[Wherein we go all the way to New York to see a baby as well as, as in former times, investigate, now somewhat more randomly, art shows in galleries and museums]

So forty hours after initiating the Wall Spring laundry we bid our little friends reluctant goodbyes…

…and head for the airport where following aggressively mediocre breakfasts we flew east, reading and dozing to New York through the late October glare…

[L. was happy to catch the Lone Ranger and Roy Rogers back to back, though I feared the bad guy might take advantage of Roy’s easily accessible sixshooters to perpetrate something dire.]

Without incident we landed, however…

Getting into town went smoothly though after the desert the city’s unaccustomed cacaphony came close to exploding my head…

We stayed with friends on Bleecker Street and were soon out foraging for wine and provisions, then with them to a nearby Cuban restaurant; Saturday night loud crowds good eats and back to talk talk talk, finally crash…

Despite many wakings sleeping nonetheless proved less problematic than historically and Sunday, after considerable dithering involving when Izel himself would wake, took the A Train to Bed Stuy to await that very event and a long baby afternoon…

After Andy [Cotton, our web designer, to whom we owe not only the implementation of this space but much more] left we walked Brooklyn Sunday streets for wine in the finest of weather;

…returning home to, eventually, Christine’s exhausted return from a non-stop weekend of work and meetings.  That New York life will suck you dry.  While the little one went off to bed L. and I ventured out to the local market, where the young and vapid “hipsters” we’ve heard so much about ineptly hit on one another in the checkout line with enthusiastic ejaculations of clueless awesomeness [or awesome cluelessness] as we gathered cheese and crackers to sustain us for what became a long wait for takeaway…and a moon.

Mediterranean takeout came late, back to Bleecker at eleven…Arlene in New Jersey with grandkids, Ron conversational but I manage to slip away to shower, sleep…slip. Second New York night, television leaking through the wall behind the bed; Ron sez the bartender next door leaves it on for his dog when he’s working, so it goes off around three every morning.  Back on, loudly, by afternoon. I wonder what the dog thinks.

Monday down to Century 21 for the yearly socks, underwear [L. scores a nice pair of sunglasses but I stick to basics] and views of the celebratory ‘architecture’ going up on the WTC site;

Like these guys think they have anything on the Emirates?

Back to Bleecker, where Ron, 81, has run off with the circus.  Well, the Big Apple Circus, for which he worked long ago and is working again this holiday season.  Wotta guy; we await Arlene for a trip to MOMA and other adventures, next.

laters.

M