaf of cheese and onion bread) at Kupper’s Bakery; the first place I ever worked. The arena where Chris Pronger grew up playing hockey. Shed antlers. Everything he never wanted to know about hunting. And yes, even a couple of baby photos of his hometown honey. A winter visit wouldn’t be complete without a few snow flurries, especially since this was a surrogate Christmas visit, but the scented candles, home cooking and mom and dad’s hospitality kept us warm. We may constantly travel the world, but home is where the heart is.

I’ll show you mine, if you show me your’s

Last weekend, my fly guy and I travelled home to Winnipeg to attend a friend’s wedding. It had been two years since my last visit and for argument’s sake, 20 years since he had spent any real time in the city. Other than being greeted by green grass in November, “Winter-peg” hadn’t changed all that much. We enjoyed touring through nostalgia as we proudly showed each other our past homes, schools and stomping grounds. Or, as my mother so eloquently put it, “Did you show him where you used to get hammered every Thursday night?” I did pound back a few rye and coke at the wedding reception. I mean c’mon, when in Rome. But, surprisingly to no avail. That definitely would not have happened a decade ago. Another noticeable and noteable change was the new Esplanade Riel Pedestrian Bridge from The Forks to St. Boniface with, of all things, a Salisbury House smack in the middle of it. How Winnipeg… Nip, anyone? The wedding was… perfect. A harvest wedding complete with sunflowers, sheafs of wheat, perogies (this is Ukranian Manitoba afterall) and a room full of people who are the salt of the earth. For that matter, a city full. One thing for sure about Winnipeg, the warmth of our Prairie family and friends will never change.