Throwing all of my recycling into my blue box. In Burnaby, I have to separate my newsprint from my mixed paper. I also can't recycle milk cartons or tetra paks. Simple is the way to go. In Winnipeg, you just throw it all in, baby. (Whether or not any of it actually gets recycled, we're not sure about).
The Mexican Breakfast at Stella's. Nothing like it.
Lots of free parking.
Cheap paid parking. I don't think I'll ever complain about paying for parking again.
Shopping at The Bulk Barn.
Biking with the girls without having to regularly stop and walk our bikes up steep hills.
The change of seasons. On the Prairies, you know when winter has arrived. Oh, you know. Likewise with spring. There is nothing like the first real day of a prairie spring. It's as though you can hear the whole city collectively breathing a huge sigh of relief and thankfulness. Here on the West Coast, one season melts into another with great subtlety.
Lots of sunshine.
Really hot beach days. You know the days I'm talking about. The ones where it's so hot you can hardly breathe. You don't get those here. It's too moderate a climate.
The Winnipeg Folk Festival. There's nothing like it.
Cheering in earnest for the Winnipeg Jets with a bunch of crazed hockey fans still reveling in the glory of getting their team back.
Curries of all types and colors at Siam Thai.
A Chicken pita at Nico's.
Spenst Brothers hamburger patties.
(yes, I like food)
Wiener roasts with good friends at St. Vital Park on summer days that seem to go on forever.
The Winnipeg Free Press. The Vancouver Sun has got nothing on the 'freep.
Having neighbors I can borrow an egg from any time. Or if I have a hankering for chip dip with onion soup mix and sour cream but have no sour cream, I can run over for an emergency supply of that too.