HEY there. I owe you a report on another fun-filled week in New York. Ah, New York. It is one fun, pulsating place. Even just walking up and down Broadway or Columbus streets is energizing.
I had never before been inside Central Park after sunset. I have walked along the park on Central Park West by the amber lamps, with the park still and white and lit up. But this time I was inside, at midnight. The park to ourselves. A Central Park nightcap walk. Oh yes, there was one other time. The midnight run in Central Park. But that is so full of people and noise. This time, for my friend and me, the park was just ours.
To be sure, for obvious safety reasons, we remained very close to Central Park West, but we had officially ventured inside the park.
Night in Central Park, fringed by the dark and laced with the occasional distant noise of the street, is a lovely time. She is so lovely at night in her solitary, quiet beauty.
By day the park was glorious. The meandering paths carpeted by the golden crunch of the leaves, in transition. Oh, how picturesque. The bridges, the castles, all cloaked by the peak yellows and oranges of the maples, oaks and elms in the full foliage of October. There was the rewarding hike with the breathtaking 360 degree panoramic view of the Hudson Valley in all its glorious shades of yellow, orange and red. Breathtaking!
There was an enjoyable Sunday pancakes breakfast at my friend Abby, served with orange butter, maple syrup and a side of a bananagram game! Believe it or not, I have never played it. I said I would watch it played just this once, before taking the plunge and joining the bananagram fray.
There were some pretty impressive words that were thrown together, hard ones too with xs, qs and zs. I hope one day to win just once, just once! My dreams and demands are very modest. Really, I dont ask for much, do I?
And there was sabich. Remember that sandwich I told you about? Well. This time? It was dinner for four nights in a row! And I succeeded in converting a friend to join me in this sandwich nirvana. Shes hooked. She was there with me for the last two dinner nights in a row.
With sandwiches in tow, we parked ourselves on the wooden benches framing the row of English, gardenlike pink geranium pots outside the hub of the 72nd St. subway station.
Enjoying our sandwiches, we were oblivious to the hustle and bustle of Manhattan and all the passers by.
I SPENT time with my adorable nieces and nephews, G-d bless them!
I was holding my baby nephew as his oldest brother, my four-year-old nephew, was sitting right next to me. I turned to him and said, you know, it is so neat how your little baby brother kinda looks just like you.
Then I explained, he has a big round face like you, the baby has blue eyes and so do you, I said, pointing to his eyes. You have a cute little nose, I continued as I lightly touched his nose, and so does the baby . . .
At which point, my nephew straightened up a little and indignantly said: My nose isnt little, I have a big nose!
Ooops. I had committed the ultimate sin of using the off limits and offending word in the orbit of a four-year-old boy who is now, you know, a BIG boy. I said that dirty little word. I said: little.
Immediately I tried to repair, to take it back, and return to my nephews good graces.
Of course, I said, you are a big boy now, and your nose is big just like you.
Making sure he conveyed to me he understands the hierarchy of things, that he is indeed big and all, but not the biggest, just bigger than his baby brother, he turned to me, the adult, and said: And your nose, Aunt Telee, is really big, you have a really big nose!
Ah, kids. What would we do without them? Just love them.
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