Friday, April 18, 2014

Friday's Child Is Loving And Giving
And Wants To Make You Happy

Why does Her New York
post about animal rescue?


If you want 

in your home ...

in your life

and your heart

...then check out who's waiting for you at Social Tees

Come Volunteer!!! 
Come Visit!!!!
 Come On In!!!!!

Social Tees  
325 East 5th Street, NY, NY 10003

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Reclaiming, Recovering, Resurrecting

Just off the avenue I call the countryside because it has so many trees and behind these branches are benches circling a fountain that bubbles elegantly during summer months. 

I spent many months sitting by that fountain, slowly brushing away, like an archeologist, the rubble of life events the Buddha said we would all suffer.

I don't sit there as much anymore, but the gently undigging never ends, nor should it.  After all, every morning, Florence sat down to practice.  Every night, we brushed our teeth.  Every day, everyone gets to start anew.

When walking that daily Exodus into the birthright of Resurrection, a prayer is offered:  take away what I don't need anymore so I may travel without burden to the life I was born to live.

Related Posts:

Leaving Egypt On Maundy Thursday [a Her New York favorite]

Migratory Patterns

Sunday Memories: In Honor Of Past Exoduses

Going to Brooklyn To Leave Egypt

Before The Rain, An Encore Of Shelter From Storm

Sunday Memories: Part Three - Home Work

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Before The Rain, An Encore of Shelter From The Storm

Describing to a friend how a bathroom stall was, during busy days, the only place to catch my breath and reengage my prayer, this old post swam back into my memory.

Originally posted Thursday, June 4, 2009

It could be perched on top of a recycle bin by old windows.

Or around a conference table, the florescent lights becoming windows to a better way of living one day at a time.

And sometimes it's just a familiar bench by the bathrooms waiting for a movie to start.

Sunday, April 13, 2014

Sunday Memories: Higher Ground

Smith and 9th in Brooklyn

This is the F train on the way to Coney.  A trip Florence had taken at night, but I never did, not until my younger cousin moved to Brooklyn with her husband and that was way after I became an adult.

No.  I always took the F train to Coney in the day.  With Florence.  On our way to the sand and the waves and maybe a decent hot dog.

It was a trip we took day after day after day, year after year after year.

And every trip, every time, no matter what, whether I was little and holding her hand, or a teenager, arguing and sulking, the minute the train began its ascent out of the tunnel and up onto this elevated station, Florence would say, "This is the highest point of the subway in  New York."

Just the other night, decades later, on our way to that young cousin, still younger than me but no longer young, a mother of big, tall teenagers, the F train began that familiar climb.  The Mariner turned to me and said, "Did you know that this is the highest point..."

It was only later I wept.  For out of nowhere, or perhaps, from the highest point, I missed my mother.

Related Posts:

My Private Coney

Naked Swimming

Sunday Memories: Where I Could Find Her

Sunday Memories: Tribes, Lost And Found

Friday, April 11, 2014

Friday's Child Is Loving And Giving And This Month's PlayPet

Why does Her New York post
about animal rescue once a week?


Fay's gorgeous vintage handlebar mustache has inspired hipsters from Williamsburg to Bushwick.  

Wonderfully warm and affectionate, she's three years old and gets on fantastically with everyone she meets. Interested in cozying up to this cool cat?


Wheaten-Terrier mix, a bouncy riot and 2 years old, 29 pound.  Super friendly with every dog, cat, and person he meets, and he's eager to play and cuddle.


Another Social Tees Success Story!!!

That's Macho on the right, a chubby and amazing senior Chi, now napping happily ever after with his new brother Emo! 

His mom says, "When we put in the application for Macho, we were so surprised this cute little guy hadn't been snatched up! We're happy he wasn't because he has made a wonderfully goofy, loving addition to our family. 

We're going on two weeks, and he's doing great. His foster mom did a wonderful job taking care of him, and he's already down to 19lb. It's easy to exercise him since he loves walks, but he's also a great napper, especially alongside his brother, Emo. 

He loves sleeping under the covers, playing hide and seek, giving kisses, and, most of all, belly rubs. We knew we would love having an older dog since Emo is also 8-years-old. I would encourage everyone thinking about adopting to consider a senior dog, and don't assume a dog has already been adopted if you saw him on Susie's Senior Dogs." 

A huge, ridiculously wet and sloppy thank you to Susie's Senior Dogs for the amazing exposure they give mature rescue pups!!!!

Come Volunteer!!! 
Come Visit!!!!
 Come On In!!!!!

Social Tees  
325 East 5th Street, NY, NY 10003

Thursday, April 10, 2014

Bumping Into That Vision In White

Somewhere in Queens

We didn't have anything like this.  None of our neighbors in the courtyard had anything like this.  The socialist, more modern families who lived in the high-rise co-ops definitely didn't.

But, lining the Bowery, interspersed between rococo chandeliers and deco dining room sets were these spectacular bursts of ceramics.  Me, B. and Cindy knew they were meant for something grander than the apartments we lived in. 

They were meant for houses where only one family lived and there were extra rooms you didn't go in except for when company came.

Related Posts:

Sunday Memories: Let There Be Light

Sunday Memories: In The Garden Of Eden There Are Stars Up Above

Sunday Memories: Part One: Cindy-That Day We Met

Sunday Memories: From That Day On The World Was Different

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

When It Rains...

When it rains, the city becomes a tough poem.

Gray grim, nothing beautiful, not the way gray is in the Dutch master's paintings where a white light makes everything glow. 

It's just grim. 

The pregnant woman told me when it started today, she wanted to sue someone.   She's a lawyer so that made sense.

But I don't want to sue.  When it rains, I just get disappointed in the weatherman who said it wouldn't and then I just grimly walk through, ignoring everybody else.  And everybody else just walks grimly through it, ignoring me.

Because when it rains, the city becomes a tough poem.

Related Posts:

....And Dancing In The Rain

Encore: "Let the rain kiss you... Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops..." Langston Hughes
Sunday Memories: "...A Little Rain Must Fall"

Between A River And A Highway

Vanishing New York: Her New York