And it's just Wednesday

I visited a garden-in-progress round the corner, though job site is a better description, where the stonework is really the only thing that looks good right now. Way too many people on site all treading on each other's toes. I don't like dealing with artists who are weasels.

The general contractor is actually a tremendous guy, dealing more gracefully than I am (he's been there much longer and knows the politics). Today the irrigation crew came in and turned the carefully graded back garden, where only a surviving holly will make it into the future, into WWI trench warfare. Which was their right. Actually, mustard gas might have cleared the place a little.

Today, however, Kevin went shopping for the plants, or some of them, because we're doing this thing in stages, and I saw them this evening before I left for home - very nice. Maybe tomorrow it will all look a little better. My stone mason's wall looks good.

Then I hoofed it to the Upper West Side from Brooklyn to check on two gardens designed and planted early this year. And to be squeezed, pulled and cracked by Dean Calakos, the substantial and no-nonsense Greek chiropractor I hardly have occasion to visit. But yesterday I was DUMB and tried to open a skylight using my neck as...then I climbed a tree to saw off some branches...nevermind. It was really stupid and the result is I walk sideways and am useless to man and beast. Since I own a beast and have a man, well, you see the problem.

I had just stepped off the C train at 81st Street, The Museum of Natural History stop, when I heard an anguished, Mommy!!!!!!!

On the platform, a young girl, about 9, was beating desperately on the subway doors, which had pinged closed. Mommy!!!!

Mommy was obviously inside, and the train was pulling out, first slowly then faster. The girl pelted after it, I mean, running, still able to touch it, beating it with her hands. She was within inches of the car, right on the edge, running in her little white flipflops screaming this terrible cry of Mommy!!!

I took off after her. She just wouldn't give up. It was, you could just hear it in her voice, the Unthinkable. She was seeing her mom disappear forever. Eventually I caught her, actually had to hold her back, sobbing, and just inconsolable at first. Sweety, she's coming right back, I told her, she knows where you are! She'll be right back for you and we'll wait with you. By that time about five more people had come puffing up, all very concerned, and one couple spoke to her in Spanish, finding that she was just here from Puerto Rico. Rather idiotically they gave her their cellphone to call Mommy. I'm like, No! there's no signal she'll feel worse! Which she did. Renewed tears. I found the station agent and very soon, within minutes, word came that Mommy was on her way back at once and to stay put. Ay, it puts a lump in my throat, the poor girl. At that point I left them there, as I wasn't needed, and the Spanish couple looked as though they preferred to stay... But I'm sorry not to have seen it through, or to have heard Mommy's side of the story, because you can bet the whole scenario was reversed on that northbound subway car... her name was Arianna. A pretty girl with long dark hair and a bright pink top. And fast. Very fast.

After my date with Dean and the garden-inspection I headed back, taking pictures of some roof gardens on the way.

Back at the Museum of Natural History I watched an old lady blandly letting her French bulldog pee on a surviving clump of liriope.

Why do day lilies always seem to be behind bars?

And then I thought, What the hell, and had me some lunch. It may be the third hotdog I have ever eaten. No! Fourth! It was good. Beaks and feet.

Yum.