December 3, 1916 Sunday
I wrote a letter to Winnie earlier this evening. I had promised to write her as soon as I came back but I only got to it now.
I went to the service at Rosedale Presbyterian Church. Rev. Strachan was preaching, a reasonable sermon. I stayed in the back pew, had a good look a the windows during the service and left right afterwards. I do like the worship service but I don’t like the social nonsense so I left right afterwards. Jim MacDonald wanted to invite me for Sunday dinner up in Thornhill, but I said for next week. I spent the afternoon reading, made dinner of potatotes and stewed beef. I didn’t work on the canvas (Sunday) but plan to get back at it tomorrow.
I’ve been thinking about Walden and Solitude. The shack is my solitude. It’s not luxury like the Studio but I’m fine with that.
Tom Thomson's Last Spring 