The first days in a city are always the strangest – the new routines, new scenery, new living spaces. It’s also disorienting to move back to a city you know well, but not at all. Things have changed and not changed and here we are, changed and not changed. But things are starting to feel normal again and I’m now eager to explore and wander.
The Toronto skyline is more jagged with condos than it was 6 years ago, but it’s the skyline of a big city, and it’s beautiful. We’ve been keeping busy. An anniversary barbecue on Centre Island. The Beach Boys at the Molson Ampitheatre on one of the hottest evenings. Catching up with friends over dinner, drinks. Iced coffee and a hot dog at the nearby farmer’s market and then walking home with garlic scapes, Ontario blueberries, new potatoes. It’s nice to be back.
Right before we moved, all of our books were packed up, including books I was planning to read over the summer. But when you’ve 95% packed your entire home and there are still stray items lounging about, taunting you, you just stuff them into boxes and don’t really think about it. I remember labelling a box “alarm clock, books to read, etc”, but that box is somewhere in the garage right now and who knows when it will be unearthed again. (In other news, anyone in Toronto have a house they want to sell us? Preferably by a subway line, in a neighbourhood-y neighbourhood, and not outrageously priced? Anyone? That’s what I thought.)
Despite the craziness that comes with moving, I had moments where all I wanted to do was curl up and read, so I downloaded “Heartburn” by Nora Ephron on my Kindle. It had the kind of vibe I was after – someone being funny about not so great life situations, with some recipes thrown in. I highlighted this particular section:
“She must be feeling better,” said Ellis. “She’s making jokes.”
“She makes jokes even when she’s feeling terrible,” said Vera. “Don’t let her fool you.”
“Why do you have to make everything into a joke?” asked Diana.
“I don’t have to make everything into a joke,” I said. “I have to make everything into a story. Remember?”
I related to it, and have already started making up new Toronto stories.
(R.I.P Nora Ephron – I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to read your books.)