1967 Spring and Summer
Our apartment lease was due to run out April 30, 1967 and so it was time to start looking. We liked the area where we were, and so during my afternoon walks I looked for "To Let" signs. There was a very impressive block, Crescent Court, on the corner of Wellington Crescent and ?? - even from the outside it looked like its apartments would be spacious, bright and airy. But there was no "To Let" sign on it.
Talking to Brent about it, he laughed. That, he said, in its heyday had about eighteen rooms, each with its own bathroom, some of which had gold-dipped faucets and fittings. Yes, it was once a busy place. And he laughed again. I did not catch on and he had to explain that it had been an upscale brothel in the past.
Dave Godfrey has an abstract and incomprehensible story that I love - The Hardheaded Collector. It is an elaborate metaphor looking at Canada in the centennial year of Confederation. Seven men start from Queen Charlotte Islands and move eastwards to work on a contract they have been given, and one drops off from the group in each province. The leader alone reaches the destination but he is told that the contract was valid only if all seven had reported for duty. At a metaphorical level, the idea is that a country whose parts do not work together cannot function. It is also about the rise of individualism and decline of the concept of collective good. The main features of each city they stop at are given - for Winnipeg it is mosquitoes and brothels, and the member who drops off in Winnipeg is delighted with the latter.
Speaking of some socialites and their pastimes, I soon found out that living on Wellington Crescent had its advantages. No one ever asked for an ID when we signed cheques that had our address on them - 608-250 Wellington Crescent - the name had its own status. However, a sociologist colleague who knew Winnipeg well told me that people of social standing lived west of Academy - those who lived east of Academy didn't count!
Talking to Brent about it, he laughed. That, he said, in its heyday had about eighteen rooms, each with its own bathroom, some of which had gold-dipped faucets and fittings. Yes, it was once a busy place. And he laughed again. I did not catch on and he had to explain that it had been an upscale brothel in the past.
Dave Godfrey has an abstract and incomprehensible story that I love - The Hardheaded Collector. It is an elaborate metaphor looking at Canada in the centennial year of Confederation. Seven men start from Queen Charlotte Islands and move eastwards to work on a contract they have been given, and one drops off from the group in each province. The leader alone reaches the destination but he is told that the contract was valid only if all seven had reported for duty. At a metaphorical level, the idea is that a country whose parts do not work together cannot function. It is also about the rise of individualism and decline of the concept of collective good. The main features of each city they stop at are given - for Winnipeg it is mosquitoes and brothels, and the member who drops off in Winnipeg is delighted with the latter.
Speaking of some socialites and their pastimes, I soon found out that living on Wellington Crescent had its advantages. No one ever asked for an ID when we signed cheques that had our address on them - 608-250 Wellington Crescent - the name had its own status. However, a sociologist colleague who knew Winnipeg well told me that people of social standing lived west of Academy - those who lived east of Academy didn't count!
One evening, when P and I were walking towards Stafford on Grosvenor, we saw a little girl holding her father's hand as they walked from Stafford. The doll-like loveliness of the girl attracted us and so did the To Let sign on the brick-front, well-elevated house into which they walked. We followed them and asked if we could see the apartment. That is how we met Mr. Steginus and Evelyn. Mr. Steginus was a cheerful man who spoke with a European accent. He explained that they lived downstairs and were renting out the upstairs.
We loved the suite - it had two large rooms with oversize windows in addition to the bedroom, bath and kitchen. The only problem was that there was a tub but no shower. While others might ooh and aah about a tub bath, we from India could not think of sitting in a tub of soapy water - we wanted a shower. We said we would take the apartment if he could put in a hand-shower and change the toilet. Mr. S. readily agreed and we were willing to pay towards it. I don't remember if he asked us to or not but that was the beginning of a long friendship. Maybe he increased the rent by a few dollars. We met Mrs. S. and their little toddler, Michael. He looked exactly like his dad and the girl looked exactly like her mom. We couldn't believe it when they told us one day that the children were adopted!!!
April 30 was moving day and also the day the mother of all snowstorms hit Winnipeg. However, we did not have much to move, having lived in a furnished apartment. The rent here was much lower - just $98 in contrast to the the $180 we had been paying - no wonder Brent thought we were maharajahs when we took the first apartment.
We were not sure we would be in Winnipeg for more than a short stay and so we bought used furniture. but of such good quality that now they are treasured antiques. Each piece has its own story. We went to an auction place and bought two absolutely beautiful matching dressers, with ornately shaped mirrors, for a bid of $25 for both pieces as I recall!! Next week we bought a Singer desktop sewing machine for $10 for no reason other than because it was exactly similar to my mother’s except that this had an electric treadle. Fifteen years later, my friend Prabha Huzurbazar persuaded me to buy a newer model of Singer and she chose it for me. I left it at her apartment and she used it more in the few years they were in Winnipeg than I have used it in the thirty years since then. We also bought four tables with tacky laminate tops and removable legs for ten or twenty dollars, and we still have three of them stacked in a corner of the basement – my daughter says I just need to take digital photos and advertise them on Kijiji as RETRO to make a fortune.
The solid oak dining table with carved legs and matching chairs, buffet and china cabinet has the most interesting story. I used to scan the newspaper classifieds, and the description of a dining suite of solid oak, with matching buffet and a china cabinet was exactly what I was looking for – quality furniture. The owner, on the phone, told me her house was just at the bottom of the hill on (I forget the name of the street) in St. Boniface. So we drove there and went up and down but found no hill. We went to a gas station and phoned again, and were told other coordinates “at the bottom of the hill.” It turned out that the “hill” was the slightest of inclines which we never noticed in spite of driving up and down several times!! Prairie people’s concept of hills!!
In honour of my dining suite, I have used the story in my novella, Maru and the M.M.Syndrome!
To complete the story of my classical furniture, three years ago, I asked my daughter what we should keep for her in case we downsized and moved, and she said she would like to have only the furniture we had bought in 1967, and that we should junk everything else. (We are still living with the "junk.")
So I decided she might as well have them now instead of waiting till we were dead, and I had the movers move everything that was beautiful in our present house, including all the original paintings. The movers’ bill was a whopping $2800, or should I say a mere $2800 considering the sentimental value of the contents that were shipped to the U.S. She takes more care of them than I ever did, and I can enjoy them when we visit her!! I still have the Singer machine though, and if I ever have to sew something, I still prefer it to the newer one.
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