Friends

We don’t get many visitors out here in the winter - there is little reason for anyone to drive the backroad to Cedarvale. It becomes a silent world, where only animal tracks in the snow let us know that others have been here – perhaps in the night while we sleep – a coyote, a moose, meadow voles. But yesterday morning we had a visitor, Danny, a tall, well-built young man in his thirties, wearing work boots, jeans, and a padded flannel shirt. He occasionally helps Bob with some of the heavy work around our place, and during our cross-country trip he cut and stacked a good supply of firewood for us – which we particularly appreciate right now. “I’m off work today,” Danny told us, “The mill is closed down because it’s too cold for the machinery.” So we sat and visited for an hour or two. Talked about the new enterprise in town – the Kitwanga Coffee Cup – opened on Thursday - could the good old boys who gather for coffee twice a day at Eric’s garage be lured away? Doubtful – there is no smoking allowed inside the Coffee Cup, and it wouldn’t be the same sitting around tables with table clothes. Besides, Eric’s coffee is free (mostly).

We have spent the last few days close to home, keeping the cabin warm and the pipes unfrozen. With a little warming trend this afternoon we decided to take a break and drive into Kitwanga to visit the new coffee shop. The drive along the backroad looked like a scenic Christmas card, with the Hazelton Mountains in the distance, and snow coated evergreens that resembled the bottle-brush trees that decorate miniature Christmas villages. We stopped at Eric’s Garage for some gasoline – through the window I could see two guys inside the station sitting on chairs and drinking coffee – soon three more wandered in – I don’t think the new coffee shop stands a chance with these guys. A quick stop at the general store and finally to the Kitwanga Coffee Cup. Red and white balloons hung from the Coffee Cup’s wooden sign, and a hand printed sign saying “Open,” but there was only one vehicle in the parking lot, our friend Richard’s pickup truck. As we opened the door the good scent of baking greeted us. “Hi Cheryl! What’s that good smell?” Richard’s wife was behind the counter and told us she had just baked some cinnamon buns, “Fresh out of the oven.” “Great, we’ll each have one and two cups of coffee.” We sat down at one of the tables with Richard. He had remodeled the small building, turning “Terry’s Tax and Bookkeeping” into the Kitwanga Coffee Cup. Terry’s tax service is still here though, tucked into a corner of the room. It’s good to sit with friends and share with them their new venture.

... P. L. Morningstar