I bet Shakespeare had no idea he had penned a quote for us to use during this pandemic. But it sure comes in handy when you are planning anything these days. Just ask restaurant owners. “Will you be opening up to full indoor capacity any time soon?” Ask the school kids. “Will your school be closing any time soon?” And ask the travel agents around the world. “Will it be safe to travel any time soon?”

Peter and I are avid travelers. We have climbed Mount Fiji, walked along the Great Wall of China, sailed down the Amazon, visited every continent except Antarctica. Our last trip was to the Galapagos Islands back in November 2019. You can imagine that we, like so many others, have itchy feet these days.

When things appeared to be looking up last November, we booked a trip to Portugal. It was with a hiking company, the same small business owners who took us to the Galapagos. (I wrote about that trip in a post on November 26, 2019). We had originally booked the Portugal trip before the pandemic and we were scheduled to go on March 14, 2020. Well guess what happened the day before – March 13, 2020? Lockdown!

This past November things seemed to be looking good so we signed up for Portugal again – for March 2022. There were lots of considerations, mostly having to do with insurance. But we started to get excited about having a break from snow, and a chance to explore a new (for us) country. Portugal is a winter destination for many Canadians because of the warm weather and the relatively inexpensive lifestyle. We thought it might be an alternative to Florida in the coming years, especially if You Know Who gets elected again.

Then Omicron hit the scene. We watched in shock as the infection numbers started going up and businesses started closing down. Portugal became one of the hot spots in Europe. Our final payment deadline for the trip approached – January 10. What to do?

Then the hiking company sent a timely message – our final payment deadline had been moved to – TODAY! February 8. Relief…. except…we still had the same questions, only delayed a few weeks. Would the flight be cancelled before the trip, due to staff shortages? If it went, how would we manage to breathe for 7-plus hours in our N95 masks? If we got sick in Portugal, (not a simple question at our age), would there be room in the hospitals for us?

Although our trip would focus on an outdoor activity, hiking, what about restaurants? Would we have to do take-out in our hotel rooms? On our days off, would tourist attractions be open or would we just have to wander around by ourselves? And, most important, would there be Shopping??? We spent a lot of time pacing and worrying. To be in Portugal or not to be, that was the question.

A few days ago we opened our email and there it was – a message from the hiking company: IMPORTANT UPDATE! We held our breath: The Portugal trip had been cancelled. A huge wave of relief swept over us. We weren’t going, and somebody else had decided for us. The perfect ending.

Except… Now we are trip-less! If you know of any safe Canadian place to go without too much risk, please send a comment. Quick.

Sue

PS Sorry there are no images of Portugal to share with you.

On our recent Friday excursion, Peter and I decided to do something to celebrate. But the weather outside was chilly – minus 14. We got up early to get dressed. It takes a while to put on thermal undies, two pairs of socks, mittens, scarves, warm boots, heavy jackets, and hats. We also wore our N95 masks – not only for covid protection bot also to keep our cheeks warm.

Finally we were ready! We hopped on the subway and then took a bus, going west along Queen St to Augusta Ave where we got off and walked north through Kensington Market. I had never been to Kensington Market before. The description of Kensington as a bohemian, vibrant, diverse neighbourhood had me intrigued. I was not disappointed. The boutique stores sell fruits and vegetables, sex toys, tattoo services, flowers, cannabis, vintage clothes, and baked goods. Something for everyone!

The neighbouhood has gone through many iterations since its beginning in the 1920’s. In 2006 it was named a National Historic Site with bylaws such as building height restrictions, meant to keep it as a city treasure. Artists and writers make their home there, and tourists come from all over the world to walk its streets. It’s a far cry from the early Jewish Market where new immigrants displayed produce from hand carts in front of their homes, and where chickens roamed freely until they were sold.

As Peter and I strolled along, we came across a CTV news journalist who was soliciting opinions about Covid. We stopped and Peter stepped in front of the mic. He was only to happy to describe our life since Covid: unable to travel outside of the country, we have spent countless hours exploring the city’s neighbourhoods on foot. Kensington Market is just one of them.

After Peter’s tv debut, we continued north along Augusta Ave to College and our final destination – the new T& T store on College Street.

T&T is a chain of supermarkets that is familiar to us because some of our kids shop there. T&T, named after the founder’s two daughters, Tina and Tiffany, was started in 1993 by Cindy Lee who wanted to provide familiar quality ingredients for Asian people. Her flagship store is in Burnaby BC, and there are 26 other Canadian stores now, 3 of them in the GTA.

The new store was decorated with bright Chinese lanterns and shelves of New Years gifts such as gold “lucky money.” We were looking for noodles and found an entire aisle devoted to them: flat, curly, vermicelli, rice, stick, air-dried, seasoned, and more. We stared in awe at the produce, many products like lettuce root unfamiliar to us. We tried to count the different kids of soy sauce and lost track.

Then we found the hot table and decided it was time for our Chinese New Year lunch. After filling our plastic containers with vegetables, pork ribs, fish balls, and of course noodles, we looked for a place to eat. Oops – no in-store dining! We were directed to the store entrance one floor below, where we found a counter and stood beside it to eat.

Then Peter started to get anxious. He hurried to find a garbage can and then quickly re-dressed in hat, scarf, gloves and coat. He eagerly led me towards the subway and home. When we arrived, he sat down in front of the TV, and turned on the CTV news. And there he was – hardly recognizable in his mask and Russian Cossack hat. His speech had been edited to about one sentence. But hey, it was fame!

Gong Hey Fat Choy everyone.

Sue

Sometimes, when we’re stuck inside due to snow storms or freezing temperatures, our minds wander forward to summer. We can’t help ourselves!

As I have written on this blog before, Peter and I love to spend summer days sitting on the lake in our kayak, a kayak that is now hanging, sad and lonely, in the garage. We see it every time we take the car out, and it reminds us that summer is ahead sometime. Recently we also noticed, as we drove across the Gardiner Expressway, a bright red canoe perched on the Toronto skyline. What is that red canoe doing there? Is it waiting for summer too?

One day last week we decided to investigate. We fond the place, called “Canoe Landing Park,” (2009), situated on a piece of land just east of Fort York. The canoe is labelled “Tom Thompson Canoe.” Tom Thompson would never ride in this boat. For one thing, it has a concrete base and a door in the side so tourists can climb in. It is definitely not water-proof. But it sits high up above the Gardiner, staring longingly towards Lake Ontario.

There are other water-related items in this park. Beside the canoe are a couple of white boxes, named “iceberg benches” keeping with the water theme. Just looking at them made us cold. We didn’t even try sitting. A sculptural version of a beaver dam is also near the canoe: a concrete semi-circle, filled with water, and shrubs nearby. It seems to be expecting some lost beavers to come along and stat gnawing.

Another art installation is named “Bobber Plaza.” Brightly coloured fishing floats, ie bobbers, stand tall, but hide sprinkler heads beneath. During the summer this plaza becomes a water park. Bobber Plaza, along with the canoe, the benches, and the beaver dam, was created by Canadian actor, novelist, and artist, Douglas Coupland.

Copland, who just celebrated his 60th birthday, has written for several prestigious publications, including the New York Times, has twice been a finalist for the Giller prize, and has created several notable art installations, especially in Vancouver. You might know the digital orca on Vancouver’s shoreline near the Convention Centre. If you want to see another of Coupland’s works, just walk about 2 blocks west from the canoe along Fort York Blvd, to find his monument to the War of 1812.

Canoe Landing Park takes on added significance in September because it is a memorial to Terry Fox too. A map shows the route of the “Miracle Mile” – 2 laps of the path equal one mile. Walkers and runners are asked to keep in mind that Terry Fox completed 3,339 of those miles! The path is marked by little red leaves along the side, and billboards with photos of things that Terry valued while on his journey. At the beginning of this path, visitors can find a touchstone, topped with a heart-shaped rock, which was picked up by Terry’s brother at the site where Terry ended his walk over 40 years ago.

Our visit to this unique park did not make summer come any sooner, but it cheered us up to see art work inspired by Canadian icons, and that red canoe waiting there, so full of hope.

Sue

Recently a reader, living in Italy, asked “How do you Canadians manage to cope with winter?” Well, after living through the latest cold snap, followed by a big dump of snow yesterday, that question is probably on everybody’s mind. How DO we do it?

Here’s what I’ll tell her: First of all, we have 2 of everything: 2 sets of clothes, 2 books of recipes, 2 groups of activities. In the winter we abandon shorts and sandals, and switch to cute furry ear muffs, boots with traction, mittens instead of gloves, and cozy thermal underwear. We also make good use of all the spare geese around by turning them into goose down duvets and coats, so expensive that there are armed guards outside Canada Goose stores.

When it’s really cold we even wear some of these clothes to bed! (Well not the boots). It becomes automatic- allowing extra time in the mornings and evenings to get dressed and undressed. We also spend extra time in the bathroom – untucking and pulling down, then pulling up and tucking in – all those layers.

Our eating habits change in the winter too. We cover up the BBQ, and switch to hot soups and stews. One favourite ,chili, can really be quite hot with lots of spice. We don’t make winter visits to ice cream vendors; instead we go to the coffee shop and order hot chocolate. Our alcohol habits change from icy margaritas with little paper umbrellas, to hot toddies with cinnamon sticks.

We are trained to take care of our health in the winter. No insect repellant needed. Instead, we cover our bodies with moisturizer to prevent dry, itchy skin. We usually amp up our vitamin C intake and make sure to get our flu shot.

As for ” What do we do with all that time between December and March?” Instead of fluffy beach reads, we switch to longer serious tomes well suited to sitting near a cozy fire. Outside, we put on our high-traction boots and go for a walk in the snow, sometimes stopping to make a snowball and aim it at an unsuspecting partner. If we are feeling really childish, we lie down and make snow angels.

For the more athletic types, there is snow-shoeing in the woods, skiing downhill or cross-country, and curling or playing hockey. There is also a new sport – winter golf – making the scene. The little white balls are exchanged for bright orange-red ones, visible on a snow-covered fairway. And then there is skating.

I wrote about skating in my last post. It seems that skating was a winter activity in the past lives of many of us. One reader wrote to tell us that the reason skaters prefer to travel in a counter-clockwise direction is because it’s easier to turn left than right when on skates. Who knew? Another reader wrote about a vivid memory of her mother sending her out in skates that were too small and hurt her toes, maybe permanently. A third reader shared memories of being a teenager and skating, but mostly looking to meet boys, on the weekends. One more reader wrote to say she had been an avid ice dancer in her youth. Another reader sent pictures of 2 outdoor rinks made by her 2 sons for their kids. Both boys had grown up with their own rinks made by their father every winter.

And that’s how we Canadians manage to live through the winter months. Despite the added burdens of Covid this year, most of our winter activities can still take place. And we have the advantage of Zoom and other online activities when we have to stay inside. We Can Do This!

And now I am going outside to make some snow angels.

Sue

Recently a loyal reader suggested I write about places to skate in Toronto. This seemed a little awkward because I haven’t skated since I was in grade 8. Along with other girls in my class, I used to go to the arena on Saturdays – not to skate, mind you – but to meet boys! At this point I don’t know where my skates are. But I remember they are white with blue furry covers and little tassels on the laces. Very flirty.

As for Peter’s skating history, he is much more athletic them I am, but he hasn’t skated lately either. The last time was when our grand daughter Agnes, who was about 7 at the time, took him to the local arena and, well, let’s just say she was better.

Anyway, despite these disadvantages, I started doing some research. Did you know that Toronto is the World Capital of mechanically-cooled outdoor rinks? We have 60 of them. That’s pretty…ah…cool! Many of them are just rectangular neighbourhood ice pads, with fences and maybe a couple of benches where you can sit to change your footwear. There are a few with washrooms and some serve hot chocolate.

Then there is the iconic skating rink at Nathan Phillips Square. It has all the extras – washrooms, skate rentals, a snack bar, lighting and music. It also has crowds. Another ice rink, one that is new this winter, has popped up on Front Street. it is not so fancy, but it has a view of two Toronto landmarks – Union Station and the Royal York Hotel. It also has chair apparatuses for adults learning to skate.

Next I decided to check out a couple of “skating trails.” Instead of rectangular rinks where you go around and around, usually counter-clockwise for some unknown reason, skating trails meander somewhere, for example, through the woods. The first one we visited was Sam Smith Park on a Humber College campus near Lake Ontario. Peter joined me on a dreary, drizzly day and we were actually surprised to see skaters and ice! We watched as they glided through the trees, in time to piped-in music. Then the skaters noticed us and yelled “Where are your skates?” We smiled and headed back to the car.

On another day we went to The Bentway. This trail is situated under the Gardiner Expressway, on land that really isn’t good for much else. On the day we went to watch, there were 100 skaters on the ice and about 50 more waiting in line. The music blared out as the skaters followed the 220-meter trail around and about. An art show is advertised, but we didn’t see any sign of it on that day.

One of the most popular places to skate in the city is High Park, where there is an outdoor rink. But there is also Grenadier Pond. This pond used to be marked by flags indicating the ice thickness and relative safety, and was very popular. But there were a couple of accidents where skaters ignored flags and suffered the consequences. So now the pond is off-limits to skaters, frozen or not.

Which brings me to the point that skating is not the safest activity for our time. Even as an outdoor activity which can cut down the risk of covid germs, there is still danger. The ice could melt or, even worse for us older adults, we could slip and fall. Just ask the loyal reader who suggested this topic – she had a spill recently and is down to one arm for a while. So stay safe out there! Maybe just buy some hot chocolate and enjoy the view.

Sue

Last year around this time, I wrote about Finding Joy in January. I must have been high on something when I thought up that topic! At least the days are getting longer. With Covid still here, more daylight is really all you can say that’s good about this month.

This year Peter and I managed to have a small gathering on New Year’s Eve. The guests stayed till about 1:00 am – we were so happy to be together! The next morning, New Year’s Day, I was so pumped up from the party that I woke up early. Then I woke Peter up to tell him about the adventure I had planned for us. He didn’t seem too excited, especially when I mentioned wearing bathing suits. But he agreed to go.

I have told you, in some past posts, about how I spent my childhood swimming in Lake Ontario. Since moving to the city, I have tried to go back into the lake during the summer. Too cold…brrr! So the polar bear dip on New Year’s Day has always intrigued me. How could people actually Do that? I decided this was the year to find out.

Peter and I put on our outfits, grabbed our hot coffee, and set out. We drove to the waterfront and parked. Then we walked the last kilometer to Sunnyside beach. We didn’t see any other swimmers in bathing suits. But we did see some groups of young people rushing along, laughing hysterically and carrying bags and backpacks. Could these be other potential swimmers?

As we approached Sunnyside Beach, we did not see the huge crowds from newscasts of previous years. But there were some other old people like us, standing with cameras and phones, not wearing bathing suits, waiting for somebody else to create the kodak moments. In fact, there were far more spectators than swimmers! We found a good spot and waited. Soon younger people began to gather in groups, still laughing – a kind of nervous laugh – as they began to strip down. I asked Peter if it was time…

Then the first group of swimmers assembled for photographs. Was this a swimsuit competition or a group hug? Or was it just a case of safety in numbers? The swimmers let out a yelp and headed for the water. We noticed they were holding hands. They were all in this together – no escaping. As they hit the water, there was a lot of squealing. They splashed around for about 15 seconds and then exited the lake as quickly as they had entered, racing towards their towels.

The next group had their turn. This time the shrieks were punctuated with screams of “Why Am I Doing This??” Nobody answered – they were all too numb with cold. We watched them emerge and dress at warp speed. Slowly their shivering stopped and one person exclaimed: “Wow that was fun!”

Really? Immersing yourself in ice cubes is a fun way to start the new year? But now it was our turn. We looked at each other…and smiled. Somehow we had left our bathing suits at home! For us, just getting up and walking by the lake on a chilly day was enough fun. Time to go home again and warm up with another coffee. At least we had gotten some exercise. Now we could sit down and figure out another, less daunting, way to get into the swim of things in January.

Sue

Urged on by warnings of supply chain shortages, I did my Christmas shopping early this year. Wearing my N95 mask and armed with my booster shot, I braved the malls and grabbed up appropriate gifts. When stymied by stores, I went online and snagged other gifts. Then I hit the pet stores and got some squeaky toys and cow bones for the 4 grand-dogs. Finally I was finished. Or so I thought.

Then last week, when grand daughter Agnes (in New Zealand) and I were having our weekly facetime meeting, she stumped me with this: “Nana what are you getting Missy and Sissy for their Christmas gifts?” Missy and Sissy are Agnes’s pet mice that we are babysitting while she is away. I hadn’t even had them on my shopping list. Silly me!

I went back to the pet store and roamed up and down the aisles. Since I had never shopped for mice before, I had a hard time. What size did they wear? I quickly gave up on the clothing idea because they don’t even like to be petted, never mind dressed! And they have lots of food treats, so much so that one of them is getting a little chubby. So no food gifts. Agnes is always telling me they have to be entertained in their cage, so I figured a new toy would be good. I settled on a set of tubes. They already had one short tube and it is a big hit. The new ones can be put together in many random shapes.

I thought this was a good gift because Agnes, via facetime, could help me design a structure with the tubes. I took the current toys out of the mouse cage, lined up the new tubes on the dining room tale, and waited for Agnes to call. Meanwhile Peter was not impressed. As a little boy, he got very few gifts from Santa. And here we were buying toys for mice! But he dearly loves Agnes and he agreed to help with the set-up.

Agnes was delighted with the new toy. Eagerly, she began instructing us on the best tube configuration while I held the ipad and Peter connected the tubes. Finally the structure was ready. We carefully loaded it into the cage and waited. Slowly and cautiously the mice emerged from their hutch and ventured out to see. They sniffed around a bit and then went back to bed. Imagine!

Pretty soon Agnes got bored and went off to practise her Christmas songs on the piano. Then it was time to say good-bye. But not until I had promised to be on 24-hour watch, ready with my phone to take a video of Missy and Sissy using their new gift. This turned out to be a bigger promise than I had expected. Those mice avoided their new toy for days.

But finally, one night when I was reading a book nearby, I sensed movement. There was Sissy, the shy one, entering the first tube. I grabbed my phone and began following her. She toured the whole structure from beginning to end, and then she turned around and went back the other way. Then Missy, not to be outdone by her sister, headed down the first tube. This video was turning into a full-length movie!

So I am happy to report that Missy and Sissy had a good Christmas. I hope you did too, dear readers. I’ll be back with another post next year.

Sue

PS Unfortunately, this platform does not support videos so you’ll have to wait for the Academy Awards to see it.

Well, dear readers, it’s tempting to write about Omicron, that Covid variant that is taking over our lives, once again. But honestly, do you really want to read about That? Wouldn’t we all rather go for a walk in the forest somewhere and pretend that Covid doesn’t exist?

Trees are so majestic, and yet so comforting! They provide homes for birds, and tiny mammals. Some of them give us food – maple syrup, chestnuts, and other edibles. They supply oxygen to the planet. And at Christmas, trees create a focal point in our public spaces and in our homes. So I decided to take a look around the city to see what trees can offer us this holiday season.

I started with a trip downtown. Here are the Christmas trees at Toronto City Hall and (the tallest), the Eaton Centre:

These decorated trees are in place to make us feel festive. But I wanted to dig a little deeper and find some more meaningful trees. I found them in a heritage building in Mississauga. The small Arms Inspection Building was designed in 1940 and used as a munitions plant during World war II. In 1974 it was given a heritage designation and now hosts many arts and cultural events.

One such event this year was the “Festival Of Trees.” Just inside the front door is an eye-catching one called the Mother Tree. Over 300 strands of wood, plastic, burlap, beads, shells and other found materials created by over 200 artists, hang down and form roots, symbolic of the connections that trees have to the earth, and that people have to nature.

Another stunning tree was called Twice Blessed, a lacy creation made from men’s cast-off white work shirts, cut into delicate branches and leaves. This tree is a reminder of how often we discard barely-worn clothing that could be re-purposed – into something beautiful.

A third creation that caught my attention was Diversitree, a tree whose boughs are covered with garments from various donors of diverse backgrounds. When the show finishes, the garments will be removed and donated to a local charity.

Another gorgeous installation was an entire forest of trees, titled We Remember. This installation focuses on Covid and how we are all cocooning – one of the life stages of butterflies – as we wait for the end of the disease. At the same time, we remember all the loved ones we have lost. Visitors are invited to write the name of a deceased friend or family member on a paper butterfly, and add it to a branch.

And so we are talking about Covid after all. Please try to celebrate the holidays in whatever way feels safe. Gather around your Christmas tree if you have one, or visit a local forest. And think positive thoughts about all the good things in our lives.

Sue

I have talked a lot about presents recently, but I haven’t yet told you about the gift that Peter recently received…a gift that keeps on giving.

You may recall reading about our ongoing battle with the squirrels in our back yard. I’ve written before about Peter’s Herculean efforts to keep the squirrels out of the bird feeder, to no avail. I was really worried that he might be ready to get out his slingshot.

Our bird feeder was an eclectic one – a wooden device on a home-made platform on a pole. It wasn’t beautiful but the birds didn’t seem to mind. They gathered in groups, according to their pecking order; cardinals, jays and sparrows, all having a feast. The squirrels didn’t mind either and would scurry up the pole and onto the platform where they would eat their fill, and then hop off, leaving the feeder empty.

Peter tried valiantly to keep the squirrels away, He got a baffle for the pole but the squirrels figured out how to climb around it. Then he tried lowering the baffle. The squirrels began taking flying leaps from the swing, so he moved the feeder farther out into the back yard. Then they began flying from the magnolia tree, so he moved the feeder again. After they conquered that leap, he greased the pole and lowered he baffle even more. Those clever rodents even navigated the greased pole and the baffle, where they sat on top and reached up overhead to grab the platform and climb up. Peter was apoplectic.

As a last resort, I consulted the internet. And there, at Lee Valley, was the perfect bird feeder – “Squirrel resistant”! As Christmas was almost here, I ordered the feeder and it arrived just a few days ago. Peter was skeptical. How could any bird feeder possibly work, after all the deterrents he had tried? He set up the feeder anyway, on the pole, and admired the concept – the birds were supposed to sit on a bar and reach into the feeder for the seeds. But, if a squirrel sat on the bar, its weight would push the bar down and a little metal plate would also come down and cover up the bird food. A great idea, in principle.

Peter set up the pole, filled the new feeder with high-quality bird food, and we sat down near the window to watch. Soon a curious squirrel came by, and climbed up the pole to take a look. He jumped on the bar and “wham!” the plate slammed down and covered up the seeds. The squirrel lept down and ran away into the neighbour’s lot. We were delighted!

But where were the birds? We reasoned that they needed a few hours to find the new feeder and discover its contents. So we waited. And waited. NO birds arrived. Peter found an old feeder we had in storage, and he put it on top of the new one. Maybe the birds would recognize it and then notice the new one down below. Nope – nothing. What good was a bird feeder without birds?

We were contemplating another trip to Lee Valley to return the new feeder when suddenly – a cardinal landed. And he ate some seeds! Then his wife joined him. But nobody else. We held our breath. The next day we checked but it was snowing and no birds were flying. We waited some more. And then, like a Christmas gift, the birds came. Sparrows and jays joined the cardinals. And the squirrels looked up with envy.

I can also report that occasionally the squirrels still try to outsmart the feeder. They climb up, check the bottom of the feeder for holes, and sometimes even try to pry off the roof. Then they jump down, shaking their little heads in confusion.

May you find a useful gift in your Christmas stocking too.

Sue

On one of our Friday excursions Peter and I went north to Thornhill. We have visited this area several times because my son lives there. From our perspective, it was a sweet little place with some good restaurants and our grand-dog Venus. We didn’t know it had such interesting heritage or such brilliant holiday charm.

Thornhill is a community divided between 2 municipal governments – 2 wards in the city of Vaughan, and 1 in Markham. There is no city hall and no area defined as downtown. Some residents might say that Yonge Street is the main street, while others would argue that the hub of the community is at Bayview and John Streets, where the community centre, housing an arena, a pool, banquet facilities, and the library, is located.

Despite being a divided community with no hub, Thornhill certainly has a storied past. Community leaders have a strong heritage commitment. They have worked hard to identify heritage buildings with plaques, and they have moved several buildings rather than tear them down. They also believe in re-purposing buildings. For example, a main street paint store, Thornhill Paint Supplies, was built in 1850 as a family home. Many of these historic gems are protected under the heritage preservation act.

Thornhill’s founding father, Benjamin Thorne, arrived from England in the 1820’s and began gathering up properties. He built a grist mill, a saw mill, a tannery, and, of course, a Post Office. The village, which had been founded in 1794, got the boost it needed from Thorne, and flourished. Although Thorne eventually declared bankruptcy and shot himself, he is considered a hero. A monument to him stands outside the library.

One of Thornhill’s local characters is referred to as Holy Ann. She was an Irish servant girl believed to have miraculous powers. It was understood that she could coax water from a well during a dry spell. You can see a replica of this well in “Answell (aka Ann’s well) Park.” A replica of her prayer shed is also onsite. Ann’s home has been moved from its original location to a side street where it still stands. Ann herself left town in a box, and is buried in Toronto’s Mount Pleasant cemetery.

Probably the most famous resident was Group Of Seven artist, J.E.H Macdonald. He moved to Thornhill with his family in 1912 where he eventually bought a house at 121 Centre Street. It’s here that he created one of his most famous paintings, The Tangled Garden, in 1916. Critics panned the piece because they said it was a huge canvas for such a mundane subject – a garden. One critic said it looked like a tomato salad! This painting now holds a place of prominence at the National Art Gallery in Ottawa. The gardens at Macdonald’s house are open to the public.

What is Thornhill doing to celebrate Christmas? Since there is no city hall, there is no village Christmas tree. But a Christmas gem can be found on a neighbourhood street, Wild Cherry Lane. Here visitors can experience an incredible light show, put on by a group of neighbours. Martin Lindsay, the inspiration behind the show, began his lighting career at the age of 9 when he and his brother, Andrew, began hanging lights on their big front-yard evergreen tree. In 2000 they created a major tourist attraction when they built their first computerized display. The light show has since moved to its current location, Wild Cherry Lane, and 9 families now work together to create and oversee the display of more than 120,000 lights. Donations from visitors all go to local charities.

If you have any spare time over the holidays, head north to explore this diverse and interesting community.

Sue