Follow wife’s lead on livening things up

Heart and soul of a neighbourhood

Every morning on her way to work, Mel Prociuk clambers up the scaffold that hugs the spire jutting up from the east side of Augustine United Church. The metal and plywood steps clang as she rises above the trees, above the roofs of Osborne Village, and into the blue Prairie sky.

From the tip of the steeple, 46 metres above River Avenue the city splays out a blanket of leafy green, pierced by the blocky tops of nearby apartment towers. Across the river, the Golden Boy turns its back towards the church, which was already 15 years old when that statue first raised its torch atop the legislature dome.

For the two months they've been working to paint and restore the steeple, Prociuk and her Valour Decorating co-worker Lindsay Nakonechny have liked to sip their morning coffee up there, enchanted by the view, unfazed by the height. You can see the whole city from up there, Prociuk says, an incredible sight.

"It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity... you're never going to be that high again," Prociuk says, squatting on a plywood platform about five storeys up the church's elegant limestone face. "You can see all the green, all the beautiful buildings all around."

Mayoral candidate Vogiatzakis promises new express-lane permitting process

A mayoral candidate is promising a complete overhaul of the city’s permit processes, if elected.

Mike Vogiatzakis held his second of what he said would be weekly campaign pledges leading up to the Oct. 28 mayoral election. He pitched what he described as a “one-day green lane” model for approving small-scale permits: complete applications for “simple, low-risk projects” would be approved in one business day. Other residential permits would be guaranteed to be approved within five days and simple commercial permits would have a 10-day approval. Larger jobs, he said, would have a “written timeline.”

Vogiatzakis promised to open a permit hub dedicated solely to applications filed by small businesses.

“Business owners, of course, can spend months (paying) rent while waiting for permits,” he said Friday. “Homeowners and contractors can be left without clear decisions for a long time. Winnipeg has gone online with applications, but an online application is not an approval. A target is not a guarantee. My plan adds the missing link.”

One family passes trapping knowledge through three generations

Snow falls softly over a muted landscape of boreal forest, rock ridges, spruce swamps and beaver ponds. This 60-square-kilometre area of land in the southwest corner of Whiteshell Provincial Park is the Imrie family trapline; they are designated to trap and manage the populations of fur-bearing animals.

Right now, three generations of Imries — Murray, 72, Devin, 36, and five-year-old Thomas — are gathered at a beaver house. Devin thumps a 1.5-metre-long ice chisel onto the surface of the pond, looking for the entrance of the lodge (the movement of the beavers swimming back and forth below weakens the surface). Thomas climbs onto the pile of sticks and brush with his grandpa, and the two dig through the snow to find the breathing hole. Hot air and a thick, musky smell means that the beavers are active here this winter.

The scene could have taken place a century earlier. Other than the snowmobiles parked nearby, the process hasn’t changed much over the years. Devin cuts a hole in the ice, chops down a long, thin tree to serve as a pole for holding the traps under the water, and then gets to work setting them. They are wire “conibear” style traps, orange with rust after many seasons of use, designed to snap around the animals’ neck or body, killing them instantly.

Murray explains the beavers have already eaten all of the poplar in the area, which is their preferred food source, and have moved onto birch and spruce. If the going gets really rough, the rodents might even resort to eating cattail tubers to make it through the winter. A twig of poplar, scratched to simulate tooth marks, is stuck into the trap as bait. “We’re going to have a beaver probably in less than two days,” crows Thomas.

NDP trying to solve health-care problems from every angle — except the one likely to have the biggest impact

Winnipeg’s emergency-room wait times hit a record high in July, according to the latest data released Thursday by the Winnipeg Regional Health Authority.

The 90th-percentile wait for all emergency rooms and urgent-care sites hit a staggering 13.02 hours last month, the longest wait ever recorded since the WRHA began publishing monthly data.

Thirteen hours is not a wait, it’s an endurance test. And it’s getting worse.

The 90th percentile is the point at which nine out of 10 patients experienced a shorter wait and one in 10 waited even longer.

‘Women were shortchanged.’ Why bobsledding’s idea of equality doesn’t add up

When female bobsledders pushed for an Olympic four-woman event, they got a solo discipline instead: monobob. Now they’ll race for the same number of medals as men, but with fewer sledders. Not the progress they were looking for.