Ode to Children's Books

When I was a child, I just loved books and reading which took me into different worlds and, in Kate's words, the book is a special friend who becomes your guide. My father was a voracious reader of both fiction and Civil War history and he would sink into one of the two large leather armchairs in our den and read. Good role model. As an adult, I rediscovered children's books and thought they were terrific. One of my favorites used to be the Snark Out Boys & Avacado of Death by Daniel Pinkwater. I'm not sure I actually remember much more than the title which always made me laugh. And when Kate outgrew some of her early books, we sat down together and went through them with me not wanting her to throw out anything, esp The Little Pig about a pig who falls in love with a painting at the Louvre or the Composer, I think that's the title....not tried and true kids books but also favorites. But the other day the New York Times ran a story about adults reading teen books and so I felt totally empowered to go out and get a book that I had been thinking Kate would like. Even though Kate has specifically warned me off buying her any books at al. So I thought I can read this by myself. It's the the first book, The Hunger Games in Suzanne Collins trilogy and so I started this morning while I waiting for my friend Anne to arrive at breakfast which by the way was a blueberry pancake extravaganza and so good. But this book was so dark and grim about a new world order and how the kids struggle. It sounds from page 7 -- I don't really know anything -- like a cross between Bladerunner and what? I don't know. But I am pushing on with the book.

The Chinatown Adventure

Long lazy hot weekends make you yearn for icy drinks, cold air conditioning, good books and what else? Well, after a while even with all these mod cons, or modern conveniences, I want to get the hell out of town. It's enough all this sitting around and debating whether it's too hot to even go out for a quick walk. So we kicked off the weekend by walking home from the Museum through Central Park with the changing lights. It's always iteresting to me how many pop events go on that park; impromptu tutorials about biology, plays, dog training, it's all there. Then on Saturday morning we took off for Philadelphia and the Late Renoir show at the Philadelphia Museum of Art via the 8:30 am Chinatown bus. It cost us $10 to get from New York to Philadelphia on a low frills bus which was certainly clean and had the identifying plastic bags hanging from the seats. No hostess, no snacks but everything worked and we go to Philadelphia's Chinatown by 10:30am. These cheap, no frills buses have been in place since the late 1990s to ferry immigrants to their jobs along the east coast and went to washington, Philadelphia, Boston and New York. Actually I think we are late catching on these buses which gave me a sense of enormous freedom because now we can actually discuss going to Boston and the Isabella Stewart Gardiner Museum.

A Woman in a Tutu

It's been an incredibly busy week for me at work with a major feature film unit setting up shop in front of the Museum with all the last minute questions and problems that they bring. Hot, hot weather...a hamster to worry about. I go in and turn on the damn air conditioningevery morning so that what Arnie calls "it's just a rodent" won't keel over with heat stroke. Explain that to your daughter, please. Yeah, I know it rachets up the bills.

And Arnie has been cleaning the bedroom out and moving stacks of stuff such as books, clothing, shoes into the Living Room so that on Monday a couple of burly guys can come in, take up the old carpet and laydown new carpet. Of course somewhere in there the furniture and the bed also has to come out of that room and be disassembled....god. Allthat will be a relief and, at the same time almost, we are having the bedroom painted! The real trouble comes when you have to put stuff back. I hate that part.

And this weekend because we are short a couple of adventures....we are taking the chinatown bus to Philadelphia to go see a Renoir exhibition. I'm actually looking forward to that because it willg get us out of town and into new territory. It's an adventure.

But then just walking the streets here is an adventure. This morning as Miss Murray and I are stumbling along I saw a mad looking woman, not a child, sprinting down Park Avenue in a white tutu.

Loved her. Glad she was running away from me and not toward me.

More grown up weekends

Friday night Arnie met me on the upper west side so that we could grab a quick burger at an outdoor cafe on steamy Broadway and watch the unending parade of people. Then we walked home through Central park and it was just exquisite with amazing light. I need to remind myself to bring my camera because it all looks so different at twilight than it does at 8:00 am with Miss Murray.

We got our first letter from Kate happily and busily in Maine having amazing amounts of fun, according to her. But there is this wonderful line in her note: "I'm having so much fun. You guys cannot possibly be having as much fun without me as I am without you!" then she asked if her hamster was stilla live. I must have said this before but sending Kate to camp -- and this is her 5th year at camp -- made me realize what a blessing that must have been for my parents. I could wreck havoc with any family outing, especially when I was around 13,or 14. I would not want to go, pick fights with people and general act out like a bad seed. I am always sad to see Kate go to camp, miss her madly but appreciate the one on one time with Arnie and then am thrilled to have her home again.