NYC

Took the long train ride into the big city. That is not a euphemistic way of saying I died.  Although I am still recovering.
It's winter break in the public schools this week. The boy wanted to see his Dad's office. Yes, in spite of the painfully long commute, people do live here and work in the city. That's a five to six hour round trip daily. People are nuts. The husband usually works at home, but has a cubicle in his company's office. In midtown Manhattan. So at least it's an easy walk from Grand Central.

The last time we ventured into the city with the boy, it was Christmas break. The masses were out and I had no desire to meet up with them again, so I made a plan.

Chinatown.

Specifically Pearl Paint which is on Canal Street. Out here in the boonies, art supplies are limited to what you can find at Wal-Mart, and if you're like me, you avoid Wal-Mart at all costs. Pearl Paint is an art supply haven and I thought the boy might enjoy it. Especially since he's in the midst of his masterpiece.

After Pearl Paint, many stairs and overheating, we explored Chinatown. Chinatown has turned into a tourist trap and I was disappointed.  So we headed up to Times Square, and my favorite eating establishment, The Cafe Edison, which serves the best matzo ball soup anywhere. Back in my acting days, The Edison kept me and many friends fed well for not a lot of money.

I also promised the boy that I'd take him to a cake decorating supply place. He has some ideas for the baking business he's going to start. In between all of the other things he has planned, like the aquarium he's going to build in our "garage" and sell tickets for admission. It's going to be great. There will be lobsters in huge tanks.

He has a lot of ideas. I expect him to make his first million by the time he's 12.

So where was I? Oh, baking. Yes, the baking supply. Fun, fun, fun. We bought a bunch of stuff, headed back to the office and spent the rest of the afternoon watching tv/reading.

I think his favorite parts were riding the subway and chasing pigeons in Times Square.

This was two days ago and my feet still hurt. I guess what that means is, gone are the days when I walked all over NYC, had shoes that didn't hurt and was young and relatively in shape. I still wrote in run-on sentences but it wasn't as much fun then as it is now.

I guess there are benefits to growing older.

Like another cuppa coffee. And a true appreciation of matzo ball soup. YUM