Showing posts with label Brooklyn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brooklyn. Show all posts

Thaw


New York, where the streets are paved with dirty snow, experienced a brief thaw with temps in the 50s yesterday, welcome news to everybody but Mr. Bromeliad, who had just finished a new ice sculpture.



We took bets on which side would collapse first. But we were both away from home when it finally toppled. It will take a forensics expert to sort it out.


How's the weather where you are?
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Ice ice baby


Returned from Mauritius in time to be whacked with an ice storm. Hard to be aggravated when it's so pretty. Above are crepe myrtle berries encased in ice.


Below is an ice sculpture by Mr. Bromeliad. He leans toward giant luminaries but recently received a "bourbon ball" ice tray from the good people at Maker's Mark, which has greatly expanded his repertoire. Of all the thousands of people who received one, I'm sure none have enjoyed it more than Mr. B.


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Morning glory


A tiny shaft of light hit only the tip of the back of this morning glory, causing the center to brighten up like a light bulb.

Worth getting up early for.
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Squeezed


The neighbor's Morning Glory has made its way over to our balcony. It grows an inch an hour. You can watch it grow. It's creepy.

Today it squeezed through the slats of our side table.


We are locking the windows.
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Watermelon aria





Another fruit-oriented post. Mr. Bromeliad and I ate nearly an entire half a watermelon last night. We ate it in the best possible way, which is to say outdoors and barehanded, where seeds are jettisoned over the railing and juice runs freely down elbows and drips on toes.

In between the slurping, we enjoyed live opera, courtesy of The Metropolitan Opera and Brooklyn Bridge Park. We listened in the best possible way, which is to say outdoors from one's balcony where the soprano notes ripple off the water and float through the trees, where birds can hear what we've got and where mundane life is for a time underscored with a dramatic soundtrack.

To create a similar experience:
  • wait until evening
  • open up a watermelon
  • take it and your laptop outdoors
  • play this clip
  • spit
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Around the neighborhood

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Only in New York


. . . Can you take an evening stroll in the park and come across a piano

. . . that is more colorful than you even though you are wearing pink and purple ikat

. . . and friends with friends visiting from Paris who happen to have sheet music on them

. . . which includes a song you sort of know

. . . and everybody sings along

. . . and dolphins frolic in the water.

(I made up that last one.)
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Peonies





The peonies are in bloom.

Do you say pee-oh-nees or peeah-nees?

All the photos came out underexposed but I kind of liked it that way. Did I tell you all we got an elderly DSLR? I love it, even when I don't use it properly.
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It was a wicked and a wild wind


. . . that blew ginko leaves into the neighborhood fountain last weekend.

No doubt bad for the fountain. But so pretty.
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Cabbage



I'm weird. I think old rotting cabbages are pretty.

These cabbages have since been torn up and replaced with tulips.

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Snow!

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Weather


Freezing cold.

Buried car.

Canceled flight.

One lost day of work.

Two Holland tunnel tolls.

One estatic three-year-old Southern boy playing in the snow on the roof of our building until after dark: Worth it.
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Winter color



Window boxes in Brooklyn Heights.

Don't they look good enough to eat?
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Weekend





For a change, spent the weekend being tourists in our own backyard.
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Chew on this - Brooklyn gum in Italy


This is a rather random post, but what else are blogs for?

A friend brought this gum back as a souvenir from Italy. It looks like something a graphics designer in Williamsburg would have cooked up, but no. Brooklyn gum is not just retro looking; it is truly retro - Italians have been chomping on it since World War II. Brooklyn gum is as common in Bologna as Bazooka is in Brooklyn. But Brooklyn gum in Brooklyn? Fugetaboutit.

I wish my friend had brought back a suitcase of the stuff. Wouldn't these make great party favors?

In unrelated candy news, a workmate gave me two of these. They are peach-flavored gummy eggs he picked up in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Peached eggs. Gotta love that Amish wit.


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Sidewalk marketing

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Fountain in Harry Chapin Park

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Crepe myrtle once more


I want to hold a party right here. Decorations: covered.
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Saturday stoop shopping


Saturday I walked out of my building intending to buy a spool of thread (amazingly hard to find around here) and came back with (no exaggeration) a garbage bag full of stuff.

My first stop was the urban cultural phenomenon known as the stoop sale. This is what you do in place of a garage sale when your living space is smaller than most American garages. Generally I find Brooklyn stoop sales to be high on price and low on inventory, but this one caught my eye primarily because of the Ghost chair.


Alas, the Ghost chair was not for sale (it belonged to the building lobby.) But I did pick up four packages of West Elm hanging capiz shell strands for $1 a piece. (Retail value $80) I have no use for shell strands but I've been kicking around the idea of a DIY capiz pendant light.

Even better than a stoop sale is a stoop giveaway. One block later, I ran into a free magazine, vase and random set of silver letters. I picked up the G, E and N and moved on.

Next stop was the Housing Works thrift store, which had an influx of odd-looking stuff from Home Goods, some of which I swear was marked up from Home Goods prices.


However, I did pick up this lampshade for $5. (The ticket said $63). I finally found the perfect match for the lamp I picked up for free about five years ago.

I also got this shade for $2. It's beat up but who can pass up a cheap drum shade? Tom reminded me that the last time I tried to recover a lampshade I ended up with glue on my toes. Long story.

And the thread? Never got it. The Variety Mart closes at noon.

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In the park a ball plays alone



Harry Chapin Park on an early summer morning.

Always there are toys abandoned all over the playground as if the Toddler Rapture came and took everybody below four, leaving only the scooters and stools and strollers. (Note to used toy thieves - an easy hit from 5 p.m. to 11 a.m. the next day.)

On this particular morning, a ball rolled into the fountain and got caught up in an endless loop.

Cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon
Big blue ball will be spinning 'til noon
When you coming back kids? We don't know when.
But we'll leave our stuff again. You know we'll leave our stuff again.
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