…… in my happy place …… New York City.
The weather here is absolutely beautiful. I have the windows open and am enjoying the street sounds as well as the “fresh” air.
I use quotation marks around the word fresh because …… well, because “fresh” may be a relative state.
I love being able to open the windows in the spring and fall. In Houston that would be approximately 2.5 days of the year.
I get a lot more days here in NY, but the more I keep my windows open, the more I have to dust.
And dust a lot.
Like …… every day.
And sometimes it seems/looks heavier than regular dust.
But I try to not think about that as I feel the cool air and listen to the sirens, honking, and music that drifts in through my windows.
Or maybe, slams in through my windows.
You get used to the noise.
I can sleep with my windows open and the noise doesn’t bother me at all. I wonder if I should make one of those sleep machines that has the ambient noises on it, like the sound of rain, a babbling brook, the ocean waves, etc. and add NYC noise?
I bet one or two people would like it.
I’m currently sitting on my sofa with a worn out puppy laid out next to me.
I know how she feels.
As much as I love this city, sometimes I think it’s trying to kill me.
This morning I went to the MET to take a “class” with some other women from the Manhattan Women’s Club. It’s called MET 101 and it’s 4 sessions. I missed the first two, but made it for today and plan to go next week.
Today we talked about painters from post-something to pre-modern. Or something like that.
Don’t judge me …… my brain holds only so much information now. To learn something new, something old has to fall out.
Anyway, we followed our lecturer (very nice and interesting man) through that museum for 2 hours.
Which is TOTALLY different from walking on a street, in a park or around a track.
It’s walk a lot-stop-walk a bit-stop-walk a bit more-stop-walk a lot-stop, etc.
It’s a back-killer.
Or maybe that’s just me.
But it was a very interesting morning, in spite of my screaming back and feet, which I totally ignored as I walked 2 miles back through the park, to the grocery store and then home.
The park was so lovely with tulips and pink budding trees all over the place. A bride and groom were doing their pictures in one spot. Behind them was a group of about 5 young people who were singing/selling their cd’s.
Further down was a group of young men who entertain people all over the city. Either that or they all have clones who do.
They do a lot of gymnastic stuff, including lining up about 7 men from the crowd and having one guy run and flip over them. Kind of like Evil Knievel. If you don’t know who that is, you should be on Instagram now.
There was a guy who was using a stick and string to make those huge bubbles, there were people painting/drawing scenes or caricatures of tourists (because people who live here don’t pay anyone for that).
All in all, it was a great walk on a fabulous day.
In spite of my back.
After I got home from the grocery store I did a work out …… still in spite of my screaming back.
And now I’m paying for it.
Well, not if I don’t move off of the couch.
But I’m not sure how long I can sit here without having to get up to do something useful, like finding the TV remote or going to the bathroom.
Gracie got to go on a walk this morning, too. Daughter #3 and the little boy she nannies for took her out. She was less than thrilled that I left her with them, but hopefully she behaved herself soon after.
By the way, I learned how difficult it is to do a workout in a room where your puppy is.
She kept trying to get me to throw her toys, pick her up, jump on my feet, back, legs, etc. and just plain give her my attention.
She was a pain.
And now she’s snoozing.
Like messing up my workout was a huge workout for her.
So, yesterday before my flight up here, I picked up a People magazine. I didn’t pay much attention to the front of it until right before my flight.
That’s when my heart started slamming into my chest and I think I may have hyperventilated a little.
Because of this:
I have every intention of becoming a serious stalker.
I knew that he had been up here doing something, but I had no idea they were living here.
How did I know that he was up here?
Daughter #3’s BF sent me these, the day after I left last time:
So now I’m on the search for George. I’m not sure what the first step should be, but hopefully it doesn’t involve me getting off of this couch.