Anyone lived in a pretty how town...

When I was first asked to do a post about my town for Blogtrotting, I was a little chagrined. I could not for the life of me think of what to write about this tiny village I call home. Yes, village. It's too small to even be considered a town. Population? 350.

Mhmm. You heard me.

After putting a lot of thought into it, (and a little research), I realized that my little village has a rich history. And while it might not seem like much now, it was a pretty bangin' place to live back in the day. Literally. But, I will get back to that.

First I would like to tell show you a little bit about the province of Manitoba, because it has a little bit of everything. White sand beaches, a desert, polar bears, prairies, panoramic skies, massive freshwater lakes, boreal forests, a little bit of (really COLD) ocean and its own little corner of the Great Canadian Shield.

 

Grand Beach, Manitoba.

 

You'd find these guys up near Churchill, Manitoba.

Hudson's Bay. Brrrr.

 

 A familiar sight around here.

 

The Spirit Sands. Carberry, Manitoba.

  

Westhawk Lake. Made by a meteor, deep as heck.

My little village is in the South East of Manitoba. It is situated near some very prime farm land, and plopped on top of a huge deposit of dolomite limestone.

 

That big red dot makes it look bigger than it is.

In fact, that limestone is the reason there is a village here at all. It's top grade, and has been used in the construction of buildings all over North America. If you live in Omaha, Nebraska...or Houston, Texas...or Butte, Montana, or Ottawa, Ontario (to name a few) there is a little bit of my home tucked into a building near you.

A long, long time ago, most of Manitoba was covered in a massive lake called Lake Agassiz.

The limestone (called Tyndall Stone because, though it was blasted out of the ground in Garson, it was shipped over to the town of Tyndall before it could make its way to bigger and better places) is what is left of all the little creatures that once swam around in said lake. And, the fossils are fabulous. I spent many a day fossil hunting as a child, and still look for them to this day. You would, too. They are everywhere.

 

 

Back in the main quarrying days, this place was boomin'. But, there isn't much to do in this village these days unless you like a) fossil hunting, b) going for long walks or c) eating. Garson boasts 2 service stations, a hotel watering hole, a post office, a small grocery store, a gas bar and a restaurant. The grocery store, post office, gas bar and restaurant are all in the same building. *grin*

If you ever do make it to my neck of the woods, be sure to check out The Harvest Moon Cafe, though. You won't be sorry. World renowned for its self described "sarcastic waitering" and amazing food (cooked by an array of stellar staff, headed by 5 star chef Andrew Strong), it's worth a visit. The atmosphere is second to none. I mean, where else could you find a 5 star restaurant with a "farmer table"? Yes,  you heard me. A farmer table. At which the farmers sit in boots and coveralls, eat their toast and jam, drink their coffee and talk of seeding while the people at the next table eat this:

 

or this:

It's wonderful, and truly unique. Make sure you thoroughly check out the decor, too. There are beautiful, hand carved masterpieces all over the walls made by Sheila Grycki (the restaurant owner herself) and a hand painted mural on the back wall. Clicky-clicky to enlarge.

 

  

 

And, whatever you do, don't anger the waitstaff. 

 

 C'mon. I dare you.

All in all, I know Garson doesn't seem like much, but it's home. People here stop and ask if you want a ride when they see you walking. And, they're not even creepers! There are deer and bears and bunnies in the back yard! Even if it IS cold enough to freeze a witch's tit here for 7 out of 12 months, there aren't really many places I would rather be.

Because there is this out the front window:

In the winter, everything is the same color.

And these, if you are willing to look more closely:

 

And, a whole lot of this:

What more could a girl ask for?

I hope you enjoyed your tour, blogtrotters. If you ever do find your way here, let me know and I'll take you fossil hunting. I know allll the best spots.

I leave you with this (because I've always loved it, and it seems fitting somehow):

anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn’t he danced his did.

Women and men (both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn’t they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed (but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that no one loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone’s any was all to her

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then) they
said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess
(and no one stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
no one and anyone earth by april
with by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men (both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain

ee cummings