Heat

New York has been doing that thing that New York so frequently does at this time of year, and been absolutely glorious. It's been bakingly hot, but without the sting of the humidity that we get for so much of the summer. I've managed to be careless and have slightly reddened shoulders from wandering around the last couple of weekends.

Yesterday, the wandering took place at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, where there was a chile pepper festival. Neither of the adults was quite sure what this would entail or how long different types of hot sauce would hold our interest, but it turned out to be a delight to mooch around the Cherry Esplanade, sampling different mango or habañero or spicy brown sauces (yes, the latter a nod to our beloved HP. It was a tad vinegary for my taste).  We ended up purchasing some absolutely delicious blood orange cooking sauce, ate our way through chocolate orange cardamom spiced cookies, and purchased some spicy honey to hopefully recreate the incredible dish we had at Misi a few weeks ago - slow roasted tomatoes, coriander, fennel seeds, and spiked honey that was unlike anything I'd eaten before. Dragonflies and mayflies droned around in huge numbers, and the kid potted and took home his first plant - a chile pepper that maybe, just maybe, will survive more than a couple of weeks.

Birdlife

It's been bastard cold (a technical term, that) for the last few days. NYC schools had a snow day on Thursday, so we hunkered down for the day, and then the cold has kept us from doing much out and about; despite my beloved's general refusal to admit that maybe it is a little too cold to do things, even he has only had us out once or twice a day in the below freezing climes.

We bought a bird feeder when we first moved into this apartment, and the last few days it has proved its worth as entertainment, as well as provider of nourishment for the little things.  Sparrows we always get in abundance; one or two ringed doves appear, as well.  But the colder weather and scarcity of food have brought a female & male cardinal pair to us; even better, a pair of blue jays has graced us with its presence.  Their plumage, something between grey and blue, with that bright splash of a tail, always inspires wonder.

So This Is the Aftermath

Hurricane (except not-so-much) Sandy hit land last night and, other than a few anxious flights of fancy, we were absolutely fine.  So, really, the overwhelming feeling is relief.  Bits of the neighbourhood were hit hard - trees ripping out the pavement, smashed into a house; four-by-fours with smashed windscreens under a large trunk - but, fortunately, we are on high ground and power remains.  But friends remain without electricity or water; one friend's colleague is bereaved, with his nephew's house hit by a tree while the family slept.  I can't imagine how dreadfully unlucky that is, how painful.  Another friend of mine lost her brother - not through a storm-induced injury, but I imagine arranging the funeral and other details must be a nightmare in the post-Sandy city.  So, really, relief seems appropriate.  Hunkering down to spend time with family at this point is really not in any way a hardship.

Springing

About a week or so ago I was most disgruntled about the change to daylight savings and it being dark when I arose for boxing lessons. Oh, what a difference a few days makes; yet again, I am overexcited about the joys of spring. The weekend was absolutely glorious, allowing me to boat around Central Park, eat a lot of Grom hazelnut gelato, visit the beautiful magnolias at the BBG, and do several hours' hard graft in the back garden. It needed it, I have to say. This year I plan to spend a lot more time just gently idling and pottering in the garden. I think it's good for me, as I tend to be an all or nothing type, and gardens require consistent but, often, low-level attention. I say this every year, of course, but I'm determined to make this year different. Yesterday saw much raking and turning of the soil (I'm so sad people don't really use the term "hoeing"). This week I need to turn some more, fertilise, and then this weekend we need to mulch/re-do the paths with wood chips and then do some serious seeding / planting.

Movement

I've associated New York City with Keith Haring since my first visit here. He's someone I wouldn't have known about without KTB, and so when I came here for the first time, I made sure we went to Pop Shop, the store on Lafayette that sold all things Haring - t-shirts, mugs, skateboards, dominoes; you name it, it was there with a Haring design. We bought an unbelievably cool flanneled hoodie dressing gown with Haring's Little Angel on it for our friends' 8 month old (meaning that child is now 10 - holy hell). I bought a cool t-shirt that I still own, albeit tattered and faded.


Today I went to the Members' Preview of Keith Haring 1978-1982, a really cool retrospective at the Brooklyn Museum. It was fabulous. His works were enormous and vibrant; they surprised me in their visceral and often overtly sexual nature. His work was playful and joyous and exuberant. I hadn't realised how much he used video, whether bopping away to a messed up version of the Flying Lizards' Money (That's What I Want) as his Tribute to Gloria Vanderbilt, or painting away to a Devo record. That movement is echoed within his paintings, where everything is in motion: his figures grow and stretch and dance and kick and wave. His use of street art is exciting and part of his overall sense that art should be for the people, not something bourgeois or only for the educated middle classes. One of my favourite things in the whole exhibition was a wall reproducing adverts for his performances and art works and installations - fliers with his photo, scrawled times and dates. You got the sense of excitement, but also how easy it would have been to ignore his work. I see signs stuck everywhere in the city but would never have thought that there could have been a Keith Haring behind it.

The exhibition also emphasized how bloody cool New York City was in the late seventies and early eighties and just why those who were here then have a sense of superiority at having been here; why they feel it's not as edgy or cool. Because it's not. Not anymore.

Move Your Body! 2/2 Complete

We've had a couple of great Saturdays of late. Last weekend we bought some lovely pork and fixings at the Farmers' Market at Grand Army Plaza, scoffed a fantastic peppermint hot chocolate from Blue Marble, and I did some gardening and snipped and froze a ton of sage, thyme and rosemary from the garden, per these instructions, so that we will hopefully have fresh and tasty herbs for the winter. Today we went for a walk around Prospect Park, full of yellows and reds and people playing flag football, ate a fantastic pumpkin ice cream pie and another peppermint hot chocolate from the fabulous Blue Marble, and then stuffed our faces with a lovely Saturday brunch - not often we get to do that.

The walk is what I'm counting as my MYB 4/4 challenge today - it was so nice to be out and about. I also took a longer walk up to Union Square after brunch, rather than the closest subway. I'm trying to be more active, honestly.

Smug as a Bug...

And I really am. It's been an astounding couple of weeks. First we had the big move. Not that it's really over, yet, but we are here. We still have a mountain of things to do, furniture to buy, and, sadly, boxes to unpack, as well as sifting through all our crap because we packed so hastily that we did not have time to really do a big sort and offload/throw away a lot of stuff that we really do not need or want. Of course, because we're now in a much bigger place, we didn't have to worry about space.

Still. It's lovely. The garden is gorgeous. The exposed brick wall is heavenly. The dishwasher and washing machine / tumble dryer have changed my life - I - and not the Doctor - now do laundry! Me! For the first time in YEARS I've done the washing twice in a row. Astonishing, indeed. The cats took a while to adjust, but Clem has ceased hissing at Winston every time he comes within four feet of her. They're absolutely intrigued by the garden but, as yet, haven't made a break for it. I've signed up for the amazing food co-op nearby, and signed up for a local blog that showcases cool (and bad) things about the large avenue that delineates the start of Crown Heights to our east - and tonight my dinner was bought from the organic, 24-hour mini-supermarket I found out about on that blog.*

Plus, we just had one of the best holidays of my life, complete with manta rays, tons of fresh fish - both to look at and eat - an active volcano, stargazing, beautiful beaches, and a hot tub, plus fresh papaya and mangoes everywhere. It was wonderful. AND the end-of-hols gloom was defeated by England winning the Ashes and Spurs being top of the table.

Something, clearly, must go wrong soon. But for now - life is sweet.

* I also got called a "pot-bellied bitch" by local youth just past there. Well, not to be too egocentric about it, but I think it was directed at me. Having bought a giant bar of chocolate to comfort myself while the Doctor is in RI and having barely done any exercise in the past four weeks, I am inclined to agree. Of course, it is the product of several amazing weeks of overindulgence, and I'm therefore quite attached to this reminder of the fabulousness of the past month. I patted it fondly in response.