routines
Weekend days where neither Joe and I are working are routinely spent pretty much the same way. We wake up. We go to the neighborhood diner to have breakfast. We stop off to get coffee on the way to the playground. At the playground, Cal engages in hijinks. Upon completion of said hijinks, we head home for lunch and naptime, stopping off to go to the ATM and run whatever errands need to be run. We are boring, predictable people.
Watching the dogs at the dog run. Joe wants to know if you are Sarah Conner. (Don't say yes.)
There's this art installation at Madison Square Park that we're hoping they will never take down. It's this life-size silvery metal replica of two interlinked trees, and it's just gorgeous. It went up this past spring, and it would be great if the could keep it up through the winter, but Madison Square Park seems to like to rotate its art with the seasons, so it will probably be gone pretty soon. Possibly replaced with something hideous. A couple of years ago, the winter art piece was this gigantic orange A-frame metal beam. For quite a while, before I realized that it was an art installation, I thought it was just scaffolding.
We walked by a sporting goods store on our way back from the park. Unfortunately, it looks like the person who made up this window display forgot to put pants on the male mannequin. Or perhaps that's the look now.
There was a street fair that we passed by on our way to the bank. Along with the standard booths of gyros and $5 pashminas, we also saw a stand selling five million bajillion model cars. The big mistake we made was stopping. After we finally managed to drag him away, the screams of protest really interfered with my ability to browse for knockoff bags and warehouse overstock socks.
More unclad mannequin legs, which for some reason were duct taped to the scaffolding outside the Housing Works. Naked plastic asses! They're so hot right now.
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