Unconsciously inspired (I figured it out afterwards) by plates of French snacks that my friends Stacey and Laura have been posting from Provence and Paris, I put together a Brooklyn collection to tide us over till dinner, last night. Also, I had skipped lunch.
New York Concord grapes, sausage from Los Paisanos, mutt olives, and Emmenthaler. As cosmopolitan as Carrol Gardens, minus the strollers. This is a neighborhood of young children and their parents, and old Italians. We like our new neighborhood very much, but find it, after Harlem and South Africa, very white. I miss the mix.
But we will always miss something about somewhere.
We sleep very well at night - as in, the whole night through. No thumps and bumps and crashes from below.
I am still getting used to the character of the outside space. A lot of windows look at us, from the houses opposite, whose backyards adjoin ours, so it is not a very private space. There is Rosa next door, who seems to watch every move. We'll see how that unfolds.
I'll write soon about garden things; there is a lot to tell.