Architecture – slightly weird

31st August 2026

Everyday things every day

Friday, 28 August, 2026

It’s been a month of getting medical stuff done and I guess I’m OK with that. My bionic era awaits.

First my surgery, then my oncology follow-up, then my lymphoedema and, in there somewhere bloodwork and X-ray. Next comes the optometrist and my radiotherapy follow-up, and to see my GP about this and that my new oncologist doesn’t need to know about – September, here I come. Life is a medical storybook, ticking off more of those boxes.

In December 2023 I went with my son and his girlfriend to the annual Christmas concert at St Anne’s Anglican Church, one of my Toronto Christmas traditions. My friend, Angela, was in their fantastic choir and had introduced me to the concerts many years ago. The church, built in 1907, was a breathtaking one. Not only was the exterior a lovely Byzantine-inspired design, and the interior full of colourful mosaic work, it also had many paintings around the eaves. These paintings were the only religious works of some of the Group of Seven, Canada’s most prominent artists. It’s hard to describe how stunning the whole was. I have a video.

This is written in the past tense because in early June 2024, a scarce six months later, the church, a National Historic Site of Canada, was on fire and the interior was completely gutted. I went to look at it shortly afterwards, and it pretty much broke my heart. This month, they are holding an exhibition in that space, completely open to the sky. The front of the domed church is intact. Three walls are standing but badly damaged. I went with my niece to take a look. I can’t say the art pieces inside were impressive, but the whole experience left me very emotional. It had been pouring all morning, so I wasn’t sure we’d get there, but I set out anyway. I arrived pretty wet and waded through deep puddles in the parking lot to get into the site. I’ll include some of the things that were on display. A very nice touch is a bread oven made from salvaged bricks. Adrianna and I had a small pita each with the very good za’atar dip made by the baker.

Gladstone Avenue, Toronto. St Anne’s on the left and the old Cadbury factory on the right (Now Mondelez)

From the street, it looks almost normal, but the doors are covered in wood and the beautiful middle dome, pictured here, is gone. The church was inspired by the magnificent Early Byzantine church Hagia Sophia (532-537AD) in Istanbul

From the back, inside the gutted church, the real story. The walls are wrapped in white, with red tape. There were three hanging objects that were super heavy. Couldn’t move them. Also a giant nest. I need to find out more about each highly symbolic piece

Art piece, Pushmepullyou, was very Pompeii

One of two wooden sculptures on the old doors. Reminding me of a bishop

I got over to Fiesta Farms to shop. Prices are high but the selection of herbs and vegetables are what sent me there. A long time ago, Fiesta Farms was a reasonably-priced heavily Italian supermarket and I’d go to save money and find some good Italian choices. These days I can’t afford much of what they put on their shelves. It’s become elite. Long gone are the days of $2 locally made panettone. Anyway, I walked there and back, and that’s A Big Deal.

Intrigued by mini artichokes and some zucchini blossoms near the entrance. Didn’t buy

Many, many soups. One sounded good enough to imitate — beet and ginger. Will try it!

Across the road, the nursery version – Fiesta Gardens. Once my plant shop of choice

On the bakery counter. Am I the only one who doesn’t love cannoli?

The herbs and vegetables always look amazing and this trip I noticed almost everything was from Ontario or Canada. This will change when the cold weather hits and everything is US or Mexico. I can guarantee Mexico will be favoured. The boycott of US goods is everywhere. Feel bad for the farmers, though

Meanwhile, I’m walking in the neighbourhood again – it’s the easy option, and now that the weather will start to cool down, I will pick some other neighbourhoods to be dropped off in for some different vistas and a different vibe, no matter how subtle. Making that list.

On the way to Fiesta Farms, a lawn campaign poster bonanza

Are others aware of the French language schools in Canada? This one is a Catholic elementary

An enormous and healthy silver birch tree a street just north of here

At the Portuguese supermarket, I was interested to see how clean and sanitised the pig trotters are compared to Ridley Road Market in Hackney. These won’t offend anyone at first glance!

I hope I can find some of these ‘lantern’ sprays for the apartment this autumn

In the Italian and Portuguese neighbourhoods – this one blends them – there are always vines set up wherever residents can fit them. This one in a front garden close by

Utility (Bell) box art – everywhere. This one is close by

About a block away, this very brief stretch of road is open to bicycles only and there’s a small picnic table, a bike station, and a solar panel

I want to walk “new” neighbourhoods. I’ve lived in Toronto enough to know that there aren’t many areas that are unfamiliar. So it’s mostly a revisit. Meanwhile, I went to Chinatown and to Little Portugal so I have had a bit of a change of scenery – the main goal, along with walking, which I’m trying to extend. I’d better start that list. Where first?

After a long break, I went for pho again. I need to try some new places. This is Xe Lua in Chinatown

Little Portugal intersection. We had a huge rainstorm that day and the skies are bleak

After leaving St. Anne’s, spotted this familiar rooster in the heart of Little Portugal

In Little Portugal. Crab apples, anyone? Whoa

This week, the restaurant went on holiday. Everyone is gone for a couple of weeks. It’s quiet! We’ve been asked to water the plants while they’re away, and it sounds like we might get a meal in return. Finally!

Coming in from a walk. The tables are gone and the chairs are housing plants for now

There’s been a fair amount of rain, and I’ve had appointments, so I’m trying to make the most of being at home. I started a program to combat my pre-diabetes and felt that, while I have a lot of diabetes knowledge from my teaching days, I needed a refresher-update. If I learn only one new thing a week, I will consider it a good move. The provincial health insurance covers the program, so it’s free. There’s homework each week, followed by a one-hour Monday morning touch-in about challenges and triumphs and a place to ask questions. Chief takeaways so far – An overnight fast of 12 hours (max 16) is recommended (and I’ve noticed I feel healthier in the morning now, so triumph.) Snacking means insulin is pushed into the system, so I have been doing that less often. This week was about exercise. This will be a tough one but if I can walk 20 minutes a day, especially during ‘fasting’ times it could make a difference. If you’re in Ontario, BC or Alberta, look here.

Not just walking. Also getting some sewing in and, looking at my latest, considering a new doll

Wondering about the Old Man? He was spotted in his now-flourishing garden, squatting with some support. Envious of that! My knees definitely won’t let me

The back patio is all packed up for the season. I’m a bit sad, especially if we get a meal – I’d have liked to have had that backyard woodfire smoked version of things

These are my everyday hours. Nothing to shout about but real. Now to decide what to do next. My work hours continue to drop, and that isn’t going to change any day soon, if ever. On my list, anyway – a couple of medical appointments (stop, already!), a visit to a different neighbourhood but also doing a bit of street art photography in Little Portugal – I simply couldn’t cover the whole area, two out-of-the-way eating places, a new doll – meaning a visit back to the fabric recycling place or a thift store or two, a visit to a historical site I haven’t been before – need to figure that one out soon since the next open day is coming up. Every day isn’t full of excitement, but I’m doing my best. I’d just love a companion for some of it. Seeking a foodie and a flaneur friend. You in?

8th June 2026

Getting out and fighting ennui

Friday, 5 June, 2026

We’ll start with a rant, shall we?

I haven’t had a steak for years. That’s the last thing I posted to my brother. Restaurants in Toronto seem promising, but often I come away disappointed and broke. I need some new go-tos! Don’t hold back. Send me some suggestions.

A disappointing meal at a place chosen for a friend’s birthday dinner. The bill was huge, and I could have produced better in my own kitchen. At the bottom left, these prosciutto-wrapped asparagus spears were ridiculously named “Italian spring rolls”.

At the same restaurant, this was billed as double chocolate cake. It was a square muffin at best. It’s so sad

At my friend’s son’s restaurant, The Federal (The Fed), I am rarely disappointed. Breakfast burrito with the crispiest rosti was my choice at lunch with my brother and my friend, Judy

My brother’s visit came and went. I considered m and am still considering, visiting him next time. I honestly have a good deal of hesitation until 2028 (hopefully not longer), and although I think it’s somewhat unfounded, it’s a very hard thing to think about. At the very least, I’d need to be in a safe and healthy break from all my medical stuff and know how to handle the physicality of it if I’m alone.

As expected, I couldn’t manage to get out with him as I always have. I managed slightly more than I thought at times but far less than I wanted. And maybe that’s where it has to sit with me for now. One day we met my son in his neighbourhood of Chinatown and Kensington Market. I managed really well that day and enjoyed all the colour and random stickering and wall art (none of the latter posted today).

Kensington Market, Baldwin Street. Changes so much over time but I think it’s ready for another makeover

Only kind of riot I’d expect in Toronto the Good

My brother also came with me to my monthly kitchen class at Toronto General Hospital Survivorship program. We had the sample snack- lunch they give you afterwards, and we’d wandered through the MaRS Centre. “Medical and Related Sciences,” MaRS has expanded beyond medical research into information and communications technology, engineering, and social innovation.

The Hydro building at Queens Park and College is lovely on a clear day

The MaRS Centre is impressive and there are always people walking or having coffee. I aso had my own discovery – going between floors is not easily accessible – for shame!

I love when new buildings incorporate old ones. In this case the front side and entrance of the building is on the main road.

Meanwhile, I’m carrying what I consider a sin — ennui. 2026 ennui. Writing fills some gaps; getting out a little is helpful if brief. I’d love to sew again, but I need materials to get started, and Krish isn’t keen on me stockpiling any more dolls. I also need art materials and ideas. I joined an online sewing week gathered some thoughts. I need to organise picking up the promised donations, and it feels daunting. Can someone volunteer to drive me from house to house to collect now that I can’t do the walking? Life became more complex. Can you feel my brain overheating?

I visited the grounds of the Ukrainian Catholic Church of the Holy Protection of the Mother of God (Yep, all that: Свята Покрова – Українська Католицька Церква Святої ). It’s just down the road from me and is one of those Toronto churches that makes you think you left the country. Canada has a very large Ukrainian community: 1.4 to 1.5 million people of Ukrainian descent live in Canada (122,500 in Toronto), making it the second-largest Ukrainian diaspora in the world after Russia. In fact, most Canadians consider pierogis one of their own national dishes. There are also 300,000 Ukrainian nationals living as temporary residents since 2022. I didn’t get to go inside the church, but I should try one day. My brother captured a few, enough for me to see it’s worth it. This page shows you just a bit, including a video. I actually prefer a very simple church, but this looks quite glorious.

Meanwhile, the restaurant is morphing into its summer incarnation. This has been fun to watch.

On Monday, two days before opening, the patio doesn’t look anywhere ready for diners. It will be!

I haven’t mentioned that my first cataract surgery is next week. I’m anxious, of course, but let’s get it done. I’m determined not to worry, and confess my biggest anxiety is going up in the elevator to the sixth floor! (I know.) There are three small elevators in the building, and only one is in service. It’s busy, with waiting times said to be around half an hour. Ouch. Once in, it will stop on every floor. This is a nightmare for an elevator-phobic like me. I shall have my audiobook or a meditation to listen to – must! Of course I will blog about it.

Friday-ish photo:

The Old Man’s garden. He’s obviously not there as often as he once was, but there’s growth at the back and along tight to the fence on the left, places he can hold on and do whatever work he can. There’s activity in the middle area, but I think others are taking care of this for him

Seeing the Old Man is like another episode in our personal soap opera. See him?

29th May 2026

Explorations are new styleeee

Friday, 29 May, 2026

Yesterday I dug into my stored enthusiasm and energy to do a mini-explore. The plan was to check out a small neighbourhood, then pop into the supermarket, then on to my friend Judy’s place nearby for a coffee.

I have a memory of being south of King Street one day, driving. I rarely drive in the city so this is vague. Down there was what I thought was a hidden Toronto, a time portal, a place where nothing had changed. In my memory, this was several narrow streets with old but beautiful homes, and factories. Things have really changed down there, and I would often look for those streets, and they weren’t there. I thought maybe I’d imagined them, but more likely and sadly, they were gone, eaten up by developers and skyscrapers.

Then I heard about Draper Street. My brother visited it a couple of years ago with my niece. All I knew was that there were old homes, almost buried among the new buildings. I took a quick look on Google Maps, but not too closely. I wanted to see this in person. It took me until yesterday to do that.

If this is what I remember, then it’s a small part, but it’s there. There are 28 nineteenth-century row cottages, now protected on this Heritage site. Toronto bustles; the traffic is notoriously jammed and noisy, and skyscrapers are going up everywhere with no end in sight – commercial and residential. Draper Street is indeed that time portal, what’s left of it. This was a workers’ housing area when it was built between 1886-1889. The street itself was first noted on a map from 1883. I doubt the street looked then as it does today. Yesterday it was colourful, bathed in sunlight, green in the finally-Spring day, and dotted with flowers. I found a listing for one of the workers’ cottages – 1100-1500sq ft – which sold for about $2,000,000 Canadian – 1,448,090 USD, 1,077,250 UKP. I would have guessed much higher, based on condo prices, and perhaps it is by now.

Draper Street row cottages. You can just see the students who were visiting

Draper Park, built after two cottages were torn down. 2026 encroaches at the back. Dizzy, a plump orange and white cat, was a popular fixture on Draper Street. Now he is a permanent one in Draper Park

When I arrived, the street was empty. Then a school group arrived. Their teacher asked them, What do you notice about this street after what we’ve seen so far? It’s quiet, said one teen, and that was pretty much it. I hoped there would be more, but the class was doing a scavenger hunt where it was their job was not to collect objects but facts. They moved on. I followed for a short while to see what they’d be shown next, but then turned away as we were suddenly travelling back to 2026.

Wellington Street, a little old, a lot new

A tree-lined walkway along Wellington Street

Along Wellington Street, it’s clearly 2026 for the most part. This area was once a centre of industry. There’s not a lot left, although there’s more a short walk away in the Niagara district. I did spot the old Copp Clark building at 517 Wellington Street West.

Copp Clark was originally a newspaper publishing venture, lithography, printing, bookbinding and stationery shop of Mr. Hugh Scobie. He was an energetic, ambitious young Scotsman who founded the business that would become Canada’s oldest continuously running book publisher. Copp Clark now specialises in information targeted to the needs of businesses in the global financial markets. It’s now headquartered in Etobicoke, a suburb of Toronto.

West from here is Victoria Memorial Square Park by Lieutenant-Governor John Graves Simcoe. It’s a combination cemetery, park and memorial area. Before Toronto was a city, from 1794 to 1863 it was the burial place for Fort York (the Toronto Garrison) . In the 1880s the ground was levelled. Some of the surviving gravestones are kept here, and there’s a monument to the War of 1812 erected in 1902.

Salvaged gravestones and more scavenging teens

Down to Judy’s where it’s tall and modern. No energy to look around. We had coffee and cake and talked about this and that. This was our first home when we returned from London so it’s all familiar. Still, perhaps a little modern exploration is in the future.

Fleet Street, the streetcar stop for Judy’s. It’s all condos here until you cross to the housing Co-Op where I’d have coffee

Stadium Road. It’s the home of the historic Maple Leaf Stadium, now long gone. The Maple Leafs were Toronto’s baseball team (Now it’s the name of the hockey team). Babe Ruth was an early player, and his first ever home run was hit from here. Legend says it landed in the lake (Lake Ontario) at the bottom of the street

On the way back, there were lots of people on the street on Ossington Avenue (“The Strip). The weather was sunny and warm with no humidity. Torontonians go through long winters and cool Springs thinking of days like this

Back home. The restaurant has started setting out furniture on the side patio for the summer. On Wednesday, business will shift to the back

The lovage is growing so quickly. Time to pick more!

Getting the back patio ready for Wednesday. They’ve been sanding and varnishing natural wood planks and hanging and arranging flowers and plants

Why new style (styleeee, GenZ)? These days explorations are brief and not frequent. I know I’m stronger than I was and going further, but I’m not there yet. I’m doing what I can, when I can, and I hope it gets easier. In the meantime, I tell myself, You’re doing your best, Jan.

FRIDAY(ISH) PHOTOS (Life as it is) Scroll down if you’re an Old Man fan

There’s some advanced al fresco dining at the side now – end of May

From the back. The tarpaulin is up and there’s growth in the Old Man”s garden – end of May

Look who it is. Slowly but faithfully, things are getting done. The Old Man – end of May

11th May 202612th May 2026

Not much yet so much

Sunday, 10 May, 2026

(Admin: Live! is updated here)

I have so many photos and so little to say, really. Yet I always manage to say a lot. A friend told me I might say too much – well, that’s a bit of misquote, but it refers to my entire family’s predilection for stream of consciousness speaking and, in my case, writing. Ho hum. Should I apologise? Not really, but I will say that, for my cancer journey, especially, I am writing as much for myself and my recovery and survivorship as to entertain or educate. It’s just one reason I kept it separate. I am very conscious of my habit of speaking aloud what I’m doing or thinking. I don’t suppose I will change, but I do my best not to overdo it, and I acknowledge this every day. For those who read me, or listen to me, sorry not sorry applies. This is who I am.

Shopping for tulips. Proof (to me, at least) that I do get out

We have a friend. He was Krish’s closest friend in high school and we still see him a few times a year. He’s a quiet soul but with definite opinions. He’s also gay. This has been a curiosity for Krish, who asks, was he always? Yes, I say. Hmm. I love that his partner is his opposite. Not loud, but vocal, doesn’t care much what you think of him or his lifestyle. It’s an interesting dynamic. Yesterday we went to his birthday dinner at his chosen restaurant. Krish and I don’t like the food, but I said it was about the birthday boy, not us. WheelTrans picked us up an hour late, and we raced (can I even do that?) in, then needed to leave before the cake had appeared. Damn. The only straight people there, this time we found someone to chat to. Interesting guy. Maybe we can meet again.

My feta, zaatar and spinach scone with a macchiato at Field Trip. For those carb-shunners who read my blog, it’s worth the walk. One of my favourite spots for coffee in the neighbourhood

I lived in San Francisco in 1969, and my best friends were a bunch of gay men who lived next to us. We shared a back porch, and we crossed it at will. Chats, communal dinners, even sleepovers were common. It was a good city to be gay. Toronto in the early 70s was that place too. There was no overtly gay village, but it did exist more loosely in its current location. My husband’s boss owned a gay nightclub in the area, and we often went to support them. We even helped with the food table they’d put out as part of admission. They infamously used dog food for pate – I’m serious. I’d dish it out. In those days, I loved the cabaret. Now I can’t be bothered with it. We made many friends, some infamous, some famous, and we lost them. My family reads my blog, so I’ll be discreet and say we also lost a family member whose gender would now be considered pansexual. Did we know that? I know I did, but then my life experience helped. Other people in my life helped me get there. I’ll leave their stories out for now. Anyway, no time for photos of Toronto’s gay village this time, but I’ll be back there in early June to catch up.

So excited to see things starting to bloom. Soon it will be overgrown like winter never happened

There’s news. The Old Man is alive! We both saw him, or what we thought and hoped was him, walking to the bus stop with a cane. No WheelTrans for him! We kept looking out the back window, and still the garden remained untouched. I told Krish that Torontonians often don’t plant until what’s called the May Two-Four weekend (so called because it’s the date around which the holiday falls and the Canadian slang for a case of twenty-four beers (a “two-four”) the most popular drink for the weekend, and to take to cottage country (more about that in a minute). Before that, frost is a deterrent. People plant seedlings to take out once the danger has passed, or they buy small pots of vegetables and herbs to start their own gardens (again). But they’re usually preparing their gardens before that – tilling, filling in the soil, planning out their patches. We had seen nothing. This week, that changed. Someone was out there turning the soil and then sowing seeds. Certainly not the Old Man judging by their energy, but perhaps a child or a friend. We hope he’ll be out there himself when the work isn’t so heavy and we look forward to following our own personal next-door drama.

Meanwhile, they are hard at work getting the restaurant patio ready for the summer season, which will begin in June. Yesterday, on our way in from the birthday dinner, I could see right into the restaurant. I normally pass it in the day and it’s not really visible. I was surprised at how modern and sophisticated it looks in there. The back garden patio is another story. It’s what Krish calls Muskoka style. For the uninitiated, Muskoka is north of Toronto in an area people here call cottage country, where people have summer cottages near the lakes and park forests. In the restaurant’s backyard, there are plants, wood chips, wood stoves, fire logs, and the like. If you’ve been to cottage country, it’s logical. There are no lakes, but there will certainly be mosquitoes.

The chef-owner, Justin, is from Actinolite, hence the name of his restaurant. Actinolite is not Muskoka County. It’s considerably south of there. Actinolite can sound romantic if you only know the restaurant, but it’s named after the form of asbestos that was mined in the area. Ouch.

The staff, mostly Justin, is getting the side and back of the restaurant ready for summer. There are planters and the herb gardens that border the seating area are growing. The most favoured herb is lovage. It began sprouting about a week ago and has grown so quickly that it shocked me. We’re invited to pick any herb we want, and we used a lot of lovage during our last stay here. It tastes like celery leaves but without the bitterness.

Lovage on 10 May. This much growth in less than a week!

Justin filling the planters at the side. It was like a meditation

Industry downstairs. A steady pounding of something on the left, like cracking open nuts. On the right, a good fire and earnest conversation

Today is Mothers Day here, and I’ll meet my son, Robin, at the Waterworks, which is a food hall in his general area, in Toronto’s Fashion District where once all the tailors could be found. I’ll add photos. Our meeting is not about Mothers Day, but just because. When I told my autistic son I wasn’t sure where to meet because everywhere would be busy today, his response was ‘Why will it be busy?’ I’m used to it.

(Later) My visit with my son was great. We went to Waterworks, a lovely building, which I thought I’d documented before and need to look at more closely again before saying more. My lunch was dreadful, but who cares? (What I do care about is not having taken a photo of us together.) The day exhausted me – I did a lot more than I thought I could. That’s a good thing. So is mother and son time.

Waterworks Food Hall, Brant Street, Toronto. We once rented a condo that overlooked this building before it was refurbished. Loved that condo!

How the food hall looks when you first enter. It’s airy and not overcrowded. A nice change from mall food halls

Looking towards Spadina Avenue from Waterworks. This is the Fashion District of Toronto

Friday Photos:

The front – 8 May. April and May have been very rainy. Just a little more sun and everything will bloom

22nd November 2025

Cusp of the Season

Saturday, 22 November, 2025

Ordinary days. On the 7th I finished my rehab sessions. 90 minutes of education followed by 60 of gym work. The group had started out feeling like it couldn’t gel, but week by week it did happen. There were always the odd ones, the fussy ones, the bewildered ones, the ones who bounded in like this was a heavy-duty gym experience and ate lettuce and raw almonds like it was their religion. What’s said in group stays in group. By the end, we were pretty much a team. One of the younger ones arrived with a QR code to scan and join WhatsApp so we could ‘keep ourselves accountable.’ Not so bad then. We exercised and had the most fun warming up to Blue Jays fan songs, willing ‘our team’ to win. They didn’t in the end, but it was quite a ride. I won’t get into it. It sucked to lose. There’s always next year. For a while, though, Toronto was buoyant. If you lived here and felt the animosity from the USA, this was a big deal.

Then we got an early taste of winter.

They were right. Out came the winter boots and coats. Here we go then. It lasted a few days, about two and a half days longer than I expected.

The first day it snowed, there was enough to shovel.

When it was almost clear, I had to go to an appointment at Wellesley near Church. This area is now called the (Gay) Village. It’s always weird for me since it’s not always been so chic. Back in the day I’m sure there were gay residents — their biggest stores, bars and other haunts were around there – but there were also the young straight crowd, the hippies. Along these roads they lived together in crowded and awful conditions, shooting up drugs and not coming out for days. There’d be sprays of blood on the walls, garbage on the floors. No one cared as long as they were high. Does this still happen now? Today it’s cleaned-up facades and rainbows, trendy restaurants and boutiques. Everything changes.

I was there to renew my WheelTrans pass. This is Toronto’s public transit alternative to public transport. I got it because I was in treatment and going back and forth while in a vulnerable position. No one really wants to need it but it opened up my life and I feel sure I’d have stayed housebound without it. I’ve seen a lot of the city too, the back streets. Somtimes I doin’t have a clue where I am, the buses and cabs zigzag around in sometimes illogical patterns and then I look up and notice something familiar and reorient. There have been some crazy journies but I’ll skip talking about these for now. (PS I was accepted for another year when I hope to be well enough to actually have adventures.)

One of the perks of the transport is going places I might not have elected to travel to or, if I had, would have been an onerous journey. On the last day of my rehab, I was invited to a get-together for the women I used to teach with. Some of them I’d known since the early 80s. Then we were together, with only a few missing faces, as if we had never been apart. There was a lunch that was mostly breads and a bunch of cheese, but the company was warm. We sat in the friend’s house and enjoyed each other’s company and her amazing living area, full of comfy couches and a view of the trees at the back. Envious, moi?

Suddenly raalising where I was after seeing this hippy bus near Trinity-Bellwoods Park

I went back to making dolls. My brother called this a Janice doll. I certainly didn’t mean to do that.

At least if it’s a Janice doll, she has hair

I really need supplies, though. I try to make my dolls from recycled materials and give-aways. After another rehab appointment on Friday, I went to look at a few fabric stores on Queen Street West. I did find a place that wasn’t too expensive, but I’ve been used to Ridley Road bargain bins and Stoke Newington remnants where the owner would ask me how much I wanted to pay for my handful of lace, ribbon, beading and colourful fabrics and never said no to what I offered. On Queen Street, I succumbed to buying two separate metres of lace – $9.00. Must find more donations in the neighbourhood or it’s the end of my sewing career.

Queen Street West has also changed. I took a few photos, though. I was there, after all.

I did my last Writing workshop (cancer-related) on Thursday and am not sure I learned much. Maybe. I also did my last art therapy workshop on Friday (also cancer-related, as most of my things are these days). I did learn from this one. My art group did gel pretty quickly. We were a mixed bunch but we’ll stay connected, I know it. Our final assignment was to look at common themes from all of our past works. This was my piece.

I learned that home was my common theme. Always with lots of windows, chimneys with evident smoke from fires, and although surrounded by trees and plants, most definitely urban. In this one the Gherkin and a bit of a botched attempt at the Tower of London are clearly there. This yellow brick road had no obstacles. A clear path home. The sky was blue, the sun was out and shining. A wish on paper.

Today I haven’t gone out. I made some noodle soup, mixed a little miso into the broth, cooked a perfect egg but forgot to marinate it, and added some marked-down tempura shrimp for that fancy touch. Winter comfort on the horizon.