I woke this morning to the sun blazing through the the cracks in the blinds. I wasn’t too bothered though, because I’d slept till 8:30, which is a late morning for me. Brannon left for coffee with a friend and I had the quiet morning to myself. I made some tea and read my bible for awhile, waking up. Lindy nudged my legs repeatedly as if to say, “Mama…..I have to go! Please take me out!” How could I refuse such a cute face? So out we went.

The morning air was cool and damp against my skin. It was a balmy 69 degrees, a welcome change from the recent heat wave. I decided that weather this good warranted a run. A half hour later Lindy and I were pooped, but ready to take on the day. After a shower and washing some dishes, I pulled out my sewing machine, unfinished projects, bias tape, thread, pins, and ironing board. I had so much fun scattering the dining room table with fabric and notions and matching up color combinations. I finished making 12 baby bibs in about 3 hours. I felt a great surge of accomplishment and joy in my creative work. I even enjoyed cleaning up!

In the evening, Brannon and I took the G train down to Park Slope to hang out. We ate at a tiny Thai restaurant called Beet and walked hand in hand down streets lined with brownstones shaded by full grown trees. Even the busy streets felt peaceful.

Back at home I made tea, lit candles, and settled into EB White’s Letters. Jazz was playing low on my great grandfather’s radio. By the time I closed my book my eyelids were heavy. I sat listening to the radio and watching the candles flicker.

It was a truly delightful day from beginning to end, and I’m sure I will sleep well tonight.

Goodnight!

The streets were relatively quiet at 6:45 AM.  I left home before the usual rush hour chaos, which was a welcome change.  I found a seat on the subway and settled in with a new old book.  After a few pages I decided to people watch instead. There is something calming about riding the subway very early in the morning.  Passengers sit quietly next to strangers, each person an island.  Some sit with their arms crossed and their eyes closed, hoping to catch a few minutes of rest before they are swept away on the raging locomotive known as New York City.  Others move ever so slightly to the beat of the music playing on their iPods, and some read the morning paper or get lost in a book.

I have a habit of observing people’s feet on the subway.  It is a strange ritual, I know, but feet seem to be the perfect starting place when taking in the full image of an individual.  A large African-American woman sat across from me.  Her feet were swollen and discolored.  Black flip flops clung to them, leaving deep imprints on her skin.  After a few stops they nearly slipped off her feet, just hanging onto the ridge of her toes.  She had bright mustard polish on her toenails.  My eyes naturally traveled north to observe the whole person.  She wore a lightweight, calf length dress with large yellow flowers on it.  Surprisingly, she had long, almost slender fingers, which were further elongated by two inch nails painted the same mustard yellow as her toes.  She clutched a purse in one hand and a tabloid in the other.  I wondered about her life; where she lives, where she works, where she was going so early in the morning.  Her deep set eyes looked wearied and sad, and her round cheeks sagged slightly. Even through her general look of exhaustion, there was a touch of kindness in her face.  She looked up and caught my gaze.  I smiled at her softly and she nodded back.

As I walked down 56^th street toward the office, the shopkeepers were opening their graffiti covered gates and rinsing the sidewalks.   The water made light brown puddles just over the curb.  The air smelled of garbage and cigarettes. I crinkled my nose and sighed.  Some things I will never get used to, I thought.  Then I looked up and saw the sun casting golden streaks across the black glass of the Trump Tower.  It was beautiful in its own way.

Olive Street (view from my bedroom window)

This morning was different. There was a quiet snow falling slowly, steady, and with purpose.  It wasn’t messy or overpowering. Two inches on the ground made the world look shy and delicate. The city was a great sleeping creature with soft fur like that on the back of a cat. It seemed to me that if I reached out my hand the snow might raise up and stiffen under my touch. I enjoyed walking in it.  My feet squeaked rather than crunched.  My cheeks were filled with a rosy chill, but to my surprise I was perfectly warm.  I could stay out here for hours, I thought.

I reflected on the early January mornings in Germany when I would wake to fresh snow covering the surrounding fields like a blanket.  The sky would be bathed in white and only a small gray silhouette revealing the mountains in the distance.

It is no where near as quiet here.  But this morning was still a welcome pause from what feels like constant noise.  Life feels like constant noise in the city.  I suppose it is, to some degree.  I miss the quiet places.

It is 20 degrees outside and the windchill is 7 degrees.  After walking Lindy to the park for a measly 10 minutes this morning, I was frozen to the bone.  The news reported 20-30 mph winds with 40 mph gusts.  That ranks in the “difficulty walking” weather category on weather.com. I had no intention of going back outside, so I put the kettle on and settled in for the morning with my book. Unfortunately,  Brannon came home from breakfast with a friend, red faced and windblown, announcing that he had bad news.  The wind had blown his glasses clear off of his face and into the street just in time for a car to crush them to smithereens.  He held in his hand the two rectangle lenses and several brown plastic shards. So much for my hibernation plan.

I’d only finished half of my tea before I was putting on my coat again. We were off to Manhattan. I bundled myself with extra care because my ears were already hurting from the morning walk. I know I looked absolutely ridiculous, but when it comes to extreme cold I have no shame. I doubt any other New Yorkers have either, for that matter. After all, people here wear sheer panty hose as pants around in public and don’t think twice. I layered up with two long sleeve t-shirts, a sweater, my thick Yale hooded sweatshirt, pashmina scarf, stocking cap tied tightly under my chin, matching mittens, and black trench coat — sweatshirt hood up.  I could still feel the wind in my ears twisting like tiny knives.

The trip was worth it to find Brannon a spiffy new pair of glasses though.  While we were waiting for the lenses to be cut he didn’t want to go anywhere because he was so disoriented from lack of vision. This is very unlike him, because he is usually curiously exploring whatever 20 block radius he finds himself in. Our little adventure took up the majority of the day. Brannon went straight to work when we got home (what a trooper), and I took a short  nap. Today was by far the coldest day I’ve experienced since we’ve been in New York.  I hope the temperature only goes up from here.

So far this week I have experienced two incredible things.

Last night we went to a Cuban restaurant called Guantanamera.  I was very impressed!  Authentic Cuban food, live music, and a really lighthearted atmosphere makes it one of my new favorite New York discoveries.  I had the traditional Cuban steak, which was grilled with sweet onions and an amazing conglomeration of spices.  (I even ate all of my onions, and I am normally not an onion fan!) For desert we enjoyed a caramel flan with perfect creaminess and consistency.  I have no idea if this is a popular place, but I totally recommend it! Check out their website for more details.

Tonight, we saw a truly spectacular show from Over the Rhine at the Highline Ballroom.  I have seen them play numerous times, and it never gets old.  In fact, I think tonight’s show was the best performance I have heard from them yet.  They held nothing back.  The set list was fantastic.  Karin wailed like never before on B.P.D — I will never listen to that song the same again.  Sigh….  I guess NYC really brings out the awesomeness in everything. At least, it is certainly true for Over the Rhine.

So there are two more NY bright spots for my collection.

St. Nicholas School (the view from our bedroom window)

Well, the last three weeks have flown by.  Due to my sick little macbook barely waking from her deathbed, unpacking, job hunting, and Thanksgiving, I have not been diligent to keep up the blog.  As usual, I will resolve once again to be better about posting regularly. So much has happened in such a short bit of time, it would be impossible to share all of it.  So instead, I’ll just list some of the highlights to give an overview of our first weeks here in the big apple.

1.  I believe I am technically an official New Yorker now, since I got myself a pair of black boots and a NY State Driver’s License.

2. Lindy absolutely loves the doggie play park near our house.  We take her twice every day and she has made many new friends.  She gets so excited at the mention of the park. We have met a few dog owners in our neighborhood this way too.  It has been an easy and fun way to meet people.  But the best part is watching Lindy out run all the other dogs.

3.  Brannon and I walked across the Williamsburg Bridge from Manhattan home to Brooklyn. The view was awesome and it was such a nice evening walk. The iphone photo doesn’t do it justice though.

4. Subway Mariachi bands make me happy.  Their songs are so joyful.  Sometimes a group will get on the subway car and play while we ride from Bedford to 1st Ave. There is one band that I have seen about 5 times this week on different subway platforms.  They are three guys who play guitar, ukelele, and pan flute/recorder. They  make me smile the most.  I gave them a dollar the last time I saw them.  I’m going to keep my camera on me in hopes of getting a video of them.  Keep an eye out for that post.

5. I made a turkey for Thanksgiving and it was a success!

6. Job hunt: I’ve met a few recruiters and had a couple of interviews, but no luck yet. Sigh.

7. My good friend Jenna from my Munich days is here for a visit this week!  I haven’t seen her in 5 years so this is a great treat.  We are going to eat Cuban food tonight.  I am anticipating the happy Cuban mariachi music.

Now, I’m heading out to the laundromat, so thats all for now.

After a very long weekend  (5 days) we are finally (almost) settled in our new home.  Today we ventured out to Manhattan for a little shopping. Our mission was to find a collapsable shopping cart, a metal trash can, and a few remaining groceries.  I guess every “first” in a new place holds a unique memory.  When our train got to the Bedford stop, 3 men with guitars boarded.  They began to play a lively Mexican tune, singing in sweet harmony as the train rattled on toward Manhattan.  At this, Brannon made a great comment about why he loves living in New York.  ”How many times have we been serenaded by a mariachi band on the way to Woodruff Road?”  Zero. I suppose this is just another normality of the city.

We made our way to Bed Bath and Beyond on 6th Avenue where we found the trash can and cart. The cart came unassembled and we were wondering how we were going to carry a huge trash can, cart parts, and groceries all the way back home.  Again, the ingenuity of the city came to the rescue.  At checkout, the clerk simply asked, “Would you like to have this assembled?” To our surprise there was what seemed to be a full time product assembly guy waiting by the door for everyone’s assembly needs. “This is brilliant!” I thought.  Where else but here?  :)

Trader Joe’s was a madhouse, with the line stretching the circumference of the store all the way to the entrance.  But they had all the groceries on my list, and that made me very happy indeed.

We left quietly this morning, just as the sun was coming up.  We packed all of our belongings tightly into a U-Haul truck and our border collie snug in the backseat of the cab. I didn’t look back as we drove away from our three bedroom-two bathroom cottage. I suppose there are always mixed feelings when embarking on the next great adventure in life.  For me, there is sadness in leaving memories and square footage behind as well as excitement and wonder in what lies ahead.  I decided this morning, that when moving, it is best to look forward rather than back.  The whole world is in front of us.  The magnitude of moving to New York City hasn’t quite sunk in for me yet.  Perhaps it will hit me when we drive over the Verrazano bridge tomorrow morning and the sun catches the edges of the steel skyline. Regardless, I know that the city is exactly where we are supposed to be.

For tonight we are settled into our hotel room in Pennsylvania.  The pillows are calling me to sleep like Christmas Eve.  For the sooner we sleep, the sooner tomorrow comes.