sarah in nyc

 Last Thursday I noticed a crane outside my window. It was clearly a crane of impressive length. We live on the 6th floor.  I kept looking out the window and trying to figure out what was going on.   I have had a great fondness for large  construction equipment from the days when our street was repaved when I was perhaps three and reinforced by the fabulous Tonka trucks owned by my friends Markie and Stevie who  were my constant companions in my earliest childhood. It wasn't until I went out in the afternoon to get my second shingles shot that I learned  why the crane was at work. The crane was being used as a moveable work platform for the crew painting the building next door to mine. It may be an only in New York City thing that renting a giant crane for a day is much less expensive than putting up scaffolding. Sunday morning we got together with out of town cousins who were staying in a grand old hotel. After a beautiful  breakfast they invited us t...

 One of the realities of street life in New York is that folks who are crazy share the streets with the rest of us. People who moved lived in the neighborhood when I moved in, in the early 1980's may remember than man I used to call "Onion Head" because he used to wear the net bag from a 50 lb. bag of onions on his head to keep whatever was bothering him in the outside world at bay. Or you may have less fond memories of the woman who I  thought of as the mean and crazy blind lady who was exactly that. The entire neighborhood has fond memories of the terribly thin black gentleman in a suit who used to walk up and down Broadway every day and at all hours shouting, "Hallelujah! God bless! God Bless!" at the top of his lungs. You heard him even if you lived on a high floor. This afternoon I was walking down Broadway to shop for some last minute things for Shabbat. On my way south I noticed a man yelling and gesticulating. I didn't know if he was having an animat...

 I usually don't write about my undergarments here on this blog, because frankly it isn't any of your business. I make an exception here. A full slip or a wardrobe of full slips used to be part of any adult woman's wardrobe. Back when most women's dresses and suits were made out of wool wearing a full slip made wearing the wool dress more comfortable than wearing itchy wool against the skin. A slip also provided a layer of modesty. Once could wear a lace or sheer dress or blouse and not show more of yourself than you wanted to. I also noticed not long ago that when I wore a full slip under a knit dress that had worn thin in spots,  a full slip camouflaged the worn bits so they weren't noticeable. A slip keeps a garment from sticking to you--the outer garment "slips" and glides over a slip clad body rather than gripping or clinging to undergarments or skin. A slip can make a dress appear to fit and flatter the wearer a bit better than not wearing a slip. A ...

 I know that it has been a while since I posted. We went to Boston last weekend to celebrate the bar mitzvah of a family friend. I may post about the weekend in a different post. Two disparate topics in one post is all I can manage today.  Yesterday was a busy day and filled with big emotions. We began the day at the funeral  of a young man who was a Hebrew School classmate of my older son's. I had such fond, fond memories of the sweet, funny, kind and exceptionally bright young man who also had terrible struggles. I kept remembering the young man both  as a delightful child full of promise and the suffering that he and his family have been through for the past many years. I sat with two women whose children attended preschool with the young man. We three held one another in our sorrow. Yesterday was also my husband's birthday. My husband is not someone who wants things.  When we were  at Bingo---the kosher version of Costco I spotted a large package of ste...

 Today I am trying to get a post in before candle lighting. It's snowing! Not enough for a snowball fight or to build a snowman but enough to make the air quieter. There has been so little snow for the past couple of years that this is enough to bring me a little bit of snow joy. When I helped Laura deal with the textiles in her late mother's apartment a few weeks back, she encourage me to take a light blue linen tablecloth. I was a little reluctant to take it it was a sweet pale blue probably from the late 1950s or 60's. There was no fancy embroidery. It was exactly the sort of cloth my mother would have owned, complete with narrow white pearl stitching at the hem. Unfortunately though, there were also some tears near one end. I had washed and dried the cloth and it was taking up lots of space in my needs to be ironed pile. I realized that if i actually fixed the cloth it would have a home among my tablecloths. I cut off the section of the cloth that was damaged and ran th...