Yesterday afternoon Carl, Noah, and I headed down to Yorkville to catch the Leonard Cohen paintings. Yorkville is the ritzy shopping district (on one side of the street: Dolce; on the other, Gabbana) and also where I spent most of the time I spent skipping classes in my youth (ahhhh the advantages of the downtown private school…). Except then there was a flagship Laura Ashley store, and I liked the dresses there, but I digress.
The sidewalks are made for hanging out and seeing and being seen: the four beautiful, fashionable, and thin women on their cell phones outside the spa; the pink Bugaboos coming out of Whole Foods. And the stores are rich and divine: Paper Things, a project of the friends of the National Ballet of Canada; the relocated Maison de la Presse with its foreign rags (not just newspapers but every edition of Vogue, etc.).
Noah traipsed along as if he owned the place, awed by the steps, brick surfaces, and especially the bull statue. Carl, who likes art and some walking around, but could probably do without downtown ever if you could just move Roy Thompson Hall and the AGO and a few other artsy spots to the ‘burbs, commented a few times that Noah is definitely like me in personality. Although I think a lot of it is just toddler stuff, I also have a suspicion that Carl is right, and that Noah and I will have a lot of little urban adventures together and Noah will leave as soon as possible for a ratty apartment over a store on Bloor West or something. But we’ll see. :)
He was well-behaved while we went through the Drabinsky Gallery. Lynn particularly liked seeing (prints of) Leonard Cohen’s handwriting on some of the works, and the paintings were perfectly fine for what they were, which is really LC memorabilia. They had that sort of twist of seeing that imbues his poetry and music but I’m not sure we would have brought any home, even without budget constraints. It was still really nice to have the chance to look at them.
Afterwards we strolled back through Yorkville and I finally, after having put it on hold one zillion times, gave in my downtown gym membership. (It was worth putting on hold since it cost $17.95/mo; one of those introductory prices you never get again.)
I really felt a little panicked about it, like I was giving up a link to former, childfree health or something; I had an intense wave of nostalgia for the days I could just go to the gym without arranging childcare or worrying about nap schedules; could meet a friend and hang out or browse after. Those times will come again, sort of, but for now it felt a little rough. Condemned to the suburban gym with daycare, should Noah ever be willing to stay there. But the truth of the matter is that unless I suddenly get a job downtown (which, as I didn’t get dream job – so much for the Secret!) it’s just not going to happen.
But then we took Noah to Spring Rolls, more for the ritual than anything (there is better Thai in the area) and he was great. It’s a busy place, even at the insanely early hour of 5 pm Sat, and it didn’t bother him. Another spot I used to picture myself in with Emily and another sort of regaining moment.
Everywhere we went there were a few babes and toddlers and kids and I was freshly reminded that Toronto is generally kid-friendly. Every time I go downtown I feel better, and yet I get down there rarely still. Hmmm. Although next weekend… well that’s another post.
It was a perfect sort of afternoon for me though. Although driving back I was talking a little bit about my total creative crisis and Carl… fell asleep. (Obviously, I was driving.) I think there’s a lesson in there about how repetitive my crises are, but hey.
Got home and the power had been off for three hours; it finally came back on in time to just nudge Noah awake and have to restart most of the bedtime routine. Still, it was a very nice Toronto day.
