We’ve knocked three more items off our list since my last
update, which brings our current total to twelve. My hope is that whatever we
don’t manage to pull off this year will carry forward to next and we’ll have developed a new habit,
finally becoming a little less “recreationally challenged.” It’s only taken 40
years!
#29. Eat a Jimmy’s
Fat Boy. Anyone who lives in Portage la Prairie knows that Jimmy “the Greek”
Sarlas has been an icon for years, as has his establishment, Jimmy’s Submarine and Dairy Delight. But somehow Jon and I had never actually tried one of his
famous Fat Boys. Our grandsons’ visit seemed like the perfect opportunity to go
to Jimmy’s and not have to cook.
Jon and I shared a Double Fat Boy and an order of fries—basically
the equivalent of two burgers and two orders of fries anywhere else, and twice
as delicious. And messy. But, oh so tasty. Really, seriously, yummy. And not a
bad price, considering it’s all homemade. If I ate a Fat Boy every day, I wouldn’t
turn into a Boy, but that other thing? Definitely.
Jon and I didn’t smooch at Jimmy’s, but Keegan reminded me
later that while we’d sat in our booth, I’d given Rorin a little kiss on the top
of his head. “You kissed the wrong man,” Keegan said.
The man I kissed. |
#33. Pin the Tail
on the Bunny. Last summer when this list of 40 things was still a work in
progress, we invited our kids and grandkids to add to it. This one was Allistar’s
contribution. He’s a huge rabbit fan and has a pet one at home named Thumper.
Jon and I decided we’d feel a tad silly playing Pin the Tail on the Bunny by
ourselves unless, in Jon’s words, I was the bunny. This isn’t that sort of
blog.
So with the grandboys here, we colored a large Easter
bunny, stuck magnets to colored pompoms, took turns blindfolding and spinning each
other around for a rousing round. I came in dead last. Keegan’s was probably
the closest, but Grandpa claims Keegan cheated and used both hands. Competition
is fierce around here.
Allistar spins Rorin |
Final results |
#22. Go Somewhere
by Train. Because it sells out early, we booked tickets weeks ago for the
Mother’s Day ride on the Prairie Dog Central, pulled by a coal-fueled steam
engine over a century old. Departing from the old Inkster Station north of the
Winnipeg perimeter, the train took us north for about an hour at a speed of 15
miles per hour (it could go faster, we were told, but they want it to keep
working and there’s no place to buy parts!), and let us off in Grosse Isle.
There, vendors waited to meet our refreshment and crafting needs while “Fire
and Ice” provided live music. Museum buildings were free for the touring—an old
home, school, and church. Young passengers enjoyed a petting zoo and miniature train.
Jon chats with a train man |
As for me, I decided a new bauble to commemorate the day
was in order and found the perfect item from the lady selling jewelry: a little
pewter nest with three eggs to represent my three babies. I love it!
After 90 minutes, they called “All Aboard!” and we rode
back, this time on the tail end instead of the first car behind the engine. The
black coal smoke has quite the distinct odor that I’m sure triggers memories
for those old enough to remember. While my extroverted husband chatted with the
other passengers, I was content to sit quietly, imagining I was April or
Bernadette or Emmaleen—the main characters in my current novel in progress—traveling
in the style they would, right down to the pine wood interiors of the train
cars to the pot-bellied stove in each car—thankfully, not in use.
I’m so glad we went, and I recommend it for all ages. Of
course, it provided us with a new place to kiss—inside the train, as well as at
Grosse Isle. So we’re making good progress on the kissing list.
The unfinished jigsaw puzzle, however, is still sitting
there. I swear it scowls back at me every time I walk by.
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