Yikes, just realised it has been far too long since I last 'blogged'. Must admit this way of communicating still baffles me a little. Something between diary and platform for information, a little personal and mostly (I think) business related. So I must admit the last year has been very trying and challenging with several health issues to deal with; nothing dire but just requiring more than the usual amount of diligence with daily habits and medication. It was a new situtation, and I am happy to report that this should be resolved favourably for the most part, I hope by early April.

What the break from pushing too hard gave me, was time to 'idle' and it was a boon. Reading was what I did a lot, strolling too; to call what I did even a walk would be pushing the meaning of the word! My little neck of the woods in Toronto (Cabbagetown) is a bit of a gem with some lovely nooks and crannies which were delightful to come upon, and sometimes, during a walk relatively later in the day. One neighbour found my friend and me trying to peer through some slats, came out and let us take a good look at her wonderful, private space well hidden on one of the lanes in this neighbourhood. A beautiful, little garden.

Another wonderful event was that I got a part in a play written by a Canadian playwright Radha Menon, and called The Washing Machine. I had had the opportunity to do a workshop of it earlier in 2010 so was delighted to be part of the somewhat (Radha did have to do some editing to fit the time constraints of the Festival) complete production. Getting to sink one's teeth into a full part, in depth was great; tiring but immensely satisfying too. I had the pleasure of working with some amazing and generous actors. And I would be remiss if I neglected to mention the others involved - director, assistant director, costume and set designer, producer and light designer who were all fantastic.

During this 'break' from the regular scheduling of divans I read some terrific books; The Tiger's Wife, The Sisters Brothers, Half Blood Blues, the fantastically written and Booker winner Sense of an Ending, Irene Sabatini's The Boy Next Door, Tell it to the Trees by Anita Rau Badami - both extremely poignant and different to what I expected. Am still soldierng through Against The Day by Thomas Pynchon; boy it is quite a tome and very diffcult to define for me; part western, multi generational saga, story, and over 1100 pages!! Which makes the other two books sitting on my bedside table; IQ84 and The Infinite Jest more intimidating to crack! But am so enjoying the time to ponder and read at leisure.