On Saturday, our last full day in Toronto, we wandered around. We met Steve down the street at his hotel, and then set out for the Eaton Center, which is where the Church of the Holy Trinity is located (where the first Cowboy Junkies album, the aptly titled "Trinity Session" was recorded, making it a music nerd attraction that we just couldn't pass up). The church was in the courtyard of the Eaton Center, in the shadows of towering glass and chrome monoliths. It was strange to see this beautiful, rustic little building surrounded by the cold architecture of the current age. Inside it was quiet, as if the hustling shoppers and city sounds weren't permitted entry. A true sanctuary, if only from crowds and noise.
We ate breakfast across the way, and then went back to Steve's hotel to fetch the moose eating barbarian known only as Kugelberg. This accomplished, we set out again, only to be sucked into a series of record stores. I only succumbed to my addiction in the last one, where I purchased three cds, all used, and all with Canadian money which, as everybody knows, isn't worth the paper it's printed on (some German record collectors once told us that about our own currency, so I just had to turn around and do it to somebody else). Right before we visited this last record store, we went to the Bata Shoe Museum, which proved to be more interesting that it sounds. There were shoes from all eras. The ancient ones were the most interesting to me - I think because it's one of those things I don't often find myself thinking about. History books often leave out information about every-day items like shoes. The low point of the museum was the room full of the shoes of prominent people. Not interesting. ...And they only had one pair of Imelda Marcos' shoes. If they had all of them, it might have been interesting. But one pair? Not really.
As we walked around, several people (members of a fiesty octogenerian tour group, I think) commented on Willow's shoes, giving them their approval.
Then, all of a sudden, it was time to head back towards the venue for a third night of music. Near the venue, we stopped in some stores. Willow decided that she didn't want to be inside - in fact she seemed determined to walk into the street. We walked for a bit until we came upon a large circle of drummers. They weren't exactly taiko drummers - they had what appeared to be oversized marching band drums, and there was a guy conducting as well. Willow loved it. She danced and clapped, and then sat down and polished off the rest of our blueberries.
Soon we were back at the venue. Current 93's set was again markedly different from the previous nights, which is a good thing because at previous groups of concerts the set hadn't varied much from night to night. Another surprise was that Mary, who we had met last year at the Current 93 concerts in San Francisco, and then again in Portland, had driven out from Portland. Current 93 has always attracted people who will go to great lengths to see them. These concerts were no exception, and well worth the travelling.
Afterwards we hung around for a bit, talking and just generally being glad to be on vacation. Matt, Greg, and Dawn, along with Steve, went off to another concert (Green Milk from the Planet Orange), while Jen, Willow, and I went back to the hotel to get a bit of alone time.

And all of a sudden we're all back home, and as usual there are a million things that need being done. I think first on the list is sleep. Next week I only have to deliver three editions of the Wall St. Journal, and then no more. My first YSI camp starts monday as well. Not to mention that I'm working at the museum four days. I think I forgot to leave time to sleep. Blog entries may be sporadic at best next week.

cds I listened to while still being tired: Salty the Pocketknife "s/t", Mourning Cloak "In Dreams You See", Lubricated Goat "Paddock of Love", Michael Gira "I Am Singing to you From My Room", Nurse With Wound "Angry Eelectric Finger (Spitch Cock One)", and Thee Silver Mountain Reveries "Pretty Little Lightning Paw"