Author: Stacy Horn

I couldn’t get close so my I didn’t get any good pictures I have to forewarn you. But my neighborhood was taken over last night for a Sex and the City shoot. I went out to get bird seed and Perry Street was blocked. So I went around to 11th Street and came back over to Perry via West 4th. There was the familiar “craft services” table. Apple Jacks?? I didn’t even know they still made that kind of … junk.

There were crowds of people watching.

And cops … watching.

Perry Street was just jammed with equipment.

So here’s my first not-good shot of Carrie/Sarah Jessica Parker, at the bottom of Carrie’s apartment stairs.

Here’s my second not-good shot of Carrie ON the stairs.

My not-good shot of Miranda/Cynthia Nixon running off to sit down.

And I believe this is the actor playing Brady! I asked and in this picture he’s ten years old now.

I was going to try for more, but then I thought if I don’t stick to the hour then I will know an hour doesn’t really mean an hour and it will be harder to repeat this tomorrow. Maybe I will add a half and hour each day? In any case, the holiday weekend is ON.

Here’s another shot of lush, green, Manhattan. This is down in Battery Park, I forget what they call this particular spot. It’s where all the docks are, behind the Winter Garden (which is not a garden, but a building).

Except I can’t quite enjoy it. I have to go back and re-write this book proposal, and it isn’t even really fair to call it a proposal yet it’s so unfinished, and I’ve been so unable to get any traction on it. This is not like me. Hmmm.

For the last two books my job has been clear, tell the story of the NYPD’s Cold Case Squad, tell the story of the Duke Parapsychology Lab. I still had to figure how to do that, but the goal was as simple as it gets. This is a book about singing with the Grace Church Choral Society, but not really. It’s like Waiting for My Cats to Die was not really about my cats.

Right now I’ve been telling myself you only have to write an hour a day. It’s an insanely small amount of time.

In the meantime, this is a picture of a tree on WeeHawken Street. It’s a tiny street off Christopher, right before you get to the river. It’s kind of dismal place, and at the same time, old, haunting and beautiful. It has that back in time feel that I love, like sailors might live here, or spice merchants, and horses are kept in the stables, and people are getting drunk on beer and too many oysters in a real oyster bar, and doesn’t this tree literally look like a tree in a dream? God, I think that might officially be the most beautiful tree in Manhattan.

UPDATE: I thought people might appreciate a pulled back view, so scroll down to see this tree in context.

The street is better than it looks in this photo though, some of the buildings down this street have that from-the-past appeal I was describing. I should go back and try to capture it.

I was walking home along the Hudson River and I looked out at the remains of an old pier and saw what looked just like a dead turkey to me.

I knew it couldn’t be, I mean, turkeys can’t swim or fly (will never forget that WKRP episode) so how could it get out there? I zoomed in on it and took a picture and even though I still couldn’t verify its non-turkey-age, I knew I’d be able to when I got home.

Definitely not a turkey. But you see it, right? Imagine seeing it from more of a distance. This is a close-up.

Whenever I go to Petco to get birdseed I have to pass this cage on my way back up the stairs to the cash register. I feel bad for this little guy who is all alone.

I think (hope) this is like a showcase cage and they put different animals in it to show them off, and so no one has to be alone for long. I’m pretty sure I saw a different creature in there the time before.