It’s hard to really see what’s going on here, but Bodhi has taken to sleeping in the weirdest position. He sits down, flops his head forward and down and sleeps in this sitting up/head flopped down in front of him position. That can’t be comfortable. Something I say to my cats a lot. (I have three.)
One of the prettiest blocks to walk down in my neighborhood. The movie Wait Until Dark filmed a number of scenes here. I’ve told the story many times, but I almost moved into an apartment on this block, but the building had a rodent problem. The apartment I ended up moving into was far prettier, and the block was almost as lovely. I had a working fireplace! God I miss having a fireplace. Sigh. (Been sighing a lot lately, I’ve noticed. I think it’s a getting-older thing.)
When I was working on my book about Blackwell’s Island, I wanted to address the experiences of people of color on the island. There were actually relatively view people on color in any of the institutions. Quick backstory: In the 19th century New York City owned Blackwell’s Island (now called Roosevelt Island) and they used it to build public institutions like the Lunatic Asylum, the Workhouse, a penitentiary, an Almshouse and a public hospital for the poor.
I started keeping track of how many people of color showed up in the yearly censuses for the buildings and at a certain point I also noted their names. It is a rough, very rough list, and not at all complete, but I just came across it and I thought this might be useful for anyone researching people of color on Blackwell’s Island, either for research or genealogical purposes. I don’t want to post names here, but if you are looking for someone of color who might have been on Blackwell’s Island, or are doing genealogical research, please feel free to reach out to me. firstname.lastname@example.org
An inmate/patient or worker on Blackwell’s Island:
I love the original painting, or was it a print? There’s a small reproduction of it hanging on my wall to the right of my desk right now, as I type! These bags are too expensive for me, and I don’t use handbags anyway, but still. I’d kinda love to have the tote bag in the middle on the left. Then a pen would break inside it, ruin it, and I’d be heart-broken.
In the 1970s, when I was a stupid teenage smoker, I carried a lighter with his LOVE image on it. I have fond memories of that lighter. People are weird.