Last night, my home class sat outside on the deck for the first time, with birdsong and the scent of lilac. John and I had spent much of the afternoon on house projects, including an

A glorious Sunday evening, mild and quiet – no sounds but birds and scattered neighbour voices, and the background rush of the city, of course. I’m feeling my shoulders start to lower from around my

Wednesday was the electricians; Thursday was the termite guys, drilling into the foundations of my house all around the perimeter and injecting poison to keep the vile beasties out. They told me they saw a

Sitting here just now, home after teaching at Ry tonight, glass of wine in hand, when an enormous raccoon sidled up to my back door and peered at me through the glass. I wonder if

Allen Gardens – a mass of colour. Better late than never. As my friend Ken said yesterday, I love long weekends in the city in the summer, so quiet and empty – everyone’s at the

Coming right up. I’ve been editing the pieces – seven beautiful essays with one more to come in, plus mine, which will be a surprise. Which is good since that’s the topic. A fabulous time

The sun is shining; my heart is heavy. Four months ago, I emailed my memoir, the memoir I’ve been working on for 3 years or possibly longer and have paid to have professionally edited several

I know you will find it hard to believe that after Mr. Wu the electrician and his gang spent many, many days this winter at my house ripping walls and floors apart to fix the

I am trembling. I spent some time yesterday writing and rewriting an email, read it to friends, left it 24 hours, read it to my daughter, just sent it. There’s been a huge injustice in

Do not ever remember a colder, more wet and miserable Mother’s Day. We always complain that in Toronto, we go directly from winter to summer, with a temperate spring that lasts about three hours. But