The first time I lived in Toronto, I was a small child. My parents were at that awkward young professional stage of their lives, and there was much more opportunity for them in the big city than there was in their home town of Kingston. I remember liking my school, and loving the house we lived in - quaint with white siding and a huge willow tree in the backyard that had a swing on it!! My best friend, Marta, lived right down the street from us, and pretty much every family in the neighbourhood had children around my age. We never tired of climbing trees, riding bikes, and drawing pictures.
My family moved to Kingston when I was seven, and I did not return to Toronto (to live, that is) until I moved there for grad school at the age of 23. Needless to say, I saw the city from an entirely different perspective that time around. Still, the experience was extremely positive. Steve and I rented a tiny condo in the heart of downtown, and enjoyed all the amenities the city has to offer. I thought I was stressed out a lot as a student, but really I had no idea what stress was. After graduating, I found myself back in Kingston while Steve attended teachers' college at Queen's.
One hellish year ensued, followed by a slightly better one, and finally a bona fide good year, in which I refused to be a slave to the painfully limited Kingston job scene and in turn found an opportunity to pursue a career as a writer - something I had wanted to do my entire life.
Alas, things did not go quite so smoothly for Steve, who found himself stuck in a job he hated that did not use his education in any capacity. When a better opportunity came up in Toronto, he jumped at it - who can blame him? For a lot of reasons, the decision to move permanently was hard. In the end, though, I think it will be for the best. We found a beautiful place to live (off Eglington, in the Leaside neighbourhood), and there will undoubtedly be more lucrative career opportunities for me here as well.
Here are some photos of the exterior of our new place...
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