ye olde

the Vassar.
also known as Vassar. small town. and in my professional opinion, it is about as small as they come, and still decreasing in size. (that is, all except for one very rowdy weekend once every year where people celebrate when beer and baseball procreated, and thus Li'l Baby Beer Gardens was born... (but that is a story for another time, children)
this town is tucked away behind a load of trees and snowmobile trails down in one corner of manitoba. It has three streets, appropriately nicknamed by Nessa and myself as Higgins, Portage, and Main... ykno, so that we feel a little bit closer to home. There is a general store, owned and operated entirely by one man. I am not quite sure of my relation to him, although I have a feeling that it is through "family". I have never witnessed this character anywhere other than behind the counter at this store. In front of it are two old-school gas pumps that has evidence of probably worked (once upon a time); scientists estimate that it was somewhere around the Mesozoic period. No one can be sure.

The store closes early. So buy your cigarettes before supper. The church has its doors open to the public for more hours a day than ye olde general store does, it seems to me. I couldn't tell you how late the church is open. There is an eerie-ness about wandering the almost-vacant town at night, when you can hear the electricity crackle and pop as it zips through the telephone wires over-head, and the only thing you pass is a cemetary and a few stray dogs when on route to the church. So no, I haven't personally checked what time the doors of Vassar church is open until at night.

[Without exaggerating too much...]
it is my guess that of the 14 houses standing on each of the three streets, only 11 are occupied. The town residents get older, and anyone who was then considered of younger generation have had little poop machines of their own (x3) in larger neighboring towns.
A sad, yet tragic, yet somehow beautiful thing I find about the Vassar, is it's impending ghost town status. And I will miss it. As eerie as it seems to my pansy-ass self at times, i fucking love this place. A lot of warm and cozy and family-oriented memories were created here. And lots of turkey dinners, complete with mashed potatoes. O, and the jello.

That with that being said, Vassar is where I spent my Christmas, like how I always spend it. With two floors full of french-accented men and women that I call my family. Lots of wrapping paper, chocolates, and camera flashes (as always), and hugs and warm wishes. That is the one thing I like about Christmas. But if you ask me, I would enjoy it anytime of the year that this could happen. It is not exclusive to the 25th of December. And neither Thanksgiving and Easter, for that matter.
Therefore, I still am not the biggest fan of christmas. And I just rationalized the only part of the holiday that I actually enjoy. So take that!

New years is approaching just as quickly as xmas. ....or any other single day of the year, really. We're thinking that maybe the renting of a hotel room is in the works. Fuck cover charges to bars and events. A house party is what I would really enjoy, but I haven't got my eyes on any of those, this time around. We shall see.
Perhaps what you folks need is a good dose of a few pages of ye olde sketchbook.
Ye olde, again???? I'll ye olde everything, gawddamnit! Justyou watch!