being a manhattanite can be a strange kinda addiction
today was a gorgeous day
and i was thrilled to remove myself from my HUGE funk
and hop a train to upper Westchester to see the house (mansion) my old pals
anne marie and jamie bought
honey this house was like out of a bed and breakfast dream
yellow, sweet, old
with 18 rooms
3.5 baths
tons of antiques
wrap-a-round porch
clawfoot tubs
land
swings
and
um
land
roaring fire
6 burner stove
and umm land
and to make things just perfect
an adorable 11 month old baby boy
an aging but perky golden retriever
and a kitten on the way
sigh
it was like being in somebody elses all American dream
and anne marie
always the hostess with the mostess
took me antiqueing
then sat me in front of the fire while she
cooked her down-home recipe for fried chicken
for supper
it was great really
and part of me didn't want to leave
but taking the train back to the city
i thought about how great it would be to live in a house instead of a one bedroom apartment
to have land instead of a fire escape
to hear birds instead of sirens
to smell air
instead of the Con Edison plant
but once i stepped out of my cab
passed a homeless man
swung past the corner bodega
and looked down my block
i knew i was home
home is where the bums pee
the grass is covered in concrete
and the sanitation guys wake you screaming "mother-fucker" at 6:00 am
god i love new york!!
FYI
anne marie and jamie
i'm still available for weekends
wink
