26 April 2012 | mark

I woke up in the strange and sterile hotel room and went to perform my morning ablutions. This is what greeted me:

I still think I’m staying in an IKEA. There’s no one to help me, and my door key is an Allan Wrench.

I had to make a lot of telephone arrangements today (an activity that is bleeding over to tomorrow). Since the only must-do on the itinerary was dinner with Barb and her family (the late Joe Showler’s sister), I took it upon myself to make use of the third largest public transit system in North America and do a little book hunting. Mike decided to tag along, despite his still-tender sprained ankle. What a trooper! So we ate a great breakfast at the greasy spoon across from the hotel and hopped on the light rail.

This town is really starting to grow on me. Thousands of little dives and places to eat that don’t break the bank, a hugely diverse set of neighborhoods playing host to every nationality, great shops and little places to explore, and all of it easily accessible via public transportation. Lovely. Just lovely. I can see why this is the arts and Bohemian capital of Canada.

We didn’t even make it to The Monkey’s Paw (and how cool is THAT for a bookstore’s name?), so we’ll try to cover it on Saturday, before we leave. But we did hit up BMV books (thanks to Jay for the suggestion), where I found two books that I simply HAD to have within thirty seconds of entering the store. Dangerous place, man. Dangerous.

Mike and I made it back in time to meet up with Pat and Diane, and we all trucked out to one of the quaint, picturesque neighborhoods that I associate with Toronto. The “typical” house seems to be a two story townhouse-style house, with a finished basement and a deceptively deep back end that either terminates in a small yard like a dog run, or a patio porch that drops off into a ravine. It’s a cool style, in that the house resembles a walk-up flat, but actually has tons of room inside. These are the houses that people are always fixing up on those real estate shows that dominate HG TV.

The first time we met Joe’s sister, Barbara, they were under heightened circumstances, obviously. We certainly didn’t realize how close to the end Joe’s time was, and it was just such a jarring shock when we heard of his passing, literally a day after we returned to the states. In the intervening years, she and I have gotten to know one another a little better as we busied ourselves with separate ends of this lengthy project. But this was the first time we were able to sit down and just visit about what-have-you, and it was really wonderful.

Barb and Steve met in Italy when they were both studying art. Pat and Diane had visited Italy several times, and so stories were swapped, as we were treated to a homestyle pasta dish that they discovered while over there. Steve is an amazing artist who worked as an animator and so we had some very art-nerd discussions on our end of the table. They also served us Moosehead beer. I love Moosehead beer.

Barb, her husband Steve, and their daughter Erin made us feel very welcome and they treated us to a wonderful meal, great conversation, and much laughter and cross talk. Afterwards, we signed papers and passed keys and checks back and forth, and that was that. Such a simple transaction, but oh so many years in the making. It was almost anti-climactic, really. But it’ll all be real tomorrow. That’s when we load the truck.

And lest I forget: Barb also gifted me a moose. I had real trouble finding one the last time I was here. So, I’m one moose up on the deal. And we’ve got a totem animal for the trip back. Thanks, Barb!