At least I haven't been spending so much time in restaurants. Thursday morning Mary and I went out to the botanic garden in the Bronx. The well-advertised exhibit wasn't so spectacular, but the Poet's Walk and the lily pond were spectacular. Here is a photo of someone doing a tricky bit of photography. Just imagine if the camera dropped into the water.
Dinner was a long visit with Jean at another restaurant, but I've been sticking to salads.
Friday was a real walking day. Phyllis and I went up on the High Line. This is a real winner. The city converted an old railroad track into a long, skinny park. It's a great place: you can see into back yards, roof gardens and other usually hidden places.
No dates today so I went down to Union Square by myself. I was going to go out to Brooklyn to a Saturday event called a Smorgasburg–more food–but opted instead for a street fair in the village. Bought more earrings, and a Mozzarepa for lunch; wandered through the green market in Union Square then over to Lincoln Center, hoping to get a ticket for War Horse. No luck. Looked at quilts at the folk art museum, walked over to Lee's Art Supply to check for more paper; finally got a bus and I'm vegging out at the apartment.
I'm worried: if I can't get through three weeks in NY, how will I do six weeks in Japan next year. Maybe it's the heat.