Sunday afternoon at the rooftop pool. I’ll admit, this is a nice perk of living here.
My Aunt Flora’s sewing machine. It’s been in my closet for more than six years now, since my cousin Betsy moved her mom into a nursing home. It’s from 1968 and has needed to be fixed for far longer than I’ve had it. Did I mention that I don’t really know how to use a sewing machine. I’ve decided that it’s time to let this one go.
Brunch at Cuba Libre for work. They relaunched their brunch menu about six weeks ago and they’re doing it very, very right. It’s all affordable small plates, which means that you’re freed from the brunch-goers chronic conundrum – sweet or savory. When a brunch menu is built so that you’re meant to order two or three things, you can satisfy every craving. It is inspired and I’ll be going back!
A 40+ year old notecard that once belonged to my grandmother. I know that it has to have been printed between 1965 and 1969 because it has the apartment’s address. My grandfather bought Apt. 2024 in 1965 (and died soon after). And my grandmother remarried in 1969, changing her last name to Weinhouse in the process, so it couldn’t have been any later than that.
These days, I’m using the cards for to-do lists. They’re made from nice, sturdy card stock and though they bear my current address, I find it somehow morbid to cross my grandmother’s name off and insert mine in order to use them. So notes and lists it is.