I remem­ber the day I was strolling through Kens­ing­ton Mar­ket in the heart of down­town Toronto and real­ized that, for the first time in my life, I’d found that place called “home”.

It was the late-‘70s and, a divorced sin­gle mum of a young daugh­ter Esther (now 40 years old, mar­ried and a suc­cess­ful ther­a­pist liv­ing in B.C.), my career as a food writer was ger­mi­nat­ing.  I was also learn­ing some hard life lessons. While deal­ing with a lot of painful change, I was about to find my call­ing.  Read more…