Snowflakes

Saturday mornings before our family would be off to the city for shopping my mom would meet her friends at the only restaurant in town. Halfway down main street a small building, faded siding and a small deck on the front with orange metal table and chairs. Cars and trucks parked on both sides of the street, bikes may on the grass beside the restaurant as many stopped in as routine for their daily dose of town gossip. I would usually go with my mom Saturday mornings for my Cinnamon bun and chocolate milk breakfast. I would sit there listening to the conversation, watching the other tables as the place filled up to capacity. I remember when coffee went up from $1 to $1.25, it was quite a commotion. I remember many family bike rides to the coffee shop for ice cream- half maple walnut and half cherry cheese cake in a dish. No cone for me.

The Pope family took over the restaurant and it was renamed Gordie's Eatery and Catering. The walls were painted and the floor replaced with yellow and blue tile. Saturday morning coffee continued and I sometimes went but my friends and I had our own coffee meeting time after school. We would try and sit at the table where there was a cut out into the kitchen where we could talk with Gordie and give him our orders through there. We had many favorites; he made the BEST poutine ever, whenever he had chicken lemon rice soup on the whole school came down at lunch. He would tell us the night before so we could be the first there. Chicken quessedilla were a top choice for me and the ultimate: Deep Fried Pickles. I know it sounds terrible but Dallas and I would devour these boiling hot, greasy, sticks of pickle coated in a batter dipped in the "special" sauce.

The restaurant got a slush puppie machine one summer which for a small town was the equivalent to a 7-11 Slurpee machine. The sweet/sour colored ice drinks were a favorite for all. Rainbow tongues and teeth appeared after you had one and if you had more then 2 blue slush puppies in one day your insides turned blue. If you bought a medium one you got a sucker to go with it. I don't know how my teeth didn't rot off that summer with my consumption of slush puppies and ice cream.

The coffee shop was were many plans were made and stories and secrets were told. It was not fine dining. It was small town burgers and fries, endless cups of coffee, gossip central. It closed a few years ago and is now the senior centre. Everytime I drive by I think back to all the laughs shared and memories made of growing up in a small town.

It was my second home, I could see the large grey Quonset shaped building from my bedroom window, the shingles needed replacing and a new paint job inside and out, the back door didn't really close or lock. It was not the prettiest building in the town, but when winter season came the town gathered nightly to drink coffee, visit and watch some hockey. Small towns in Saskatchewan are fueled by hockey, everyone ate, drank and slept hockey, everyone except for me.

I raced through my backyard everyday after school with my skate bag bouncing on the back of my legs as I ran to public skating on my lesson.s When I started skating there were at least 10 older girls who I looked up to and many other my age who I skated with. They quickly all quit to play girls hockey and it was Rachelle and I then just me...I wouldn't be trading in my pick and skirts for a stick and a puck. I was often the only figure skaters at public skating. It was dangerous avoiding pucks from the shiny game on the other side and as the game went on I had less and less ice.

Our rink had natural ice, it was hard and looked like glass, still wet from the Zamboni. I would skate over to the music room and play the newest cd I had bought. Stroking around the boards marked up fro pucks and age, the birds flew from rafter to rafter near the ceiling. The cold winter wind blew through the windows on the side. My hair flying behind me as I picked up speed. The sounds of my blades cutting into the ice was hypnotic and rhythmic. Seat would form on my forehead and neck and make my hair curly. I would breath in deep , the smell of the ice- my favorite smell, truly indescribable.

This old barn had so much character and brought me so much joy growing up. It was were I spent most of my free time in winter- a rink rat I called myself. It was falling apart as time went on, not beg enough for a tournament and natural ice made our season very short. The town finally raised enough money an now have a huge multi million dollar complex for skating curling, dance, bowling, the library etc. They turned the old rink into a horse riding arena. My skating career was done by the time they built the new rink but I taught other how to skate and have been to a few public skates. It is beautiful, great ice, well lit, better sound system but it is missing that smell...

Now when I look out my old bedroom window and see horses coming in and out of it I feel all these memories and moments of time spent in their on the ice. As I grew I learned many lessons inside those walls on and off the ice. I learned grace and power on the ice through my skating lessons. It is a passion that still burns inside me today, although I don't practice anymore whenever I get back on the ice that fire burns inside me to jump and spin. I founded many friendships, Rachelle and I spent many Monday and Thursday afternoons skating round and round together telling each other the highs and lows of our day, the ice was cathartic and the connection we built was strong. Many of my coaches were great role models and also good friends that I could go and talk to. The younger skaters that I taught all looked up to me on and off the ice and I felt pride at the end of the season when those who could not stand on their own where now the fastest in my group. I also made friendships off the ice with the caretakers. I was the official hot chocolate taster, and new 5cent candy eater. They were kind and generous to open the rink early when competition was getting close and always warned me about the cracks in the ice when March came around. I sometime had to stand up for myself and the use of the ice to those who thought figure skating was a waste of precious ice time. It was not always easy, but I knew in my heart that it was important to me and no one was going to take that away.

Growing up in a small town with the rink in my backyard and with my hockey loving dad and brothers it was no question that I was going to skate and that the rink would be a big part of my life. I was always the girly-girl so figure skating was natural for me before we had a dance club in Aberdeen. Today the rink in the winter is still a big part of my life as I teach skating and when I'm off watching Justin play hockey. Aberdeen's rink holds a special place in my heart and it holds a lot of special memories for many of the people that live in the town. No matter how amazing our new rink is with all its technology and glamour, the old cold barn behind my house will forever be the best rink ever.

I am a small town girl---Forever and Ever!

I have officially lived in "the city" aka Saskatoon for four months now. I loved being 10 minutes away from the University and the Tim Horton's just around the corner and the shopping malls, but as much as I love the connivance of living here, I don't love it.

Today I went on a biking adventure to the University to return a book to the library, drop off a parcel at Sears that was too big and relax at a coffee shop to write. This was my first big biking tour that went beyond the park beside our house. Biking in the city is WAY different when you have to deal with the traffic. I miss driving all over the road in my small town. Speaking of traffic that is one thing I really dislike about the city, the traffic noise. Sometimes at night I can hear the cars out on the streets and the big semis. Most of all I hate the smell that all the cars make, biking through the exhaust was disgusting. Where is my fresh town air? Well it wasn't always "fresh" especially when they were cleaning out the barns, secretly I don't mind that smell.

I'm still scared to venture very far from my home or to place I'm not familiar with alone. I want to go check out the trails along the river, I've never been on them. Saskatoon is really a beautiful city down by the river. I miss seeing the sunset and seeing the stars in the sky clearly. The buildings and city lights make these two things hard.

I remember biking out in Aberdeen and hearing the sounds of nature, the birds, crickets, the wind, but all I heard on my ride today was honking horns and reeving engines.

Overall the bike adventure was great, I checked out a new coffee shop that I want to go back to and spent a great afternoon enjoying the sun and getting some exercise. I hope that this summer I can go on more adventures with my bike and find new and exciting things about Saskatoon. Justin and I plan to move out of the Saskatoon to an acreage but I think our home will be Saskatoon for awhile so I should start acting like a "city gurl" but I will never forget my small town roots.