Good morning from slightly warm, slightly sunny Vermont. Today my blog is all about our visit to New York City. The big picture? We had a wonderful trip. But here are some small pictures. Hell’s Kitchen, now gentrified (at least the part we saw). Brick residential buildings in the distance, shops and eateries beckoning passersby. We stepped into a Japanese restaurant for ramen and listened to our table neighbors slurping their portions to get the maximum amount of air for heightened taste. We stopped at a higher-end thrift shop as well. Thrifting is alive and well in NYC.
We toured the garment district, and my friend and her brother got lost in the beautiful bolts of fabric, rows and rows of them, ready to turn into skirts, pants, dresses, and vests. One particular bolt drew me to it. I touched its quirky black and blue pattern, and quickly pulled my hand away when our tour guide informed me it was $100 a yard. My friend bested me though. She touched fabric that was $269 a yard. Brave, wasn’t she?
Macy’s. The Empire State Building. Time’s Square. The Rockefeller Center and its iconic skating rink. The New York Times Building. St. Patrick’s Cathedral. The Flatiron Building. Trump Tower. Radio City Music Hall. City Bakery, where we had the best hot chocolate of our lives. Outside, it was brutal and bitter cold. Still we walked, up and down avenues and streets. We walked until we were practically lame.
We walked the theater district as our guide pointed out all of the places he had performed as a musician in the pit. He lived Broadway, and through is eyes and explanations, through his stories, we acquired our own reference points, our own stories of “how we knew a friend who played there…”
We thrifted more–I found a sweater and work shoes. On a whim, my friend drew us into a tea shop, where we experienced a proper Chinese tea. Waking up the tea pot, waking up the buffalo, with gentle hands always. Our tea leaves came from a 500-year old tree. I never saw that before in Vermont.
And then the grand finale, attending the New Jersey Symphony for Bach and Ravel. The music and musicians memorized me. At the end, as we were clapping and clapping, I waited for an encore. But no. I wrenched myself from the magic and smiled all the way home.
My friend and I, in the car from and to Vermont, we talked and talked about everything you could imagine, while Livia Miri hung out in the back sketching beautiful pictures of ladies’ faces and flowers. Every now and then she’d pipe up. This was a trip stitched with memories that will hold for years. I am so grateful to have spent this special time with my daughter, my dear friend, and her family. What will our next adventure be?
Check back next week for another segment of Finding Home.