Today marks the centennial anniversary of the birth of my grandma, my mom’s mom. She died too soon, 6 weeks before her 55th birthday, 6 and a half weeks before my 1st. I grew up in the shadow of my family’s grief, with a profound sense of longing I still struggle to put into words. I have yearned for a presence, and it saddens and frustrates me that one will never manifest in physical form.

I have sought to know my grandma through my mom’s memories, and I have visited and revisited those stories over decades, seeking contours, depth and changes in otherwise pat narratives.

I began diving into my genealogy 5 years ago, searching for traces of my grandma in public records such as her birth registration, census data, city directories, voter lists, and newspaper mentions. The data is too flat to tell me much more than I already know.

I have asked aloud and on paper questions whose answers I thought I’d never know:
What were you like as a child?
What were your hopes and dreams?
Who was your family?
Which was your favourite brother?
Who held you, nurtured you, and championed you?
Who did you love?
How do I get close to you?

The resounding answer to the last question is to reconnect with the people my grandma left behind.

Since taking those steps toward reconnection, I’ve received surprising responses to my other questions through unexpected media and channels. In the last few years, my family has uncovered pictures of my grandma as a girl and young adult.

Last Thanksgiving, a letter written by my grandma to her grandma popped out of my mom’s pared down archive. My mom swore she’d never seen the letter before. My grandma’s words offer a bridge to the older members of her family, people I’ve only known through cold records on Ancestry dot com. The letter offered insight into my grandma’s adolescent values, preoccupations, and relationships. Her poem makes me laugh.

I read my grandma’s words to her grandma from the distance of 84 years. My grandma writes to her grandma from a distance of 800 kilometers and years of familial estrangement. A legacy of five generations of disconnected women brought together by the act of reading and writing across time and space.

I’ve been learning the language of signs and how to interpret them, a comfort if nothing more. Lately I’ve noticed that cardinals pay visits when I spend time with my mom and aunt in uncharacteristic places.

New Brunswick has been a thin place for me as well. Last year on the first day of fall, I spotted an empty tin of Export ‘A’ tobacco. The vendor, who looked like the lit end of a half-smoked cigarette, also tried to sell me an empty tin of Player’s cigarettes.

“Export ‘A’ is the brand that killed my dad,” I said as I exchanged cash for souvenir. “This tin has sentimental value.”

An hour later, I ventured onto a beach littered with more crab shells than I’ve seen in my whole life.

My phone pinged. My sister thanking me for being present during a recent hard time. She inherited our grandma’s red hair. I got our grandma’s curls. Both of us got her sensitive skin.

It only occurred to me later when I was recounting my day that I received three messages: Player’s was my grandma’s cigarette of choice, a contributing factor to her untimely death; the crab is the astrological sign under which both my grandma and I were born; the timing of the text from my sister, our grandma’s namesake, was auspicious.

On my last birthday, I was explicit about asking for a sign. I was sitting in one of my local parks in the early afternoon, and, by coincidence or not, I spotted a frolicking beauty. The sighting of this curly ginger dog, with hair like my grandma, brightened my day.

The irregular curve of Niagara Street, the string of bay and gable row houses, and the the CN Tower’s dramatic rise foregrounded by an impressive Victorian factory complex all provided a fresh perspective that took my breath away.

The lockdown years led me to discover that five generations of my ancestors called this neighbourhood home. I feel called to learn more about the environment that nurtured them.

Ghost signs and heritage architecture tell of a history of lumber yards and planing mills; manufacturers of stink and pollution, and a coffin factory; displaced residents, a buried creek, and a community garden under threat by development.

From an ancient waterway to a military outpost, from a transit corridor to an industrial and later creative hub, Garrison Common has been home to diverse communities from all over the world, representing transformations within the City of Toronto on both a micro and macro level.

As I promised the guests who walked and talked with me, here are the tour highlights, along with my research links and source materials. Feel free to add your own in the comments!

These books provide a glimpse of the area’s ancient history, the various Indigenous groups that call the area home, and the garrison character still visible today.

A Treaty Guide for Torontonians, by Talking Treaties Collective
Sacred Feathers, by Donald B. Smith
Historic Fort York, by Carl Benn
Fort York: Stories from the Birthplace of Toronto, ed. Adrian Gamble
Stanley Barracks, by Aldona Sendzikas
Lost Breweries of Toronto, by Jordan St. John
Toronto to 1918, by J.M.S. Careless
A City In the Making: People, Progress and Peril in Victorian Toronto, by Frederick H. Armstrong
City of York: A Local History
Commemorating Canada, by Cecelia Morgan (not pictured)

The following books are invaluable in understanding the so-called hinterland, the treaties that govern them, and settler impacts on Indigenous lands:

Michi Saagiig Nishnaabeg: This Is Our Territory, Gidigaa Migizi (Doug Williams)
Mississauga Portraits, Donald B. Smith
Where Histories Meet, Victoria Freeman
From This Year Hence: A History of the Township of Toronto Gore, 1818-1967, George Tavender
Across the Waters, Frances Hoffman and Ryan Taylor
Transatlantic Upper Canada, Kevin Hutchings
Jackson’s Point, Jeanne Hopkins
Ghost Towns of Ontario’s Cottage Country, Andrew Hind
HTO: Toronto’s Water from Lake Iroquois to Lost Rivers to Low-flow Toilets, eds. Wayne Reeves and Christina Palassio

Books I’ve read tangentially related to the Garrison Common, the time period I cover in the tour (1840s-1970s), and/or the city’s industrial development:

Liberty Street, Heather Marshall
Clara At the Door With a Revolver, Carolyn Whitzman
Suburb, Slum, and Urban Village, Carolyn Whitzman
The Massey Murder, Charlotte Gray
The Villages Within, Doug Taylor
Toronto’s Lost Villages, Ron Brown
Toronto Book of Love, Adam Bunch
In Mixed Company, Julia Roberts

The books that launched my ancestor research journey

The Ward, eds.
The Ward Uncovered, eds.

Further Essential Reading

The Knowing, Tanya Talaga

THE TOUR

Robinson Cottages
Some of the houses built in the 1850s for retired soldiers, still standing today. These were not on the tour only because walking to them would have been too long a segue.
https://losttoronto2.wordpress.com/tag/garrison-houses/

Garrison Crossing bridge
https://dtah.com/work/fort-york-garrison-crossing

Immigrant Sheds

Railways
The 1850s ushered in a transportation boom with the opening of the railways. The shoreline was filled in south of Front Street to accommodate rail lines and commercial and industrial development followed.

City of York: A Local History
Ch 5 Railways and Transportation

Wellington Destructor
Opened in 1925 to incinerate the west end’s garbage.

https://www.toronto.ca/news/wellington-destructor-site-on-way-to-becoming-a-community-hub/

https://createto.ca/projects/wellington-destructor

The fight over the location of municipal destructors:

https://torontoshaped.wordpress.com/2021/11/01/destructors/

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/wellington-destructor-toronto-1.4085760

Western Cattle Market and Annex
Currently an open field. The market would eventually relocate to the Union Stockyards in the Junction.

Fort York: Stories from the Birthplace of Toronto
”Lowing in the Wind: When Packing Houses Surrounded Fort York”

City of York: A Local History
Ch 7 Industry related to livestock and abattoirs

Massey-Harris-Ferguson
The largest manufacturer of farm equipment and machinery in the world. A sprawling factory complex stretching from Strachan to Shaw, approximately, before the plant was shut down at this location in 1982.

John B. Smith & Sons
A merchant who sold lumber and operated a planing mill in the adjacent building. Smith & Sons also denuded swaths of forests in Central and Northern Ontario, and polluted the waterways with their sawmill operations.

Fort York: Stories from the Birthplace of Toronto

Read here about reforestation initiatives in Simcoe County, including the most devastated areas: Angus, Tosorontio
https://simcoe.ca/explore/forests/about-the-simcoe-county-forest/forest-history/

Here’s a brief history of Lake Nipissing:
https://www.memquisitlodge.net/Lake-Nipissing

The Strachan House
Former site of John B. Smith & Sons planing mill, it was converted to supportive housing in the 1990s:
https://www.fortyork.ca/images/newsletters/fife-and-drum-2011/fife-and-drum-mar-2011.pdf

These historic Toronto apartments have been vacant since a sinkhole, fire and sewage forced out tenants. Can it be brought back to life? (Toronto Star, May 12, 2025)
https://archive.ph/oRgN9#selection-4363.26-4363.162

For a view inside the Strachan House
https://lga-ap.com/portfolio/strachan-house/

A similar fate for the Palace Arms (corner of King and Shaw):
https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/toronto-s-king-street-castle-is-no-more-and-locals-aren-t-happy-about-it-1.7488566

The Garrison Flats Community Garden
Under threat of destruction as development plans move forward for the site. Check out the Niagara Neighbourhood Now Facebook Group for community updates:
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100067150710454

Petition to save Garrison Flats Community Garden:
https://www.change.org/p/save-garrison-flats-preserve-toronto-s-historic-community-garden-and-wildlife-habitat

83 Walnut Avenue
Former site of Walnut Studios, where I spent countless hours scheming, having fun and developing feminist art programming.

Walnut Studios Fire, May 2018
https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/walnut-studios-fire-1.4671870

Walnut Studios Artists Relocate (many to 888 Dupont)
https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/toronto/walnut-studios-fire-move-1.4676849

888 Dupont’s storied legacy:
https://torontolife.com/deep-dives/the-wildest-stories-from-the-legendary-888-dupont-art-squat/

Current occupant of 83 Walnut
https://newsystems.ca/newstadium

Old York Tavern
https://www.blogto.com/eat_drink/2021/06/old-york-bar-toronto/

165 Tecumseth, local businesses
J’rew Creations, patties (Jaime and Andrew)
https://www.westendphoenix.com/stories/todays-special-callaloo-patties

Just Be Woodsy (occasional popup)
I ambled into one of their popups around the time I was first researching John B. Smith. Just Be Woodsy’s work is beautiful and I really appreciate how they repurpose down trees from the area, and add the coordinates of where the trees once stood.
https://www.justbewoodsy.com/blogs/news/our-story-becoming-woodsy

The Coffin Factory Lofts / National Casket Company

City of Toronto Alteration Agreement (includes information about the history and heritage significance of the buildings)
https://www.toronto.ca/legdocs/mmis/2019/te/bgrd/backgroundfile-140206.pdf

Funeral for the Coffin Factory Lofts, March 2019
https://nowtoronto.com/culture/from-coffin-factory-to-condo-artists-say-goodbye-to-storied-loft-space/

Eulogy for the Coffin Factory Lofts (Lake Effect Projects / Nuit Blanche 2019)
https://lakeeffectprojects.ca/nuitblanche2019

Brown Field
Former site of the City Abattoir, Quality Meats, proposed site of The Yards

Fort York: Stories from the Birthplace of Toronto
“Lowing in the Wind: When Packing Houses Surrounded Fort York”

The Yards at 2 Tecumseth
https://tasimpact.ca/project/2-tecumseth-street/

Stackt Market
https://storeys.com/stackt-market-new-lease-expansion/

Thank you to everyone who came out and shared their thoughtful responses!

What I choose to read as signs from my dead dad are very strong. I have spent years trying to connect to more removed ancestors, and I have felt frustrated with the one-sided nature of those conversations (I do ALL of the talking).

A few weeks after the playing card showed up for me, I reached the end of my very intense Con Ed courses at George Brown College and I was wrapping up my final assignments. At that point, my home had been in various states of disarray for two years. A flood in my kitchen in February 2023 was a symptom of a much larger, graver building-wide problem. From June 2024, plumbers had been onsite to install copper piping throughout the building. By November, I had floor-to-ceiling holes in my drywall, with little separation between my home and my building’s common area. Finally (FINALLY!!!) in late February 2025, the dry-wallers had come to repair the walls. It was loud and dusty work.

Squeezed out by discomfort, I hopped on the streetcar and rode it west to Kensington Market. At Jarvis, a woman got on, hauling a buggy draped with a beach blanket or towel. A souvenir from a maritime country? The three-fish pattern reminded me that we were officially in Pisces season. For Catholics, Lent was forthcoming. I am not Catholic, but I vowed to give up anxiety. Fat chance.

Off the streetcar I ambled toward Made-Rite Coffee for one of their famed breakfast sandwiches. I ordered the Bacon-Egg-Cheese (BEC). The pillowy soft bun and melty processed cheese transported me to 1990. Friday at noon at Pete’s Sunny Bar, an old timey lunch counter on Annette Street at Clendennan with swivel seats, a pop fridge with a built-in bottle opener, and a sign over the bar that read, “In God we trust. Everyone else pay cash.”

Warming up with a BEC sandwich at Made Rite reminded me of the chicken noodle soup and cheese on a bun sandwich I enjoyed at Pete’s after swimming class at my beloved Annette Street Public School. Pete was always slammed at lunch. He was short and angry with the older kids from Humberside CI and Western Tech, but he was gentle with us grade schoolers. He had the best candy, too. Small luxuries for a small person.

Made Rite also exudes retro, lunch counter vibes. Old meets new with specialty drinks such as Matcha, Honey Chai, and Maple Hojicha Latte. New small luxuries for an older small person.

Beware the steep staircase down to the basement toilet, possibly a late-Victorian original. Staircase, not toilet. Spelunking gear recommended.

After a quick stop at the Sanderson Library to return some books, I wandered to Alexandra Park to figure out my next steps. Winter and school work had trapped me inside, and so I was seeking out novelty in the mundane and looking to get lost.

Bright colours cut through the grey at the southern end of the park. Here the Carr Street laneway murals drew me close, and to my delight, a decent size representation of fish. Pisces season indeed!

The first mural from right to left (or west to east), by Claudia Luz (@claudialuzd_) and Mouze Dezignz (@mouzedezignz), featured fish. Second catch of the day for me.

And further down the lane more fish by Pomelo (@p.omelo) and Hyunsun Park (@hynsu.illust).

With the benefit of time and a reliable internet connection, I learned that these murals were created during MUR/ALL, a mural-making intensive supporting 10 racialized Toronto-based emerging artists ages 19-25, with priority to queer identified artists. Workshop sessions were held in Fall 2024 at Unit.270, a grassroots gallery in Chinatown Centre, and organized by artist Wenting Li (@wentingthings), in collaboration with artists @eedzmaximus and Caitlin Taguibao (@taggybowow).

For anyone interested in a deeper dive into work like this, I highly recommend checking out @queerartcrawl and their awesome offer of monthly tours.

From Carr Street I crossed Bathurst to Robinson.

In the last few years as I’ve been digging at my ancestral roots, I discovered that my mother’s paternal ancestors lived along the Bathurst corridor. Addresses for my great, 2x great, and 3x great grandfathers include 196, 312, and 355 Bathurst Street, the last one torn down to make way for the Toronto Western Hospital.

Around the same time, early 1900s, my mom’s paternal grandmother, a Toronto-born Irish Catholic, relocated with her family from the Ward to 112 Palmerston Avenue. Their roughcast worker’s cottage is long gone the way of the Toronto Special.

I cut through the nearby side streets on the lookout for hidden lanes and alleys, ultimately foiled by mounds of dirty snow. A few turns later, I found myself in a vibrant laneway (slush and snow be damned!) drifting among more schools of fish. Fish, as far as the eye could see! A cosmic sign, for sure.

The internet later revealed this outdoor gallery to be the Laneway Light-up Project by Mural Routes in the alley between Euclid and Palmerston. What compelled me to wander this way on this particular day? What did the wooniverse want me to know and why was it being so unsubtle about its message?

From enotalone
Have you ever experienced a sudden sighting of fish in unexpected places? [Are you reading my mind, website?] [Fish] can suggest abundance, prosperity, or even the arrival of new opportunities. Psychologically, such encounters can serve as triggers for introspection, prompting us to reflect on what areas of our lives may be ripe for growth.

When we think about fish, we often envision their graceful movements in water, which can remind us of our own emotional currents. They are creatures that navigate both the surface and the depths, much like our own feelings and thoughts. In psychology, this duality represents the conscious and unconscious aspects of our minds. As we explore the spiritual meanings associated with fish, we discover how they can guide us through our struggles, illuminating paths to healing and self-discovery.

Some of the times I’ve been on a mission to connect with one ancestral line, another one has made itself known, piping up as if to say, “I’m here, too!” On my mind forever has been my great grandmother, my mom’s mother’s mother. So steadfast is my obsession that this great grandmother has inspired not only a walking tour but also deep reflection on the intergenerational knock-on effects of the mother wound. May my ocean of notes one day organize itself into a book.

It dawned on me that my maternal GGM was born at the end of Pisces season in 1908, and she died at the beginning of it. 2025 marked the 50th anniversary of her passing. One of her few joys was fishing.

My GGM converted to Catholicism when she married her husband, who was an immigrant from a coastal village in South Central East Italy (just under the swell of the calf on a map). On his immigration arrival document, my great grandfather’s (bisnonno’s) profession was listed as sailor, though he did not (could not) pursue this work in Canada. When my mom was a kid, her family spent every other Friday with these grandparents, eating fish as per the Vatican’s command. The smelts, my mom said, made her gag. I have the same reflex.

From astrology web:
A fish symbolizes fertility, feelings, creativity, rebirth, good luck, transformation, health, abundance, serenity, intelligence, happiness, strength, and endurance. Connecting us with the water element, it represents the deeper awareness of the unconsciousness or higher self.

In many pagan traditions, fishes are seen as symbolizing female fertility with the constant flow of water, representing the “Divine Mother”.

By trying to get to the bottom of my great grandmother’s difficult personality, I have discovered scoundrels in her line far worse than her. She was raised by difficult people in a difficult environment, with deep sensitivity and unmet needs gone toxic as a result. The woonverse has been loud on behalf of my GGM. My fish-sighting day confirmed for me that the attention I’ve paid to her is appreciated and reciprocated.

Being among the very casually employed (I gig as a walking tour guide—see polar vortex) and very actively seeking creative, permanent employment, 20+ hours per week + benefits (you know, the unattainable dream), I’ve had lots of opportunities to fill the time between drafting obsequious-to-me cover letters (pick me!) with indoor passions.

I spent time with friends and family. Consumed art and also ushered it into being. I read a goodly number of books this month, mostly in the genres of memoir and City of Toronto. Very on the nose, I know.

2025 was a hard year. Last winter I sequestered myself to my desk, toiling away at homework for two ConEd courses in Fundraising at George Brown College. Spring, summer, and autumn were chock-full of loss, grief, anxiety, and perfectionism, which kept me from writing here. I hope to be more prolific in 2026.

So far this season I’m lucky to be working more hands-on as the director of a staged reading at Alumnae Theatre on March 2, part of their Next Stage works-in-development series.

I’m very excited to be included as a participant in the Dramaturgy Lab, an initiative of the Vault Creation Lab, taking place in the second week of February.

A third exciting initiative I’m part of this winter is related to tour guiding, arctic chill be damned! The company I work for, Tour Guys, is partnering with the Downtown Yonge BIA to offer food tours for locals on Thursday afternoons from February 12-April 2. If you live, work, or study in the area, or want to learn more, check out Taste of Downtown Yonge.

If you or someone you know is visiting the city and you want to learn more about Toronto’s unique and dynamic neighbourhoods, check out the host of tours offered by Tour Guys.

And if you’re excited about hearing my irreverent, impassioned, and very well-researched take on art, history, culture, and buried waterways in lesser explored areas of the city, I will be offering events once the weather reaches a comfortable and more predictable threshold.

Until then, stay warm and friendly, friends!

This long weekend I’m running a tour of the Garrison-Niagara neighbourhood.

WHEN
Fri Feb 14 through Mon Feb 17
11:00 am-12:30 pm

WHERE
Starting Point: Garrison Crossing bridge, north side (777 Wellington Street West)
Ending Point: Stackt Market (28 Bathurst Street)

WHO
You and me and up to 24 other people

HOW
Purchase tickets on Eventbrite. Adults $25+, Children 12 and under FREE

WHAT
From an ancient waterway to a military outpost, from a transit corridor to an industrial and later creative hub, Garrison Common has been home to diverse communities from all over the world and represents development trends in the City of Toronto on both a micro and macro level.

Together we’ll explore the history of the area through heritage architecture and ghost signs, and you’ll learn how streets like Niagara and Tecumseth got their names. I’ll also share scandalous stories of the neighbourhood from my trove of ancestral lore.

We’ll end the tour at Stackt Market, an art and retail space crafted from over 100 shipping containers where the community gathers, connects and shares experiences. Enjoy a hot chocolate while participating in Stackt’s dynamic, family-friendly, long-weekend programming.

WHY
This is a big question. I first walked through the area in Spring 2004, a fresh graduate pounding the pavement in search of work that would support my creative endeavours. I was immediately charmed by the irregular curve of Niagara Street and the amazing view of downtown afforded by the unique perspective.

Friendship and feminist art organizing brought me back to the area in the 2010s, specifically to Walnut Studios, a multidisciplinary artist-run collective, and the Feminist Art Collective’s unofficial headquarters.

Since then, the area’s affordable artist spaces have gentrified. Goodbye Walnut Studios. Goodbye Coffin Factory Lofts.

In the early 2020s, restricted by stay-at-home orders and a global pandemic, I began researching my ancestry and discovered that my great-grandparents, Nick and Mabel, met as residents of Niagara Street.

On the cusp of Sweet Sixteen, Mabel was a little pistol full of piss and vinegar who struck the heart of a 28-year-old native son of Porto San Giorgio. When he called out to her something to the effect of, “Heya, Red!” she shouted back, “Kiss my ass!” Love at first vulgarity.

Nick and Mabel’s first address together was 135 Niagara Street in 1925, the year their first child was born. Mabel’s grandmother lived at 125 Niagara with her two adult sons and another granddaughter.

What was even more surprising was the discovery that I have ancestral ties to the area dating back to the Rebellions of 1837.

Under the auspices of the British military, Joseph Dyson, my fourth great-grandfather, was a soldier commissioned to suppress the uprisings in Upper and Lower Canada. Early Toronto directories list him as a Barracks Sergeant living at Garrison Common in what would later come to be 27 Tecumseth Street.

His son, William B. Dyson, first generation born in the area, grew up to be a clerk, a penmanship instructor and a grocer, eventually establishing himself as a builder-turned-slumlord. He built and owned most of Tecumseth Street from Niagara to King, and some of those houses still stand today.

He was a miserly prick, a racist and a bigot, inclined toward perjury to unburden his profligate sons from the consequences of their crimes (breaking-and-entering, aggravated assault, robbery to name a few).

Old Man Dyson survived to 89, pre-deceased by his “wife”—scare quotes because I can’t find a record of their marriage, even though I found a record of a previous marriage to someone else—and four of seven of his acknowledged children. He died alone in his house, with little except a few housewares, a small collection of mouldering tools and ladders, and hanging over the hearthstone, a framed piece of word art that read, Live, Laugh, Disinherit.

He left the bulk of his estate, about 80 crumbling houses, to his three surviving sons—Mabel’s reprobate uncles—while cutting his granddaughters out.

He’s buried in the Necropolis Cemetery. His stone faces west against the famous oarsman Ned Hanlan, and slightly southwest from the memorial of Peter Lount and Samuel Matthews, the two Reformers tried for treason and sentenced to death following the 1837 Uprising.

I’ve been observing the trees by the scoundrel’s grave over the seasons. The invasive Norway Maples that circle him, rotten at their core and with so much leaf coverage nothing can grow under them, have been snapping apart and dying following the intense weather events of the last few years.

Incidentally, the old scoundrel was born February 14, 1842, and if he were alive today, I’m sure he’d be celebrating his 182nd birthday by stealing milk from children and counting his wealth of mouse turds.

As fascinating as these ancestral stories are—and there are so many more—my walking tour will focus more on the history of the Garrison-Niagara neighbourhood in general, including innovations in transportation, changes in the natural and built environments, immigration, and commerce. Heavy industry pollution. Municipal garbage disposal. Wholesale pig slaughter. Oh my!

Join me for a Toronto neighbourhood tour through an underrepresented area that charmed me the first time I passed through!

A majority of these books are about, set in, or connected to my hometown, the City of Toronto. An overwhelming number I borrowed from the Toronto Public Library.

I’m on a research mission to dig deep into the history and circumstance of this place, and to reflect what impresses on me as accurately as I can.

Pick up any book and in the first few pages you’re likely to read that this place existed for thousands of years, and before the book’s introduction is over, we’re on to the arrival of the Europeans. The official record is rife with colonial misrepresentation that continues to the present day.

Even the word ‘Toronto’ with its contentious origin, may be the colonial French interpretation of the Kanienʼkéha word, Tkáranto: the place where the fishing weirs stand in the water. Known today as The Narrows, the small channel connects Lake Couchiching with Lake Simcoe. In 1982, the Mnjikaning Fish Weirs were recognized as a national historic site, and it is managed by Rama First Nation.

A delightful palate cleanser following a buffet of colonial tomes, Michi Saagiig Nishnaabeg shifted my perspective of the history, circumstance, and people of what we call Ontario. Anyone interested in history, storytelling, and decolonization needs to read this.

From APR Books: [Michi Saagiig Nishnaabeg] uniquely retells pivotal historical events that have been conventionally unchallenged in dominant historical narratives, while presenting a fascinating personal perspective in the singular voice of Williams, whose rare body of knowledge spans back to the 1700s.

I talk about gentrification a lot on the tours I lead. Depending on the degree of openness of my guests, we talk about the ways that gentrification fulfills the settler colonial capitalist agenda.

Two books shifted my thinking in monumental ways on this broad topic, and have improved the quality of the conversations I initiate.

The first is Leslie Kern’s Gentrification Is Inevitable and Other Lies.

From Verso Books: A “decolonial, feminist, queer, anti-gentrification” critique of the settler colonial project as it manifests today in “rising rents and evictions, transformed retail areas, increased policing and broken communities.”

Sarah Schulman’s Gentrification of the Mind is the second paradigm shifter, with themes of memory, authority, and cultural amnesia related to the AIDS crisis.

From UC Press: In this gripping memoir of the AIDS years (1981–1996), Sarah Schulman recalls how much of the rebellious queer culture, cheap rents, and a vibrant downtown arts movement vanished almost overnight to be replaced by gay conservative spokespeople and mainstream consumerism … Interweaving personal reminiscence with cogent analysis, Schulman details her experience as a witness to the loss of a generation’s imagination and the consequences of that loss.

Many of the more recent titles set in or about the City of Toronto can be found at the Spacing Store at 401 Richmond. I have lots more to say on these topics, but I’ll save it for upcoming posts.

Two amazing writers I met at Banff in 2019 published their books this year, and I am so proud. Not only that, their work is riveting and deeply moving. I couldn’t put either down.

Reuniting With Strangers by Jennilee Austria-Bonifacio

From Douglas McIntyre: People everywhere, and in Canada, too, have benefited from the love, labour and often blatant exploitation of Filipino women (and men) working abroad, separated from their own beloved families. This book is a double testament—to the heartbreaking human cost of such a system and to the tenacity, humour and strength of the people who survive it.

May It Have a Happy Ending by Minelle Mahtani

From Penguin Random House Canada: A searing, intimate and blisteringly honest memoir about mothers and daughters, grief and healing, and finding your voice … In exquisitely lyrical and inventive prose, Mahtani recounts the experience so many of us recognize: a life calibrated through calculating when to speak and when to be silent in a world that feels like it forces us to be broken.

If you’re looking for a book recommendation, guidance on research related to the themes presented in this reading list, or someone with whom to have a book talk (not to be confused with #BookTok), send me a message. I’d love to hear from you!

On January 1, I went to see A Complete Unknown. I listened to the cassette tape Bob Dylan’s Greatest Hits the summer between middle school and high school—so cool of me to listen to old music during the competing golden ages of hip-hop and grunge. I didn’t become a full 60s Dylan aficionado until my last year of university, which, as of this writing, is precisely half my life ago. Jack Black’s character in High Fidelity turned me on to Blonde on Blonde, so thanks for that! Needless to say, I loved the music in the film. I also thought the acting was great, and of course, I’m a sucker for period pieces.

On January 2, after completing all the outstanding administrative tasks related to the soft launch of my walking tour business coming soon (A vague teaser? You betcha!!) I tried to cure my ensuing restlessness with a long walk across town. Research, I told myself. Go to the sites of your walking tours and photograph them at their coldest and darkest, the nadir of tourist season.

I checked out Graffiti Alley to see what was new or new to me. And I checked out the other graffiti alley, off the beaten path, for the same.

On my loop back, I zoned in on the holiday magic of Downtown. Cavalcade of Lights at Nathan Phillips Square and the tree at the Eaton Centre were the most dynamic of the light displays that I took in this year.

Before December 25, I happened upon the Eaton Centre tree during its light presentation, which concluded with a dusting of snow on us hapless shoppers and passers-through. At least I hope it was snow. The simulacrum of snow. I didn’t stick around long enough to investigate. The tree was dark on my ultimate visit.

Finally, I passed through the Financial District before heading home. I braved the cold, the wind, and the desolation, stopping to photograph locations that are on my upcoming tour of Public Art and Architecture so you don’t have to.

From my frost-bitten fingers to your sense of hygge. Enjoy!

I’ve been chasing the holiday spirit this month, revelling in all the cheap thrills I can find. This led me to Yorkville for the BIA’s annual Holiday Magic light extravaganza, on from November 23 to December 31.

When I first went to the area in early December, I also caught Fleurs de Villes (4 days only!), a showcase of artful flower displays. This year’s theme: Christmas carols. My favourite displays were the ones inspired by humans.

Since I’m also on the hunt for the best mini panettone in the city, Eataly is a natural destination. While their selection for the larger sizes is peerless, I did not come away with anything special made for one or two people.

Good news, though! I discovered the best mini panettone of my life at San Remo Bakery in Mimico. I recommend the pistachio version, and I’d also advise getting it as close to the bake date as possible. The first one I had was fluffy, creamy, and delicious. The second one I had a week later paled in comparison. I’m gonna guess these expert bakers don’t use shelf stabilizers like the rest of the panettone producers, so it’s best to get your treat when they’re fresh.