The Gull Lake Diner was dressed for the season—garlands strung along the counter, red bows on the booths, and a small tree twinkling in the corner. The jukebox hummed carols under the chatter, and the smell of coffee mingled with pine and sugar cookies. Snow clung to boots by the door, and every time it opened, a gust of cold air reminded folks why they gathered here. Christmas in Gull Lake wasn’t just about lights and laughter—it was about generosity, dignity, and shared joy

Snow boots thudded against the diner floor, steam rising from mugs as the regulars settled in. This week in Gull Lake : sidewalks cleared not just for bylaw but for neighbors; a recipe book fundraiser serving up support for Autumn House ; and holiday cheer both at home and down the road. At Coffee Row, the stories spilled as freely as the coffee. Community Care Starts at the Curb Edna brushed snow from her scarf and tapped her mug. “A clear sidewalk says, ‘I care about who wa

Heritage: Preserving Our Past, Building Our Future Gull Lake Diner, early December. The windows fog with the warmth of conversation and the comforting aroma of fresh coffee. Morning sunlight poured through the frosted windows, catching on the worn linoleum and the cheerful faces gathered at the big table. Mugs steamed in every hand, and the low hum of chatter rose and fell like a gentle tide. This was the heart of town—a place where stories brewed as easily as coffee. Edna ,

Opening The Gull Lake Diner hums with anticipation. This week, the talk isn’t bylaws or bingo — it’s music. On Thursday, December 4th, 2025, at 7:00pm, the SWT Lyceum Theatre will host a night of prairie storytelling and song. With its familiar façade, classic marquee, and central entrance framed by a pedestrian crosswalk, the Lyceum is more than a building—it’s resilience in brick and wood. Rebuilt twice over its century‑long history, it has survived fires, renovations, and

The smell of sizzling bacon drifts through the Gull Lake Diner, mingling with the rich aroma of fresh coffee. Mugs clink and the low hum of conversation weaves between the clatter of forks and the scrape of chairs on the checkered linoleum. Outside, a dusting of snow glows under the morning sun, but inside it’s all warmth and familiarity. Hank sits in his usual spot, stoic as ever. Edna’s glasses are perched on her nose as she reads, and Mabel knits quietly next to a steamin

Steam rises from chipped mugs as the usual crew gathers at Coffee Row. Outside, a November chill clings to the windows, but inside, the conversation crackles with warmth and energy. Chairs scrape against the worn floor as mugs are set down, and the hum of conversation builds. This week, the talk is thick with news: the latest Gull Lake 2035 column, curling rink repairs, and the Lyceum’s upcoming Grey Cup bash. Edna (dry wit, leaning back with a raised brow): “‘That’ll never w