February 13, 1917
Tomorrow is Valentine’s and I’ve been thinking about Winnie.
Winnie was 27 years old when I first met her in 1912. I was 34 then. At that age she was considered to be a spinster, and at my age, I was a bachelor but that was much less called into question than spinsterhood. Men were expected to be free until decided to settle down in their own time. This was not the case for women, and I believe this had a bearing on her parents’ view of her and of me.
Up North, when Winnie and are together, we have a grand time. I enjoy her company as she’s not like the other women. She has a love of the outdoors and we’ve spent many pleasant hours together, fishing and canoeing. Her parents have come to know me well and I know they have the expectation that the relationship would become more formal one day.
I should write a short Valentine’s note to Winnie. I’ve been so absorbed in my painting that I didn’t think of it until now. If I mail it first thing tomorrow, she might get it with the Saturday morning mail.
Tom Thomson's Last Spring 