A blog about New York City, my books, and my cats. Mostly.
About once a decade I lop all my hair off. It’s a look that has always worked for me, but now at sixty-three years old I think it might not look good on me anymore. I don’t have a picture, but here’s a screenshot from a video of me the last time I cut it short. It’s been a while come to think of it. Scroll down, please.
Seen on the side of a truck on my way to work yesterday. My new best friend. He has hip issues. BUT DO NOT LOOK AT HIS HIPS. He doesn’t like that.
Just the other day I was posting on Echo about which new instrument I could learn and I came up with the xylophone. And then I come upon this xylophone player. That thing is BIG. Obviously there are smaller instruments, but then you have a limited set of notes. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind having a piano again.
Bodhi: Yeah, I’m going to bite you first chance I get. It’s inevitable. Comere.
Bali: Don’t even look at him, just look into my eyes. Shall we curl up and watch tv?
This is the window of a new store that opened a block away from my apartment. These items and this whole style is not to my taste but I appreciate the effort. Anything this delicate wouldn’t last two seconds in my home, and although I love the roses the cats would eat them first thing.
It does make me think of Beauty’s room in the Cocteau version of Beauty and the Beast, which I adore. (Scroll down.)
