I am going to NYC again this weekend to meet friends and stay with family. I also hope to get some long awaiting special store visits in - to Here for some luxurious embeillishment goodies, to Here for some history and Here for some fabric madness.
I am also meeting a friend who is coming in from California for the weekend, being a native New Yorker she loves to get her city jolt. She and I went to kindergarten together, were in the same classroom when we heard that Kennedy had been shot, went thru grade school, junior high and high school together, listened to the Beatles together, sometimes went to the same colleges, and summer camps. Alot of history between us two. She is short and curly haired and vivacious and I was taller, always quieter, and loved to follow her around. She would dash into trouble like you wouldn't believe, and I'd be right behind making more trouble ( in my quiet way). We liked the same guys sometimes and I remember that she dated Donny Most in high school, but I think she'll deny that. She is a wonderful artist, illustrator and writer and always wrote wonderful poetry and stories.
When I think back to our childhood, it isn't rosy but it was happy and Brooklyn was a great place to grow up. H lived in a small two bedroom, 1 bathroom apartment, with a tiny kitchen, living room and dining room...and she lived there with her parents and maternal grandparents. The house was always immaculate, and H had her room carved out in a small section of the apartment. I was jealous cause she had her own room, and I had to share mine with my brother. Can you imagine some kids today living in crowded conditions? Her grandma kept kosher in a tiny kitchen. No dishwasher of course. And her father was a wonderful artist who did religious incredibly detailed pencil drawings - his drawing table was in the bedroom. We'd meet on the corner to walk to grammar school, junior high and then high school. We'd meet on the same corner on Friday nights to go ice skating and then later on we'd PRETEND to go ice-skating when we were really hanging out on street corners, mooning over cute tough looking guys and pretending to be tough ourselves.
We lived thru it all. Some of our friends didn't. Some went to Vietnam. Some OD'd. Some have just disappeared. But we're still talking about the commune that we're going to live on when we all get old and cranky, and have to live communally so that one of us can read and the other can write.
I'll post pictures and if I'm lucky, I'll find our sixth grade pictures and post that too. Lovely orange can flips we had in those days. If you don't understand that last sentence...too bad!