When I jumped in my barely-functioning car and made the 25+ hour drive to Winnipeg approximately eight years ago, (alone save for a mannequin's head in the passenger seat next to me), I never expected that I would stay here for so long. Much to my surprise, however, seven years ago I met and eventually married a Winnipeg man who, like many born and bred Manitobans, stubbornly loves his province.
While there are people and cultural aspects of B.C that I still miss, Winnipeg, like the slow drip-drip-drip of her much anticipated spring, has grown on me: the roads pock-marked with pot-holes, the endless summer construction that seems conveniently designed to block any traffic from leaving the city, the neon-green worms that greet my hair as I brush past any tree, and likewise, the mosquitoes that arrive every evening now, expecting to be seated on my arm/leg/face/butt and have a meal at my expense. Oh, and Tim Horton's. The morning line-ups of Winnipeggers needing their fix; I am guilty.
One of the chapters in my graphic novel 'How I Contracted Hep C and Other Bedtime Stories' contains this road trip from my home province to the welcoming sign declaring that Winnipeg is truly, 'One Great City'.
Very rough draft of one of these pages. Enjoy!
