Advertisement
Published: April 25th 2012
Today Gracie took herself to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and, as a die-hard Beatles fan, to Strawberry Fields. I stayed close to the apartment and rested my weary back. Gracie took all the shots you see on today’s blog entry. Captions and explanations are hers.
There are a couple of laundromats nearby, so I tossed the clothes into a rolling bag and made my way there. While waiting for the process to finish, I waited outside on a chair and watched the neighborhood characters do their Astoria thang. A few families walked by. Stroller babies either ignored me as if they were my own teenagers, or smiled brightly, secure in the knowledge that they’d get attention—they can always spot a sucker. A large man across the street happily shouted greetings to delivery truck drivers as they wound their way to various shops. A tall, dark, very hip-looking young man dressed in saggy jeans, walking with a confident swagger, sported a pink bunny backpack as he gently held the hand of his little chattering daughter. It's fun to listen to groups of teens switch from Spanish to English so often, it seems random. We ran into many groups of kids,
all of whom have been very polite. In fact, I have yet had to stand on a bus because young women, and males of all ages, offer me their seat. NYC sure is a kinder, gentler place than it was when I was young.
When the wash was done, I returned to the apartment and puttered around, writing up travel blog entries, reading, and enjoying the back garden. The azaleas are gorgeous and at their peak. A few rosebuds are out already, and the scent of lilacs fills the humid, breezy, air.
When Gracie came home, we ordered supper in from a Thai place. Every kind of restaurant delivers. When I was a kid, delivery was limited to Chinese and Italian food. It must be due to intense competition for customers, and the fact that so many people don't have cars, but even the most hole-in-the-wall small restaurants deliver. It was good, spicy, and filling.
Food is often far cheaper than one would imagine. I’m looking at a menu for a local deli that offers huge calzones for $6, a chicken parm and spaghetti dinner for $7.95, and a pepperoni pizza
with 8 New York (that is, very large) slices for $10.95—all delivered for free.
There are two areas that disappoint; first, it’s hard to find restrooms. Stores are placed so densely here, and real estate so valuable, that public restrooms just aren’t the norm. Restaurants have them, of course, but fast food places do not, except for chains like McDonald’s. With all the other options, however, it’s impossible to consider visiting the golden arches for any other reason.
Also, free drink refills do not exist. A diet coke is a glass of diet coke, period, everywhere we’ve eaten so far. It’s not annoying, but it is not what we're used to. On the other hand, no refills means fewer panicky trips searching for a phantom restroom.
That evening, Heather treated us to dinner at La Pequeña, a Colombian restaurant in Jackson Heights. I’m glad I ordered a house specialty beef dish, because it was unbelievably flavorful and tender. I was too awed by its inviting aroma to even think of taking a picture, but trust me, it was gorgeous, and was served on what seemed to be a Thanksgiving platter. Colombian chefs, in
the tradition of all good South American cooking, sure know what to do with cow meat. Gracie had a dish of rice, black beans, fried plantains, and vegetables that she enjoyed.
We love Heather, and enjoy her company a lot, so hanging out with her was wonderful. We missed seeing Pip, but maybe next time. She was glad to know that we found the building where her mother, Mary Ann, was living at age 2.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.117s; Tpl: 0.012s; cc: 13; qc: 54; dbt: 0.0841s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
atty
non-member comment
RE: Danae by Egon Schiele
How did she lose her legs?