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Ontari-ar-i-o
Clever old us, we thought leaving Winnipeg bright and early on a Sunday morning would be pretty simple, but we ran into miles of police tape and traffic redirections – nothing that got in our way – because of the Manitoba Marathon.
We drove along for a while, rain and shine,
bought some fruit (California, not BC)
and saw ourselves
and then were welcomed to Ontario
where the landscape is thick with inukshuk, some say erected by hitchhikers, which are also relatively numerous in these parts.
and then just a lot of northern Ontario scenery, as promised: rocks, trees, water (repeat):
We stopped for lunch and met a valiant dog (kept very busy guarding the place from birds and beavers, according to his owner) who kept a close eye on our rig
while we tucked into some excellent pirogies (hand-made by a local Ukranian woman) for lunch.
And passed many such moose signs,
as well as 3 live and 2 dead ones, and other sobering sights.
And finally rolled into Thunder Bay safe and sound about 11 hours after starting. We had a little ramble along the industrial strip in search of food, to provision ourselves for the next leg. This venture raised some interesting questions, like what was the yellow scum round the edge of all the puddles?
We gave up on that one, and it all ended with a splendid feed.
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Pegged
Saskatoon to Winnipeg today, via Regina. We didn’t stop much: half an hour for coffee in Brandon was our limit, as we had a goal in mind.
Our day in Saskatoon yesterday was excellent for rest and visits. The weather was warm and the trees in leaf. Unfortunately, the trees often look like this in a prairie spring
and this would be why…
Brunch at the Broadway Cafe with Mari-Lou and Albert was for me a welcome ham and cheddar omelette with nice home fries and good coffee.
Supper at Prairie Ink, in McNally Robinson‘s splendid store, with Mary included her chicken salad with pineapple,
my cream of asparagus soup
some Jerry’s ice cream
and the amazing flowering tea. Followed by some brisk book shopping.
We left this morning in a Saskatoon drizzle
but the light was fabulous
the grain elevators occasional
and only a single teapot on the road.
We crossed into Manitoba which can be very flat indeed.
We were puzzled by a field of hay (in bales) that went on
and on and on and on. Anyone out there know what this was?
But finally, after 10 hours’ driving, we reached Winnipeg and had time to check into the hotel, clean ourselves up and scamper down to Dubrovnik, where the menu is pretty swish-standard Canadian, but the quality is exceedingly good, as is the service. We started with an amuse-bouche of seared tuna
and then had Mesclun Greens with goat cheese and fresh raspberries and blueberries,
Ruth opting for escargot with strips of fried portabella mushrooms
followed by poached sea bass with mango chutney
while I had free-range chicken (I hate to ask how free that might really be in a Manitoba winter) with duck mousse and dried cranberry stuffing,
surrounded by lots of interesting vegetables and hiding a nice peppery portion of scalloped potatoes. We couldn’t manage dessert, although it looked pretty good, and left without allowing our photographs to join the rogue’s gallery of celebrity patrons (Pierre Trudeau, Bill Clinton, Richard Gere, Zsa-Zsa Gabor and all that riff-raff).
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Toonie time
Due to some unfortunate early morning coincidence, we both woke up a couple of hours before the alarm went off yesterday, and then decided to get an early start, so left Hinton on a gorgeous sunny morning at 7am,
and promptly blew our advantage by lingering over a couple of poached eggs and some salty spuds at a caff in Evansburg.
Richard, our navigator, contemplates the jam selection.
The rest of the day was just drive drive drive.
Saw some deer, but they all stayed off the road.
Decided not to go shopping.
And we got to Saskatoon about 11 and a half hours after we started.On the way, of course we saw some grain elevators. Here is a mother feeding its young.
In olden times, the young were the same boxy shape as their folks, with the same woody complexion, and grew up sporting the names of their towns or sometimes interesting bible quotations on their sides.
Nowadays the young take after their parents who are rounder and harder and less interesting, and who have sought corporate sponsorship (much like today’s humans who prefer designer logos I suppose) so you can no longer see where you are from a friendly landmark.
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In her latest collection, Rhona McAdam navigates the dark places of human movement through the earth and the exquisite intricacies lingering in backyard gardens and farmlands populated by insects and pollinators, all the while returning to the body, to the tune of staccato beats and the newly discovered symmetries within the human heart.
“…A beautiful, filling collection, Larder is a set of poems to read at the change of the seasons, to appreciate alongside a good meal, and to remind yourself of the beauty in everything, even the things you may not appreciate before opening McAdam’s collection….”
Rhona McAdam is a writer, poet, editor, and Registered Holistic Nutritionist with a Master’s in Food Culture from Italy and a deep-rooted passion for ecology and urban agriculture. Her work spans corporate and technical writing to poetry and creative nonfiction, often exploring the vital links between what we eat and how we live. Based in Victoria, BC, and available via Zoom, Rhona is always open to new writing commissions, readings, or workshops on nutrition and the culinary arts.
