Weekly Whiny Blog Post (59/365)

Blargh!  It was one of those days!  Nerds! I deserve to eat ice cream straight out of the tub and then post a weak, grainy picture from my webcam!

Ending (58/365)

More at eleven, but first (57/365)

And now, for a little update on Big Bird ...

he's drifted out of the Pisces' tails, but he's still holding on, feet still dangling:

The Grime Makes Polka Dots (56/365)

Littlest Madeleine (55/365)

Big Bird is a Pisces (54/365)

HA.  I got a serious laugh out of this sight today.

Here's a closeup, in all its foot-dangling glory:

And another, just so you know it's really him:

Whatever (53/365)

Oh, I don't know ... paint?  Can I go to sleep now?  Melodramatic SIGH!

So much to choose from (52/365)

So many recipes!  So many dreams of chocolate chips and fudge and grated orange peel!  What to choose?

Blur (51/365)

Muffin! (50/365)

Best Friday Night Ever (49/365)

I think it might have been the breeze through the open windows, but this was the most relaxing, luxurious, just-right Friday night I've had in a while.  I even had a spring in my step while I tidied up, and I capped off the evening by making one pair of earrings and fixing another and giving my hermit crabs a special treat for dinner.

What's your idea of the perfect Friday night?

Doodle (48/365)

I've got to say, I rarely get through a meeting without doodling. A lot of times the doodles are topical, showing the other meeting-goers that I'm paying attention.  Then my shoulders get tight and the doodles begin to involve yoga poses that I wish I was doing.  It's been a long week, and during today's meeting I was wishing for savasana.

Two Pieces (47/365)

These are two segments of the same street scene.  I felt that they worked better on their own.

One-Two-Five (46/365)

"

Numbers are funny.  When I lived in England,  I got one or two calls for the student who'd been in my room before me.  "I'm sorry, is this Five-Three-Six-One-Double Four?" the caller would ask, and I would say, "I ... don't know," while translating to the American in my head,  five-three-six-one-four-four, "Ah-hah! Yes it is! But sorry, I'm not Susan."

The next year I worked as a community organizer and youth minister at a church with Puerto Rican and Mexican parishioners.  They would give me their phone numbers in Spanish, in double digits: Nine-Eighty Three -Twenty Seven-Fifty Two.  It was months before I was able to think of my own phone number that way - in English.

"How could it possibly be easier," I asked myself in frustration, "to read off numbers with double zeros and twenty-fives instead of a simple Three-Six-Nine Eight-One-Two-Five?"

Today I traveled a bit across to town to meet with a partner community organization and the local police. It was a follow-up from late December, when they had presented the police with a list of places that needed more patrolling and problems they had noticed in their blocks and buildings.  Today the precinct commander went over their list of problem address, rattling off a sea of numbers:  "We had thirteen such-and-suches on One-Two-Five."

"Slow down, slow down!" I thought.  "How could I possibly know that One-Two-Five was One Hundred and Twenty-Fifth Street?"

I guess this observation is really not that profound.  It's just funny the little things that make us realize that  our ways are not superior, just the ways we are used to.

Lost along the way (45/365)

midnight and quiet now
red mylar flutters by the fare readers
petals have fallen.

Peaks (44/365)

Behind the Gates (43/365)

Oops (42/365)

I wish my camera would warn me when my batteries were on the way out, instead of giving up the ghost suddenly.  Also, I wish I planned ahead and carried spare batteries with me.

I really did go on an adventure today! But here I am, vegging out post-adventure, as verified by the webcam. 

Listening (41/365)

Yep, it's just about that time again! (40/365)

Aah, sweet memories of Shrimp Town, thanks to a friend who Fed-Exed this holiday treat!

Patterns (39/365)

Sad Chuisneoir (38/365)

The office fridge bit the dust.

When I came in this morning, I reached into the freezer for the loaf of bread I keep there so that I could make toast.  My nose was greeted by warm, stale air, and my bread was soft.  I looked with panic at the two tubs of ice cream left over from some office function in the early fall, and they were like milk.  (It's really time those were thrown out anyway.)

I think it was a blessing in disguise, as the fridge also contained hummus from July and expired seltzer water.  My coworkers and I dumped out the mayonnaise and the salsa from the recyclable jars and wiped all the shelves clean, and then I took my yogurt and kiwifruit upstairs and settled them between the panes of the hallway window to keep cold in the winter air.

(The title is a pun on a title of an older post.)

Cozy Comfort (37/365)

Lights in Two Restaurants (36/365)

This post only documents half of the restaurants that were graced by my custom today.   The first was a bagel shop, and the last was a global residence of griddle cakes.  In between, my parents and I went to a Chinese restaurant where I had a delectable ration of General Tso's Tofu, and two of my dearest and darlingest friends and I had wine and dessert at a fancy-schmancy wine bar (that used to be a grungy, but legendary, rock-n-roll dive).   Four restaurants in one day.  This is crazy.

Yes, I am looking at you. (35/365)

My brother came to visit me today in the City of Honks (a name he suggested, just for variety.)
The sun was out, and my neighborhood was especially busy today, so we maneuvered through crowds browsing the market tables set up on the sidewalks.  After a tropical lunch of Dominican food (plantains and avocado amid posters for baseball games) we set out to the park.

The wind was much colder in the late afternoon. The sun was just making the edge of the sky blush over the river when we arrived.  We were trying to get to the opposite end of the park, but the paths were closed, and we tramped over the hills instead.  Our feet crunched through the ice, breaking deep into the layers of snow, and our laughter crackled in the air.

We stopped to watch some squirrels eating seed against a stone wall.  They dug their faces into the snow and pranced.  They came up to us, almost sniffing our cuffs.  Then they went back to their seed.

Reading Room (34/365)

Grey and Red (33/365)

Shadows of Tall Trees (32/365)