Someone recently posted on Yelp that she objected to a bodega cat in an East Village store. Other Yelpers jumped to the cat’s defense. But gosh, I totally share her anguish!! The presence of a cat in any public setting, especially in a bodega, where they’re often iconic fixtures, TRIGGERS me. One hissed at me in a YouTube video four months ago, baked-good-shaming me for indulging in a gluten-free muffin, and I was so traumatized that my mom had to go to my interview at Kate Spade *alone*.
P.S. If you don’t like it, gato the fuck out of NYC.
I picked up these three things on my walk through Central Park this morning. First the dinosaur, then the single leaf, then the three-leaf ‘set’. I didn’t realize they all coordinated so well and didn’t intend to use them together. Indeed, I didn’t even know why I was picking them up. But I’m so happy I did. There’s probably a ‘lesson’ in there somewhere, but I don’t want to roll my eyes at myself for cheesiness.
Three hours earlier, this white plastic bag transported a homemade macaroon to a friend at the gym. Now it’s bringing home a tiny baby bird for burial in the flowerbox graveyard on my patio.
I found you 20 blocks away, Hubert. I didn’t know what you were at first, but when bent down and saw your closed eyes and yellow beak and flightless wing, my eyes filled and I sniffed away the immediate tears. Had you ever lived at all?
I buried you a few minutes ago, still crying. I told you your sweet life mattered.
Rest in peace, Hubert.
One of my favorite ladies and I hung out a bit yesterday near Union Square and found ourselves at the dog run. Okay, so that implies that we roamed there by happenstance, but we planned it after a jaunt to Dick (pause to giggle) Blick and a fantastic and gorgeous lunch at Peacefood Cafe. Who says “no” to a suggestion to look at dogs? No one I want to know, that’s for sure.
Anyway, the run wasn’t overrun with dogs, but it did entertain quite a few, a beautiful mix of big, small, fluffy, smooth, floppy-eared, and pointy-eared. One thing they all had in common was that they were adorable and my friend and I wanted to smoosh every one and squeeze them until their guts came out (in a good way). This one guy, though, cracked us up:
If I have to explain to you why this is adorable, there is no hope for you, sadly.
Springtime in New York is absolutely glorious, and enhanced exponentially by the existence of dogs out and about and happy in the sunshine.
… to admire the pattern of my “new” vintage pots and pans. A full post to follow. But for now, enjoy the splendor of green paisley and try not to swoon too hard. Or, if you’ve got a maverick spirit, a certain devil may care attitude (and oh, I hope you do), and prefer to swoon posthaste, I invite you to join me on the fainting sofa for a spell. Welcome.
Where’d everyone go?
The bluest bike on the block.
I’m off-center, observing. If there are nuts, I’m picking them by twos. Chips, any kind, likewise. If there are raw vegetables, I’ll eat the celery because I hate for it to be a wallflower. If there is a dog, I will be wherever the dog is, even if that means under a table, on a porch, or in whatever room hosts the orgy of coats. If you see me, you don’t have to ask if I want to join the others. You don’t have to ask if I’m okay or if I need anything. This is the way I “party”.
Just a test! Just a test!
I make the bed every day without fail, usually before leaving for the gym in the morning. This morning I did not because I wanted to change the sheets but didn’t have time. When I returned, I tossed the fresh sheets on the bed in anticipation of doing so. Right now I’m not in the mood to do it, though, so I was thrilled to see that little Lola had decided to lounge among them, thus making it “impossible” for me to do. I like to think she did it expressly for my benefit. I am grateful for my cat.
Okay, it’s November, the month of Thanksgiving, so every day this month I’m going to post something for which I am grateful or thankful, in a 100-word block, rather than save it all for the actual holiday, when I’ll probably be offline avoiding photos of turkey. I’m a day behind, because I just decided to do this this morning. So, without further ado …
I’m several paces behind a person bent so far forward at the waist that his or her back is parallel to the sidewalk. The person is dressed in simple pants and jacket and is completely bald, and I can only see part of a profile tucked below. The skull is studded with several raised reddish blotches and bruises, and just as I think, “Probably from bumping into lots of stuff,” the person nearly does so with a post, but reaches out a hand in anticipation, avoiding more damage. My own problems are immediately rendered bullshit. I’m grateful for my spine.