|Pretty Hen at the Met|
Lovely day in New York. Here to see Arin and baby Alli before we leave the coast. We drove into the city from Westchester County and the she had on all of her jewels. I've never been here when the city was so green, the trees heavy with summer.
We found a miraculous parking spot on the Upper East Side and walked to the Met. I pushed Hen in the stroller and she stopped people in their tracks with her cuteness, as she tends to do.
She had a little foam W she was playing with and chewing on and she kept dropping it. I'd have a feeling she dropped it and I'd turn and see it there in the middle of the gallery, a security guard advancing to pick it up and return it to us.
I held her hands and walked her through the galleries, crowds of people parting around us. I didn't even look up to make sure they would. I just proceeded, Hen's tiny feet slapping forward like a dainty Frankenstein monster.
|Pretty harp at the Met|
On a small elevator, on our way to meet Arin and Lucas and Alli in the Impressionist galleries, a woman looked up and all around her, then asked, in a British accent, "Is that the sound of the sea?" I was so pleased to tell her that it was.