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raybearI was in NYC for 3 1/2 days, but it felt more like a few minutes. Most of my time was squirreled away up in the far northwest corner of Manhattan, known as Washington Heights, at the residence of one of my Ragdale spouses, and this is the view from her kitchen table:
Which of course my little camera phone picture doesn't even do it justice, but I forgot my real camera. Across the Hudson, behind the turning leaves, were the rock formations of the palisades which I had only heard referenced, had never really seen. Her neighborhood was charming too, and so when she mentioned trying to sell, I felt sad, until she said the place she wants to move to is across the courtyard, into a 1 bedroom.
I spent a rainy Saturday in the Guggenheim, riding in taxis, just like the locals do(n't), made soup and brought tea to my sick friend, wandered around and ran a few errands in places like Midtown and the Villages, both Greenwich and East, ate some delicious food and some really disappointing food, ended where we started, in Long Island, with harbors and quaint towns and Debbie Gibson's old house. We flew back today, I changed pants and turned right around to come to work. I don't have many more paid days off. There wasn't enough time, but there hardly ever is when you go to NYC, no matter how fast everyone and everything moves there. I liked that feeling of being in motion, even if I maybe needed to relax at the end, lest I become nauseous from it all. I come home to Chicago and winter fully arrived, the cold that cuts through you as soon as you step outside. It will make my bed even more appealing, I've missed it, though I slept remarkably well on various couches and pull-outs and guest beds, more disturbed by dreams than by bedsprings digging into my back.
Which of course my little camera phone picture doesn't even do it justice, but I forgot my real camera. Across the Hudson, behind the turning leaves, were the rock formations of the palisades which I had only heard referenced, had never really seen. Her neighborhood was charming too, and so when she mentioned trying to sell, I felt sad, until she said the place she wants to move to is across the courtyard, into a 1 bedroom.
I spent a rainy Saturday in the Guggenheim, riding in taxis, just like the locals do(n't), made soup and brought tea to my sick friend, wandered around and ran a few errands in places like Midtown and the Villages, both Greenwich and East, ate some delicious food and some really disappointing food, ended where we started, in Long Island, with harbors and quaint towns and Debbie Gibson's old house. We flew back today, I changed pants and turned right around to come to work. I don't have many more paid days off. There wasn't enough time, but there hardly ever is when you go to NYC, no matter how fast everyone and everything moves there. I liked that feeling of being in motion, even if I maybe needed to relax at the end, lest I become nauseous from it all. I come home to Chicago and winter fully arrived, the cold that cuts through you as soon as you step outside. It will make my bed even more appealing, I've missed it, though I slept remarkably well on various couches and pull-outs and guest beds, more disturbed by dreams than by bedsprings digging into my back.
