Dinner in the Garden with Friends

Our pals Chops and Leslie came over for an outdoor barbecued dinner last week on Tuesday. The weather was perfect for it, and we had a very nice visit with these long-time friends.

When Nothing to Do Was Just Right

Ha. I've just sat here at my computer, looking at a blank screen for the past 10 minutes, wondering what to write to go along with these pictures.

They were taken on a beautiful Saturday afternoon last weekend, when nothing much happened. We'd eaten lunch at home -- cucumber, tomato and cheddar cheese sandwiches, with mayonnaise and shredded basil leaves, dill pickle on the side -- so there were no restaurants to head over to. Nothing needed shopping for, nor were there major plans to prepare for. Basically, we were free to wander about without a goal or destination -- free to stop and smell the flowers, as they say.

So that's what we did.

This was the same walk I mentioned in my previous post, when we'd lucked into finding the Trinity Bellwoods Flea in process.

Happening Upon Something Good : Trinity Bellwoods Flea

c="http://www.loulou.to/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/monthly-artisan-and-vintage-market-trinity-bellwoods-flea-toronto.jpg" alt="monthly-artisan-and-vintage-market-trinity-bellwoods-flea-toronto" width="640" height="480" class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-29853 blk-brdr">The definition for flea market is "a usually outdoor market in which old and used goods are sold". That's from the Merriam Webster dictionary, with the Oxford Dictionary going further and stating that these types of sales "specialize in shabby second-hand goods of the kind that might contain fleas".This is what first came to mind when I'd heard about the flea market that regularly happens in our neighbourhood -- well, minus the fleas and shabbiness, that is. I thought they were primarily places to find vintage things, with this impression reinforced earlier this summer after a visit to the Roncey Flea Market where pretty well everything on offer was vintage. There certainly were lovely items there, but since I'm an avid thrift-store shopper myself, with a focus on the vintage finds, I already have plenty of that type of stuff so only picked up one small item there.Then, this past Saturday, Nick and I were out for an aimless walk, doing this and that (hello Portuguese bakery with the freshly made goods), when we came upon the "Trinity Bellwoods Flea" in progress.There was a table set up outside displaying lovely handmade jewellery, and another with a nicely chosen selection of vintage clothes. A peek through the door brought a glimpse of brightly coloured handmade donuts and delicious looking chocolates, some more jewellery and a whole bunch of intriguing looking tables set up further within. Of course, we went in to have a look.

A Look at Fort York in Toronto

Close to Home : Checking out a New / Old Restaurant

We stayed close to home for this one, our neighbourhood on Queens Street West, known as Trinity Bellwoods.

I recently showed you a picture of our previous home, (in this post), a large historic house in which Nick and I rented an apartment when we first moved in together. It was located near John Street and Queen Street West, and we loved it there. However, after we were there for a year, our landlord decided he was going to sell the building, so we had to find a new place to live. He offered it to us to purchase, but it was huge, divided into three separate apartments and we were pretty certain we didn't want to become landlords ourselves.

So we began looking for another home. The easy part of the search was deciding where this new home would be -- we both agreed that we wanted to stay somewhere along Queen Street West, preferably further west than where we'd been.

Back then (15 years ago - yikes!) this would not have been everyone's choice, as the area was known to be a rough, somewhat rundown one. But we weren't deterred by the neighbourhood's reputation, because we both knew exactly what to expect there. This move would be the third time I would live there -- I'd spent a summer home from university, renting part of a house with friends, on a street called Crawford, and then lived there again, renting an apartment with an absent roommate (so basically on my own), shortly after finishing school. Nick had been renting a room in a house right in the heart of things, at Queen and Bathurst when we met.

It wasn't easy finding our forever home, and we searched for six months (our landlord had graciously given us plenty of notice). But we eventually did, and have been very happy here.

A whole lot has changed in the years we've lived here, but some places have't changed at all. One of those places was a restaurant called Swan. It's not that we went there overly often, since we're both very keen home-cooks so save eating out for treats, special occasions and times out with friends, but that beautiful old red, black and white sign hanging out front was a comforting sight signalling "home". We'd become very used to seeing it and were sad to hear the restaurant was closing in the spring, after having been in business for 18 years.