It's here already! 2010!

This week we finally get to see some thaw in our mid-winter deep freeze here in Central Alberta, just as other parts of the continent experience some of their coldest temperatures in years. We'll refrain from a chorus of "nanny-nanny-boo-boo's" however... we empathize as we certainly had a long cold snap of our own this winter. Aside from those of us who succumb to headaches during these chinook conditions, most are quite welcoming of the warmer temperatures.

Speaking of heating things up... Valentine's Day is just around the corner! And for years our Valentines Erotic Food Gourmet Evening has delighted patrons. This year promises more of the same... as much as the food is delicious and most have aphrodisiac qualities, the presentation itself is quite 'entertaining'! This is not an evening for those of a more 'refrained' demeanour! Now for the first time, Patrick is divulging a sneek peak at the menu for this evening. Reserve early for Saturday, February 13!

In keeping with an aphrodisiac theme, we will also be hosting a Seafood evening on March 6. Please visit our events page for all the juicy details!

If you are looking for a special gift for Valentine's Day, come out to shop at the Boutique during our Sweetheart Sale on January 14 - February 14. Buy one item at regular price and get a second purchase at equal or lesser value at half price. Can't make it to the Boutique this month? You can also shop online - and give your sweetheart a gift certificate to purchase whatever they desire!

For all you love birds, here is a special poem via Pat to mark the month of romance.

Blessings to all,
Patrick and Sue de Rosemond

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments; love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his
height be taken.
Love’s not Times fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error upon me prov’d,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.