Of Donkeys and Gingerbread Men

 

 

I marked this New Year in the best way possible this year. I spent it with friends both old and new in the rustic setting of a straw bale house near Turtle Mountain provincial park. I couldn’t have imagined a more perfect setting. The year 2006 was the best year I have had in a long time, (I bought a kayak! I went to China! I joined a dragon-boating team and made some great new friends!), and so I was a little reluctant to let the year go. Luckily, this setting afforded me the opportunity to ring out the old year and ring in the new as easily as possible. 

 

On Saturday morning I picked up J&G. J was in the back seat surrounded by by a mountain of winter clothing, copious amounts of food and booze, skis, poles and stringed instuments that never made it out of their cases, G then placed a platter of tinfoil-tented dainties unceremoniously on top of her. After complaints of "Do we have to take these?" and "Do I have to carry these all the way?" we decided to store the goodies under the passenger seat. An hour into the journey after the dainties were forgotten and the seat heater was at full force someone exclaimed "I smell gingerbread…mmm!" My car was like a travelling pot-pourri. We prayed for snow on the drive out and at the half-way point we got our wish. Big fluffy flakes of the white stuff fell all around making the surrounding countryside even more beautiful.

 

When we arrived our friend M, who had driven out the day before, had promised to greet us with a roaring fire. The fire was roaring but there was no M. We stood around the car for a few moments wondering where we should go when out of the blue (or white) came a yeti-like creature. M appeared covered in snow and a little chagrined that she had gone out wandering and gotten a little lost. No worries, after unpacking and spending some time warming by the fire we were ready to go out again, this time armed with a navigational aid.

 

M had brought a GPS and some downloaded co-ordinates for geocaches in the surrounding area and thus I was introduced to the sport of geocaching. Oh…my…gawd…I loved it! A combination of treasure-hunting, orienteering and just plain stumbling about, my geeky senses were tingling. We were unsuccessful at our first attempt, after finding the correct co-ordinates but not the cache itself. Our second attempt proved fruitful and we performed the geocache etiquette…take something/leave something in the cache. We took a spy ear (more geekiness, I could hardly stand it) and, due to the lack of anything else to leave, we left a nickel. We then coined (pun intended) a new name for ourselves…The Beaverleavers. I think it was just a way for us to feel a little less chintzy about the measly nickel we left behind.

 

We returned from our tromping around, and M made a fantastic Indonesian feast for our dinner while the rest of us well, rested. Much of my down time was spent noodling with my New York Times electronic crossword puzzle, a Christmas gift from a thoughtful friend. It holds one thousand puzzles, eat your heart out Sue! After our delicious dinner we played some crazy two-way crib board game (I lost again, what is up with that?!).  After the game some went to bed and others stayed up and talked deep into the night.

 

Due to staying up late the night before we were a little tuckered out for the actual Eve but we soldiered on and went skiing. Cross country skiing (in my case trudging) was lovely in the new-fallen snow. At the halfway point where we stopped for a rest I made what seemed like a two foot deep snow-angel, one foot of depth made by falling and flailing in the snow and my body heat  just melted the rest. The Eve itself consisted of sushi and saki, music and conversation and ended with wishes and woes wafting up through the chimney pipe to be dispersed in the cold night air…poetic, no? Midnight was the usual fumbling around giving hugs and kisses. I clashed faces with one and stepped on the toes of another but at least I didn’t spit out a mouthful of champagne like one of us just before performing the obligatory display of affection. Awkward!

 

All too soon, New Years Day came and we had to say goodbye to the Straw Bale House and the animals that inhabit the surrounding farm. After escorting M with her small car through the deep snow ruts to the main highway, we took a leisurely route home that wound through some of  Manitoba’s most picturesque farmland. We stopped for an impromptu lunch of left-over sushi and lime tortilla chips ( I know…eew!) beside the wind generators in St. Leon. We made it home late on New Years Day and realized that our praying for snow had back-fired a little due to the fact we had to shovel our way into our respective homes. It was a small price to pay for a lovely weekend.

 

I took home one unshakeable truth from the weekend, and that is donkeys are the cutest animal ever!!! Like a child who wants a hamster, I must have a donkey and I might scream until I get one.