Even getting there felt sort of poetic, visuals full of meaning. My husband and I drove down Dundas in the rain, passing through the Junction, Little Portugal, Trinity-Bellwoods. Neighbourhoods that seemed so physically and spiritually remote when I lived in Toronto. We parked in Chinatown and walked the rest of the way through Kensington Market, a rainy warren of colour and umbrellas.
I bought a copy of Gillian’s book, and I’m having trouble putting it down. I long ago forced myself to admit I was useless at reviewing books even in the simplest terms, but suffice it to say it’s deeply satisfying. Go check it out!