Hallmark Christmases are real!
You just gotta believe in fairy tales.
I don’t know who first introduced me to Hallmark Christmas movies.
One of the gayest people in my life references them regularly and watches them back-to-back when he needs to self-soothe.
I get it. They’re cute, comfortingly predictable, and always have a happy ending. They’re also unbelievable.
Well, I’m here to report that the saccharine-sweet recipe of - gal is forced to leave city life for the country, finds Christmas, learns from the kindest people on earth, falls for a local carpenter, and chooses love - seems to be in Canada!
Only this Hallmark involves different hemispheres and the same gender. Maybe I should write a ‘rainbow Hallmark’ script for Netflix. 😉
What’s so Hallmark about it?
I last caught up with you on day 2 and reported how Christmassy Toronto felt. That was a tiny taster of what was in store.
I hadn’t yet seen the Distillery District done up in its festive finery, the streets filled with market stalls serving piping hot strudels and steaming mugs of mulled wine. The light projections, the rather consumerist Dior tree (still pretty), and hundreds of people in wool hats and mits milling around until after 9 pm, all declaring Christmas is right around the corner.
I strolled the minus-11-degree streets of the financial district, gazed up at the enormous reindeer, stars, and trees at the base of skyscrapers and felt like I could be in Home Alone 2.
NGV whisked me along to fabulous Xmas celebrations. The second best was a pantomime version of The Wizard of Oz with the drag character Plumbum (AKA fairy godmother and good witch combined). There’s nothing like a camp show and a good heckle to get in the seasonal spirit. For those who don’t know, panto is a long-standing British tradition. I felt right at home.
The best event was an annual Christmas Carol—in—Pyjamas party with a gaggle of musically gifted gays. I wore a wig with jewellery and was in my absolute element, operatically blasting out ‘FIVE GOOOOOLD RINGS’ twelve times (my allocated part for The Twelve Days of Chrismas).
The next morning, I woke to snow in the city. Magical. It was time to pack up and hit the road to head to Prince Edward County.
24 hours in Prince Edward County
NGV recently discovered a beautiful area called Prince Edward County. She’s bought property there and made fast friends with locals who, I’m sure, are elves.
NGV wanted to give me the full spectrum of life spanning city and country. She also needed to pick paint for her Lavender Farm, the new family home.
The whistle-stop tour was a joy-filled whirlwind of being in flow. I was received with so much love by her two favourite people. Instant connection of the kind where you hug for a long time and invite them to spend the whole evening with you because the initial meeting isn’t enough. Our four-person love-fest moved to a Parisian-style speakeasy in a winery barn to find drag bingo was about to start! ‘Muscle Barbie, AKA Rowena Whey’, instructed us to holler BITCH whenever we made a line. After an hour of laughing at lewd jokes and stamping our pens to grided paper, we headed to The Devonshire Drake. Which is possibly the kookiest artsy interior of a hotel lobby and lounge I’ve ever seen.
For brevity, here’s what else we packed into the flow of 24 hours. I’m underplaying the magic by listing, but at least it’s recorded to trigger my memory for writing at a later date.
We bought enough baked goods to feed ten people from The Big Apple Cake Store, Enid Grace’s incredible bagels and biscuits, and Joel’s Waupoos butter tarts sold in a shed on a trust system… and we now gift pie to everyone we meet.
We stood on frozen shells at the ice-crusted water’s edge of Great Lake Ontario. We bought fresh produce, a book (about writing) by a local writer, face oil, a vintage jumper, minestrone soup, cheese curds, a woven basket…the list goes on. Everything is handmade, homemade, and made with love.
And then there was the Lavender Farm—a cream vision against a bright blue sky on the shore. NGV is building a creative sanctuary for retreats and a place for intergenerational family to gather. It’s divine.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better…
We drove at dusk at Winter Solstice to Muskoka. Official ‘cottage country’.
It’s an area two hours north of Toronto. (A 3.5-hour drive from where we were in Prince Edward County). And this is where Hallmark lives.
NGV has a place on the lake, hidden in the woods, currently surrounded by deep snow. It’s silent, serene, and Christmas heaven.
I requested we go to church on Sunday. We walked into the side room to be greeted by a group of elder locals, all wearing Christmas colours, who wrapped us in their community love. After tea and homemade biscuits, we filed into the tiny but decoration-filled church to sing carols and be led by the most progressive female reverend, who rewrote and instructed us to miss scripture as she went. '“Well, that’s nonsense,” or “Believe what you like but…” whenever it was too patriarchal to stomach.
Our church experience started the joy ball rolling, and we were invited for dinner to the oldest cabin in the area, preserved for over 120 years and decorated in keeping. We cut our own tree to suffice for the few days we’re here. We’ve received NGV’s oldest friends, sipped eggnog, and eaten even more pie.
I’m usually grinning ear to ear, laughing, or crying with joy, but of course, I’ve also experienced exhaustion and overwhelm. I don’t think the Hallmark producers have written any neurodiverse characters having a personality drain at a social occasion into their films.
They should. It allows the ‘love interest’ a scene where they rub the protagonist’s back, drive them home in knowing silence, and tuck them into bed. It affirms that the pair can cope in tricky times.
Right now, it’s Christmas Eve. I’m sitting in front of a roaring open fire, glancing up at snow-covered fir trees and a frozen lake.
Soon, we’ll be cooking Christmas dinner (we’re doing it the German way this year—NGV’s heritage), and we’ll go to twilight church before unwrapping presents around our perfectly imperfect wonky tree, topped with an angel we made last night from a toilet roll, foil, and a paper plate! Can you get more Hallmark than that?
Okay, it’s time to make porridge in this part of the fairy tale.
Love you, and happy Christmas. 💋