January 25, 2022
J is for Junk Store
If you’ve been around here for a long time, you’ll know that I started a project in 2011 in which I took photos of my child reenacting scenes from Allan Moak’s Toronto ABC book, published as a big city abc in 1984 (on the occasion of Toronto’s sesquicentennial!) and A Big City Alphabet in 2009—I have both copies! But because the alphabet is just as big as the city is, the project remains incomplete. We went skating at Nathan Phillips Square over the holidays, which inspired me to pick the books off the shelf and revisit R is for Rink, and then we realized a few letters were still outstanding, J is for Junk Store among them. Mostly because junk stores are not exactly FLOURISHING in our current commercial real estate market…but then again we haven’t done W is for Winter either, and winter is sure going strong. The other day, however, we walked past this weird store on the corner of College and Lippincott which I don’t think has ever been open, and realized it fit the bill, so here we are. One more letter. At this rate, the project should be completed by the time my children are through their teens.
January 18, 2022
Gleanings
- Compare these two sentences: “My feelings are hurt.” versus “You hurt my feelings.”
- I stretch, starfished across the bed. What shall I do with this day, I wonder?
- We can’t turn off our fear of these unknowns. But here’s what I do know: It’s time to untangle morality from health. For our kids and for ourselves.
- Why do I hate asking for help, SO MUCH?? And here’s where things get ugly. Because I think I know the answer, and I don’t like it.
- In my experience, the most dramatic of the mama bears are those with the least realistic threats—the White, privileged moms, like me, who are used to getting things our way.
- For years, she was a jumble sale of smocked Liberty dresses, stripy leggings, glittery shoes and some ridiculously large flower on her noggin.
- So I’m having my bubblebath, this little self-care ritual that is really just a drop in the bucket of self-care that we all need, but at least it’s something, and I’d been wondering about how one even goes about collectively or as a group thinking-things-through these day when we’re all so separate.
- Yes, people wax on about how rewarding parenting is, and it is, but sometimes you can’t see that until later. Sometimes you’re so much into the just doing and coping and wondering and worrying above all else if you’re getting it right.
- The amount of this time stretch right now is practically imperceptible—only about a minute or so on either side—but it’s enough.
- And so I leapt … And found myself right back where I was … here, with the full-bellied yes to write random blog posts for no apparent reason other than joy and desire, rather than academic papers with long bibliographies and MLA-style references, that will be evaluated and praised.
- I sew my irregular stitches, never improving, while the world is on fire, dark with war, shadowy figures conspiring to violence, rafts sinking, and my only effort this morning is to stack logs by the woodstove and hope for the best.
September 1, 2018
T is for Tugboat
When Harriet was nearly two, I was inspired to begin recreating images from Allan Moak’s iconic Toronto alphabet book A Big City ABC, and thus Harriet’s Big City Alphabet was born! Born—but then left incomplete for five whole years. The most recent post was B is for Baseball in 2013. But then today we found ourselves at Hanlan’s Point, and finally we could get the shot for T is for Tugboat! Harriet is a thousand feet taller and she’s got a little sister now who’s no slouch either. And maybe now we should look into finishing the alphabet, because obviously it’s never too late.
August 27, 2012
M is for Market
Location: Casa Acoreana Cafe, Baldwin St & Augusta Ave, Kensington Market
