Just got back from ten days in Brooklyn NY, where we stayed in Betsy and David’s apartment to watch this sweet guy, our Linus. Such a good boy. I lost count of how many times I kissed his nose. It was fun to see how a city dog navigates, knowing exactly when the elevator is coming, what floor to get off, what corner to turn to get back home. Not to mention a lack of grass on which do their business. Quincy would probably hold everything until he exploded! City dog versus country dog.
We weren’t there as tourists. We embraced city life and walked everywhere. It was grand. Donned my converse sneakers, a tee and jeans, and off I would go. You get what you can carry from the corner grocer, the fruit bodega, or the corner flower market, and whatever it was, usually included a decaf coffee, triple cream for Michael.
A variety of eateries to pick from, not to mention happy hour spots and cozy, cute, independent coffee shops. Not one Starbucks in Williamsburg that I am aware of, but a couple of Dunkin Donuts. So pleasant to walk there and back, allowing your stomach to settle after a meal, and not around your waist! A healthy way to live. The energy is palpable. The people watching extraordinary.
The storm rolled in while we were sitting on the couch. A front row seat for the show. It was the only time it rained, and it really didn’t last long. We never left Brooklyn to go into Manhattan, preferring its fun, funky, laid back vibe this time around. I got some photos, but not as many as I thought I would. Just hung out and wallowed in city life.
Ah, but as wonderful as the week was, coming home is always the ending I look forward to. When Dorothy closed her eyes, clicked her red heels, and kept saying “there’s no place like home”, truer words were never spoken.
Urban hugs, Margie