December 30: Hier

An honourable mention from yesterday:

A. Isabelle helped me take several bags to Goodwill
B. after our delicious meal of Italian veal sandwiches
C. followed by fruit (raisins, that is, in a butter tart).

December 26: Chalet

1. Petras is in town from Tokyo. He and I got together for dinner to satisfy his massive craving for Swiss Chalet.

2. Then he picked up the tab. He swears Swiss Chalet would be a roaring success overseas - anyone in head office listening?

3. A good friend was online, up late at night. We had a proper chat to catch up on affairs of the mind and matters of the heart.

It seems everyone returns to Swiss Chalet for that special sauce. I return for the coleslaw.

December 25: Dinner

1. Holiday downtime, at last, to start reflecting on the year.
2. Christmas dinner with friends whose families are far away.
3. Beautiful gift of letterpress typography, patterns and haiku.

‘The only reason for time is so that everything doesn't happen at once.’ - Albert Einstein

December 22: Dining

This was a special three-part day.

1. Matthew: My nephew and I explored Kensington Market's art galleries, butcher shops and free cheese samples.

2. Keesh: Cabs to the 'burbs and back for dinner in a place known as Ajax (and what a fabulous dinner it was).

3. Julija: Post-Eastern European pub, dining at the 24hr McDonald's (for a McSober combo, thank you very much).

December 19: Escalator

1. Table, Restaurant: Looong lunch with Ms. Heather.
2. Escalator, Subway: Chris ascended as I descended.
3. Sofabed, Apartment: Late-night Ocean's Thirteen.

December 13: Duprees

The Corporate Party:

My dinner companion shared her beef with me. (I always order salmon because it's ostensibly healthier, but as soon as beef is set on the table, I am like the family puppy.) That is my 1, 2, 3-in-one.

The Creative Party:

1. On telling the organizer I was a ‘guest of a guest’ – this was true – she replied that she appreciated my honesty, let me stay and even gave me a drink ticket.

2. A storyteller named Roger met Julia and Neil, whereupon they – all three possibly Duprees – voted on naked business cards and told each other stories.

3. At the end of the night, this to me from the remaining guests: ‘Hi, we're a bunch of straight guys and we just wanted to tell you that we totally looove your shoes.’

December 8: Calories

1. Feeling the love: film directors and learning the art of.
2. Feeling the love: grandmothers and beaming smiles from.
3. Feeling the calories: Izzy and sharing free birthday cake with.

December 7: Fridge

1. Goodbye, Miss Elena (brunch titled ‘Indian’)
2. Goodbye, Miss Vivian (linner titled ‘Japanese’)
3. Hello, Miss Jennifer (email titled ‘chocolate treats for you in the fridge’)

I love Indian food, but do not recommend it for breakfast.

December 2: Mustard

1. Trekking through freshly fallen snow with the boys early on Sunday morning in a city hugged by the white blanket of winter.

2. Journeying through carol-filled hotel foyers and salons packed with young children wired on chocolate milk and sugary sweets.

3. Laughing through lunch as Lukas repeatedly offers me a green-coloured shortbread cookie wreath, dipped in bright yellow mustard.

December 1: Ethiopian

1. Queen Street West: Doing the gallery walk, warm lights glowing from storefront galleries at twilight.

2. Queen Street West West: Gingerly picking up salad with folded bread between fingers; eating an entire meal without utensils at Addis Ababa Ethiopian restaurant. Ridiculously delicious!

3. Hollywood Boulevard: A night of raspberry sorbet and the boys of Entourage. Ouch! Hot! Jeremy Piven. Sigh...

November 25: Turtles

1. Playing Animal Yoga with my nephews after lunch. ‘Be a tree!’ [Stand tall.] What else? ‘I know! Let's be turtles!’ [Get down, curl up, tuck head into shell.] ‘Let's be bacon!’ [Lie down flat on back. Sizzle as frying pan heats up.]

2. Walking with my brother in the late afternoon. Walked right into the nail salon, where my hands and feet got some much-needed tender loving maintenance.

3. Biking with my Toque eastward at sundown, facing a full moon and a warm wind. Biked right into Izzy on Bloor Street, where we got some much-needed Linner.

November 24: Linner

1. Incredible feedback from my U of T professor and classmates.
2. Linner (lunch + dinner) with my brother and his friend David.
3. Terrific Humber performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream.

‘Things growing are not ripe until their season.’

November 17: Baking

1. My professor doesn't mind that my paper is late.
2. My friend doesn't mind dinner with my nephews.
3. My nephews don't mind the pungent smell of my Converse All Stars. They take turns smelling them. ‘My turn!’ ‘No, my turn!’ Matthew says, ‘Auntie, they smell like something for baking.’

6 noviembre: Almuerzo

1. Hora del almuerzo con mis amigos latinos.
2. Paseo en la ciudad universitaria en la tarde.
3. Tiempo en la noche para acabar mi tarea.

October 31: Hysteria

1. Arthur: tried Arthur's new Acai rainforest berry smoothie.

2. Evalyn: watched a lineup of incredible performers at Hysteria, including Evalyn Parry.

3. Julija: met the beautiful, motherly Eastern European vendor at Church and Wellesley. Halloween in the streets: enjoyed sausages in boxes.

October 29: Farmers

Oy vey, October!

I haven't fallen off the wagon. November will be a time of reflection. Didn't Ernest Hemingway say that in order to write about life, first you must live it? I've been going the way of Heming, but my blog will soon again go the way of me.

Without further ado, this mild Monday:

1. Artists: Friendly peeps, served with delicious crackers and baby carrots alongside spicy and non-spicy hummus at a kitchen roundtable.

2. Creatives: Dinner with a friendly stranger sharing his unique hyphenated name story, a free film pass and other nuggets of imagination.

3. Farmers: On the subway, conversation all the way to the west end with two sweetie-pies from St. Catherines. Who really were farmers. Who were adorable young men. Who thought I was in college. Which I'm not. Which was flattering.

October 15: Meeting

1. Meeting of the minds: kitchen table collaboration.
2. Meeting of acquaintances: restaurant dialogues.
3. Meeting of the hearts: old classmates catch up.

October 13: Lunch

No breakfast.

Lunch #1 with teacher was served with charm.
Lunch #2 with student was served with delight.
Lunch #3 with nephew was served with wonder.

No dinner.

October 5: Licked?

How will this adventure end? So far:

1. Strength: The contractor asks me if I'm going to ‘behave myself’ at Home Depot. God gives me strength to resist harsh retaliation (since I don't want any, either). I ask God to please send feminists into this man's life immediately.

2. Story: I buy the contractor and his son lunch. The contractor tells the tale of his brother, who would only visit when their mom baked her famous chocolate cake. He'd never call; he never knew. It just happened to be on those exact days that he'd pop in.

3. Plate: The contractor demonstrates what he used to do back in the day, way back when, who-knows-where: turn the plate over onto the placemat. Either he licked it clean or I will never have to do another dish so long as he eats at my table.

October 3: Slammin’

My friend runs a travellers' hostel, where I met her for lunch. Hostels are where it's at.

1. Salad: Fresh vegetables from Kensington Market.
2. Speech: Fresh conversation from Spain, Japan, Israel.
3. Slammin': As in, Mmm, Fresh Slammin' Hotties!