Smile :)

This picture makes me oh so happy...if only I could convince Steve to let me hang it on our living room wall.

Can you spot Yoko???

Photo via A Cup of Joe via Maxim Dalton.

Tall Boots

As a woman with "athletic" calves, I find it extremely difficult to wear books like these. And yet at long last I have found a pair that fits me properly, and that are warm to boot. (No pun intended.) I am thrilled to say that the beautiful footwear pictured above will be waiting for me under the tree on Christmas morning.

A big thank you goes out to my mother for encouraging me to consider trying on tall boots after many years of shying away from the style altogether. I guess miracles do happen after all.

P.S. These boots are made by the Canadian company Pajar. They are amazing!

Quiet

Please allow me to be self-indulgent here for a moment, as I discuss a subject that is very near and dear to my pride.

Since I was a little girl, I have been called “quiet” by a wide variety of acquaintances. Of course, “quiet” is not necessarily a bad thing. Teachers always loved me. So did old people and librarians. I was the good little girl who listened in class and did well on tests; who played four square or hopscotch at recess with a small group of equally well-behaved friends; who seamlessly followed the rules and never caused ruckus in gym class.

This dynamic seemed to work for me, as I was always a pretty happy kid. I was never bullied and never had a shortage of friends. Notably, they were always among the most non-judgemental of my peers, but looking back I can see this was most certainly a good thing.

As adolescence approached, however, other kids my own age began to feel the need to point out to me my quietness. I’m sure that they never meant to hurt my feelings – their tones and expressions were always more surprised than derisive. (Why kids who had known me since grade two would be surprised at my being quiet is beyond me, but that’s how it was.)

I became increasingly sensitive to this label, and tried as hard as I could to show my peers that I could be as loud and jovial as they were. The problem was that acting in such a way was contrary to my natural personality, and I lacked entirely the instinct of how to convey my desired image. Case in point: my favourite quote as picked by my classmates for our grade eight year book was “I’m not quiet.”

By the time I reached high school, I had pretty much given up on ever being the chatty, giggly girl everyone seemed to expect me to be. Terrified of being called “shy,” something far worse than “quiet,” I involved myself in the drama club as much as possible. Thankfully, drama kids are some of the most non-judgemental people in any school setting, and their acceptance, combined with the presence of my long-established elementary school friends, allowed high school to be an enjoyable time for me.

Next came university, where there were simply so many other students that no one really cared whether or not I was quiet. Also, speaking up in classes or seminars was never a problem for me, nor was giving presentations. In general, I have always been quite confident on the subject of bookish things, and contrary to popular belief I am not shy about speaking in front of people.

Admittedly, I can be “quiet” - especially when I am the new person amongst a group of people who have known each other for years and already have a well-established dynamic. Indeed, many people I have encountered through the various jobs I have held since graduating have felt it necessary to inform me that I am, in fact, quiet.

“It’s a compliment,” says my mother. Yeah, about as much as telling someone to their face that they’ve gained weight is a compliment.

“They want you to come out of your shell so they can get to know you better,” says my husband. Pray tell, thou who is supposed to know me better than anyone else in the world: what is this shell that you speak of?

I love people. Really, I do. That’s one of the main reasons why I love my job. I enjoy talking to people, learning about what they do, and sharing in some small way their passion for a particular activity or cause. I can honestly count on one hand (well, maybe two) the number of people I have met in my life whom I genuinely dislike.

To be a writer one first needs to be an observer, and that suits me just fine. I believe in listening over blabbing my mouth off, and if that means people will perceive me as quiet then so be it.

After 27 years, I won’t be changing any time soon.

Food Photography 101

I've never really been much of a food photographer/blogger. Then the other night Steve started making one of my favourite dishes, eggplant chana masala from Alicia Silverstone's The Kind Life, and I felt inspired!

I started out shooting Steve chopping the all the veg. I was pretty happy with these photos, only next time I think I'd wipe away all the little bits of garlic from around the chopping board! The eggplant falling off every which way isn't all that pretty either, but we'll blame Steve for that one.

Cilantro - one of my favourite foods. (A bit of a "meh" photo, I know, but I just had to include it.)

This chana masala tasted much better than it looks. If I could re-do it I'd add a tasteful leaf or two of cilantro, take the photo, THEN pile it on to my liking!

The best part, as usual, was eating it.

Evil Cat

Ok, I promise that this won't become a blog about my cat, but I thought I'd offer up further proof that Napoleon is indeed possessed by some sort of demon. Steve and I nearly died laughing at these photos...

Couldn't help myself....

I had to buy it.

Don't get me wrong, I was raised on the Beatles and they will undoubtedly remain the closest thing I have to a religion until the day I die. But I have always enjoyed the Stones, and been particularly fascinated by "the guitarist with mystique."

Plus I genuinely loved Agassi's autobiography, and thought I'd give another a try. I look forward to starting it this weekend...

Uhh...where did October go?

I can't believe that TOMORROW is Halloween! How did that happen? To be honest, I'm really not the biggest fan of Halloween, although I do love to be scared (vicariously, of course, through movies etc.) And I enjoy the fact that Napoleon (pictured above) is quite possibly the best Halloween decoration a house could ever ask for, not to mention quite scary.

Perhaps the scariest thing of all, though, is the fact that today I am participating in the Flight at Fort Fright - a 5k run around Fort Henry. When I decided to do it over a month ago I had all these wonderful intentions about training every day, timing myself, and getting used to continuing to run despite being tired. But, well, life happened, and all my good intentions went out the window.

Oh well, I'm determined to give it my best shot anyway, so please send me your good vibes!

Shameless Self Promotion

I'm super excited because today my first stories and column came out in Kingston and Frontenac EMCs!!!

Here is a link to the column.

My other news stories and features can be found at the same website, or on the Frontenac EMC site. I am delighted to be back, and to finally be doing something I love to make a real living.

At long last, life is good :-)

Review: The Slap

I have so many things I want to review at the moment, so I'm just going to jump right in. First off, The Slap by Christos Tsiolkas.

Imagine you're at a suburban barbecue and someone's terrible child proceeds to ruin everyone's (probably already precarious) good time by throwing fits whenever an adult or older child refuses to give in to his every whim. Now, imagine someone actually gives the kid what he deserves - like a swift slap across the face. Is that going too far?

This question, posed in The Slap, is answered in pretty much every way imaginable by the novel's characters. All are present at barbecue, and all are affected by the incident in some small (or large) way. I read several reviews that accused this book of being misogynistic, but to me it is more anti-human than anti-woman. Everyone in this novel is downright terrible, with the possible exception of two teenaged characters. (And if this is supposed to inspire an inkling of hope in readers it certainly does a luke-warm job of it.)

I didn't dislike this book, but I thought I would like it a lot more than I did. I appreciate gritty realism as much as I do idealistic literary "candy" (if you will), but The Slap is just so extreme in its unpleasantness. I do think Tsiolkas tried to give certain characters some redeemable qualities, but such traits become lost in a sea of repugnance.

Another aspect of the book that didn't really work for me is the rampant drug use. Maybe things are different in Australia, but most people I know don't exactly go around dropping E and popping speed at family barbecues with aged grandparents, etc present. And the condoning of such behaviour in teenagers by parental figures is an entirely foreign concept for me. I don't know - maybe the people I hang around are just a bunch of narcs, but I still didn't buy it.

But yeah, not a bad book all in all. Read it to feel good about your own life.

May I Confess...

Today is the first day of fall. Normally I’m all about the summertime, but for the first time in my life its departure makes me giddy with happiness.

I’ve mentioned in passing that things have been a little rough for the Campbell family this past summer. We learned the hard way that living in some far-flung corner of Toronto as a working couple with real jobs, real commutes, and real responsibilities is entirely unrecognizable from our life as blithe, gloriously cynical graduate students living in the heart of downtown. It’s not that either of us exactly disliked our jobs, our neighbours, or our home in Toronto. (Well, maybe some of our neighbours, but that’s another story…)

Personally, the main thrust of my anxiety and unhappiness came from the fact that I was essentially robbed of quality time. By quality time I mean this: time that is spent either doing something I enjoy, or something that is rewarding. For example, I used to enjoy driving, until I started doing it for approximately an hour and a half each day, always during rush hour in the inner city.

Now we are officially moving home to Kingston. Despite the fact that we have known moving was possible for a while now, and certain for over a month, the reality of what is happening only hit me a couple weeks ago.

If only I could think of a word for an intense, positive emotion that simultaneously describes joy, excitement, and relief. I am joyful because we are going home (quite literally, actually, as we are moving back into the house we love.) I am excited because I have a good job lined up that I know I will enjoy. Finally, I am relieved that I will no longer have to battle with Toronto traffic, and no longer have to spend all day worrying about whether Stella has been let out, and whether she and Napoleon have enough water.

So yeah, that's what's happening.

Bliss

I am delighted that this past weekend happened before the summer officially ends.

Not only did it contain my aunt Michelle's beautiful St. Lawrence wedding (where I had real fun for the first time in months), but I also found out that Steve and I will BOTH have good jobs to go to upon returning to Kingston. Do you realize what this means for us?...How LONG it has been since things have worked out for both of us at the same time, in the same city?

Yes, my dears, life is good. Writing and photo-taking finally seem possible again! Here are some of my favourites from the wedding...

Double Chocolate

Have I ever mentioned that I love long weekends? Especially when they're full of baking and birthdays and brand new MacBooks. Steve's birthday was actually Thursday, but I ended up baking his cake yesterday instead due to lack of time during the week. I used this recipe from the Oprah website and it was absolutely delicious! The cake contains the tiniest bit of espresso that gives it a wonderful little kick.

This summer has been long, hot, and exhausting, but I feel as though I'm finally coming back to life. Seriously, I love the heat and all but this year has been a little excessive.

Anyway, here's the cake I made, aglow with all the candles I could find between our cupboards and my parents'...

The birthday boy...

A rare half-decent photo of me from our bi-annual, tri-generational downtown Toronto shopping excursion earlier this summer. (For the record I am NOT naked - it's just a strapless dress!!!)

My adorable Grandma!

Last but not least, my beautiful new purchase. Obviously, I will now be much more inspired to write and engage in other productive activities...that is when I'm not obsessively watching frivolous videos on YouTube over and over and/or jumping from blog to blog admiring various pretty items and salivating over delicious-looking food...

Away

I have been unforgivably neglectful of my poor little blog these past few weeks, so I thought I'd drop you all a line.  Some personal troubles have come up that have demanded my attention and left little time for anything else.  I've said it before and I'll say it again - blogs should be about happy things.  It's just no fun for me to publicly vent about my troubles in a space meant to be devoted to all the things I love most.  And this summer has been a bit of a bust, hence the lack of posting.  However, I do have high hopes for the fall, so stay tuned...

Four Years

Today Steve and I celebrate four years of marital bliss.  

One gripe:  How on earth does big brother know our marriage is as of yet childless?  If facebook/random spammers send me one more ad for infertility treatments I swear I'm going to break my computer!!!

Review: The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake

I've been dying to read this book ever since I read Kerry's review a month or so ago.  And not just because the cover is awesome.  (I'm happy to report that my brain hasn't turned to total mush over the past few years).

The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake tells of a young girl named Rose who has the gift of being able to taste how a person is feeling in the food they cook or bake.  This novel is the perfect blend of reality and the supernatural, and an absolute joy to read.  The first 50 pages or so are sufficiently fluffy for a summer read, and drew me in with their their sensual, gritty, (often) succulent, descriptions of food and the act of eating.  I was also very much attracted by the whole LA vibe.  Even in the mid-summer heat, the idea of a year-round warm climate is very attractive to me, and I'm rarely known to reject an opportunity to live vicariously.  

Yet there is a grim undertone to Lemon Cake that is impossible to ignore, even in the passages that glitter like the warm, seemingly endless Southern California sun.  The thing that struck me about this book, is that about 90% of the food described by Rose tastes either sad or empty.  That which is prepared by her mother, for instance, is nearly always filled with negative emotions of some sort.   Foods prepared by the lunch ladies in the school cafeteria, or employees at the local bakery are described as tired, rushed, sad, and angry. Eventually, Rose is even able to taste the over-worked lettuce pickers in a box of mixed greens.  To avoid all the suffering, she spends much of her childhood and adolescence seeking out heavily processed foods from freezers or vending machines that have experienced minimal human contact. 

 I know that Bender is trying to make a point here about the state of the world's food crisis and/or the human condition in a capitalist society and/or something I haven't even considered.  Yet all that becomes somehow insignificant in the face of what evolves into an extremely memorable - one may even say haunting - series of revelations and plot developments.  (I don't want to give too much away because I want you all to go out and read this book.)  Somehow, however, the subtle not-quite-message that runs through Lemon Cake is what makes it such a compelling read.  

Maybe eventually I'll figure it out, but I doubt it.  Right now, I'm happy just to bask in the afterglow that results from reading a truly great novel.

Who do you write like?

Have you all discovered the new website that tells you who you write like?  Apparently I write like James Joyce.  I'm not sure how true this is, but I'll take it as a compliment.

Can't...stop...

Over the past few weeks, I have officially turned into the girl who spent every waking moment of her free time reading Stieg Larsson's novels.  Today I picked up the third and final installment, pictured above.  The problem is, I have about half an hour of free time on the average weeknight. It's to the point where I fervently resent the fact that I have to go to bed at night because it cuts into reading time.  Life is not fair.

27

Today is my birthday.  The seventh day of the seventh month. And I turned twenty-seven.  It's not quite my champagne birthday, but close enough.  Especially since I barely even knew what champagne was at age seven.

I share a birthday with Ringo Starr.  Ringo turned seventy today, an age which (obviously) also contains a seven.  Some say that sevens are lucky, and that the more sevens one can involve in his/her life, the luckier he or she will be.  I think that Ringo is certainly evidence of that.  Not that he isn't talented, but let's be realistic, people.

All this bodes well for me, I think.  At least it will if I convince myself it does, right?

Almost Cottage

Steve and I took an extra long weekend this Canada Day, and headed out to the Deerhurst Resort in Huntsville.  Yes, that's the place where they held the G8 summit.  It was nice to have that cottage-like experience I yearn for (now in vain) every summer, and we returned well rested and thoroughly relaxed.

The place is absolutely gorgeous, but my GOD were there EVER a lot of small children there.  Sigh, oh well...what can you do?

Look!  They have the exact same chairs there as they have at Sandals in Jamaica! 

And, of course, the requisite Muskoka chairs.

And canoes - which we didn't take out, but they still look pretty.

Much Trivial Pursuit was played.  

I can't believe it's Sunday already.  Four days off seemed like an eternity Wednesday evening, but really it's nothing.  Sigh.  I promise to start posting more this week.  I know I've been terrible lately, but things are gradually improving.

Beautiful Summer Weekend

My departure from Toronto this weekend was planned long before I considered what the G20 summit would likely bring to the city, but it seems as though it all worked out for the best anyway.  What a shame that the voices of so many peaceful protesters drawing attention to perfectly legitimate causes often become so overshadowed by the antics of a few idiots.

Several celebrations were had this weekend in Kingston, including a belated Father's Day dinner for my dad - the greatest man in the world!  (Along with my dear husband, of course!).  Unfortunately I managed to forget my camera, and could not take a picture of the beautiful meringue that topped our celebratory pie.  It's the first meringue that has ever turned out well for me, so it was truly a momentous occasion.

On weekends such as this, where I return to my favourite place in the world and have the pleasure of seeing so many people I love, I am reminded of what I am thankful for in my life - which brings me to a little confession I'd to make:  So often anymore I am guilty of seeing the past three years of my life as a complete waste of time - a series of bad choices, so to speak.  I become so depressed and wrapped up in the negative that I turn into a bitter, self-centred wife; a whiny, weepy daughter; and an inattentive - if not entirely absent - friend.  For that I apologize.  Several things have happened lately that have forced me to mature a little.  (For really, how are we ever to mature if not by force?)  

In light of all this, I have decided that each night before I go to sleep I will mentally acknowledge all the things I'm thankful for.  If I were a religious person, I guess this would be called a prayer.  For me, I think it will be a key step on my way to becoming a content, well-adjusted human being.  I know you're not supposed to talk about this kind of thing on blogs, which are generally much more happy and upbeat.  Thus I will leave you with five little things I am grateful for right now:

1)  My sweet husband, who is currently out fixing our car.  (Yes, you read that right.  Steve is fixing the car.  Oh how I love him!)

2)  The loyal golden retriever at my feet.

3)  The mourning dove calling from the tree outside, reminding me, for some reason, of the cottage.

4)  The fact that The Body Shop brought back their Oceanus scent.

5)  The fact that, despite seemingly overwhelming evidence to the contrary, I do have choices, and consequently the power to turn my life around.

Photo from Design Crush.

Lately

I concede that I haven't been the best blogger in the world lately.  You may have been wondering what I've been up to.  (Then again maybe not, as I'm sure like most people you're far too busy in your own life to worry about the absence of a half-hearted blogger.)

Truth be told, adjusting to "working life" in Toronto has not been an easy transition.  As students, pretty much everything we needed/wanted was in walking distance of our flat.  Now, I spend a total of an hour and a half per day commuting to and from work.  The drive itself should only take about 20 minutes, but of course I'm on the road at the peak of rush hour both ways.  Likewise, it takes Steve a little under an hour each way.  It's exhausting, to say the least.  And I feel like the worst dog owner in the world, which kills me.

With only about four hours of free time per day (well, 2.5-3 when you subtract the time it takes to make and eat dinner and walk the dog) it's amazing I have time to do anything else at all.  On nights when I don't force myself to go to the gym, I usually curl up in front of the TV, or with a good book.  For a while it was more often the former, but as I get used to my new job I'm left with a bit more brainpower at the end of the day, and hence more energy to commit to a book. 

The other day, I finished re-reading Metamorphosis.  It had been a long time since I'd read this quirky yet wonderful work of literature, and wow, do I ever have a different perspective on it now.  Having watched the movie The Squid and the Whale about a hundred times in the past three years, I was inclined to pay much more attention to the novella's last paragraph, which one could argue changes everything.  Having a first hand knowledge of "the daily grind" also makes the first part, where the chief clerk comes to check on Gregor at home, much funnier and more relatable. 

If you have never read Metamorphosis, I highly recommend that you seek it out as soon as possible.

I was thrilled to see that Emily Giffin was out with a new book, despite the fact that I sometimes pretend not to like her work.  Truth be told, there is NOTHING that makes my day like having a truly addictive book on the go, even if it's not "great literature."  The thing about Giffin is she is obviously a highly intelligent woman who has found a perfect niche as a writer, and how can one but respect that?  This is one of her best books so far; if  you like this kind of thing, you will love Heart of the Matter.

Steve and I have also spent quite a lot of time preparing delicious, vegan food.  I feel so much better in every way when I fuel up on this good stuff.  That's not to say that I don't indulge in some decidedly non-vegan food every now and then. (Like, for instance, a smooth, cool dish of to-die for gelato on a hot summer evening from here).

But this homemade pad thai sure hits the spot as well...it's fast becoming one of our absolute favourite meals.

A little while ago we also made our favourite vegan lasagna.  It's even better with Daiya cheese, which we were never able to get in Kingston.  See?  Living in Toronto does have its advantages after all!!

So, yeah, that in a nut shell is what I've been up to lately.  Some days have been better than others, but all in all I feel like things are on the right track.  I'm planning some pretty big changes for the future, and am working on enhancing my sense of equanimity in order to face upcoming challenges more effectively...

You complete me, oh juicer

Yeah, yeah, I know what this looks like. 

But honestly, I have every intention of using it daily. And the purchase wasn't nearly as spontaneous as you're likely assuming, dear reader. Not spontaneous at all, actually. You see, I have wanted a juicer for at least six months now. Then a few weeks ago, I was gifted Refresh (the second cookbook featuring recipes from the restaurant Fresh) by my lovely, thoughtful friend Jen. The book contains all sorts of colourful juice recipes that collectively offer to cure whatever ails ya. It was just too painful to flip through it and not have the ability to make these tasty, medicinal concoctions. 

It's true that I'd be the luckiest woman in the world if this did it for me. But owning a juicer certainly brings me one step closer to happiness.

Recalling how much I loved the beet, carrot, and apple juice from Kale, I whipped up a similar brew for our juicer's maiden run. I also threw in a little ginger. Wow, was this ever heavenly. 

Sob

I'm not sure what I'm more upset about - the fact that Federer lost, or the fact that he lost before I even had a chance to see him play in this year's French.

Yes, life has been more than a little crazy of late. On the plus side, I found these awesome images on fffound that made me remember what I'm missing. 

Wait, that's a bad thing isn't it? Well, they remind me of better days, anyway.

By the way, I'm officially cheering for Nadal now. Hopefully that won't be bad luck for him.

2-4 Deliciousness

Oh how I love the two four! The summer is without question my favourite time of year, and taking a long weekend to celebrate its unofficial beginning (along with Queen Victoria's birthday, of course!) is one of our country's finest traditions. 

I know that most people like to barbeque to celebrate the holiday, but such a task is impossible when one lives a building, as we do. Instead, Steve and I decided to try and emulate one of our favourite foods in the world -  the good ol' Urban Herbivore grain bowl!

It was a lot of work preparing all the toppings, etc, but wow was it ever worth it! The bowls included: quinoa, tomatoes, kale, artichokes, hummus, roasted petters, tempeh, grilled zucchini and eggplant, and lemon tahini dressing. Yum!

Here's Steve's....

My slightly less full but equally beautiful bowl...

Steve in an awkward but oh so endearing pose...

Of course we had to have wine!

All in all it's been a great weekend...and it's not even over yet!!! I'm off to enjoy some of this beautiful weather :)

Review: Skinny Bitch

In my review of Eating Animals, I mentioned something about how books on veg'nism need to be a little on the deceptive side if anyone other than those with veg tendencies can ever be expected to pick them up. Thus a friend recommended that I check out the book Skinny Bitch, which is just that.

I'll admit that I already had an idea of what this book was about. I've been known to stick my nose into it from time to time at Chapters, and have seen it mentioned countless times on vegan food blogs. I was always a bit turned off by the abrasive title, fearing that the book would make me feel even worse than I usually do about not being the picture of skinniness. The fact that Skinny Bitch rose to fame when Posh Spice was spotted with a copy only added to this impression.

As a result, it didn't really surprise me that the authors lay in on readers from the first page, claiming that one has to use her head about food and stay away from crap. Ok. Crap constitutes meat, dairy, and refined sugar. Sure, I'm with you. In the end, though, Skinny Bitch turns into yet another "eat less calories and exercise" routine, with a few unsettling factory farm images thrown in. Of course, I thought, since that's really the only way one can succeed at becoming a skinny bitch. 

I mean honestly, if a woman eats a thousand more calories per day than she needs, she will most certainly gain weight, even if all she eats is vegan food. Last time I checked vegan food still includes evils like sugar, chocolate, peanut butter, and french fries. Sure they tell you not to eat these things too, but then how does this diet really differ from any other? (Aside from the further restricting principle of abstaining from meat and dairy. But then most of those foods contain a lot of fat and calories too.) All these restrictions advocated for apparently different reasons render the book more than a little disjointed. Is it a diet book, or a book on veganism?

So, you need to eat fewer calories to lose weight, and factory farms are terrible places. Who could dispute those points? But then Freedman and Barnouin go and throw in all these "facts" about the evils of caffein, synthetic sweetners, etc, claiming that such foods will inadvertently make you fat. Hmmm. Maybe I just objected to this part because I know I will never, ever be able to give up coffee, and I will never, ever believe that it makes people fat.

Kudos to that authors for slamming low-no carb diets, but then they turn around and advocate fasting which to me does nothing for their credibility. True, it may turn you into a skinny bitch. (The bitch part manifesting as a result of the fact that YOU'RE STARVING.) I hate it when people claim that the headaches, nausea, etc they experience while fasting are simply their bodies detoxifying. Clearly you're sick because YOU'RE STARVING!!! 

Obviously, the content of Skinny Bitch annoyed me. I quite enjoyed the sassy, tough love writing style, but advocating common sense only to repeatedly break your own rule does not an effective book make. For a book that does a much better job of marrying veganism with a weight loss plan, see Alicia Silverstone's The Kind Diet. 

I Succumbed.

For some reason I thought Bensimon sneakers (which I've been obsessed with for some time now) were not available in Canada. Then today I was walking through the Eaton Centre, and there they were in the display window of Little Burgundy!  Well of course I just HAD to pick up a pair!! This fabulous find, together with the beautiful weather, made today the best day I've spent in a long time :)

P.S. No regrets so far!

Wall Inspiration

I love our new place, but am really displeased with the lack of any sort of decorating scheme in the bedroom. Steve and I have been discussing what we want to do with it, and were sort of leaning toward a wall of personal photos - not necessarily of people, but anything that looks nice or brings back fond memories. Then I saw this photo at Design Sponge, and realized I absolutely love the idea of mixing personal and purchased/professional pics. The randomness of sizes, colours, and layout is fabulous!

An Afternoon at Kensington

Kensington Market is one of my favourite places in all of Toronto. On a bright, sunny day like today it just BEGS to be photographed...so that's what I did :)