if you know brooklyn well, you're probably scratching your head.
yes, that's the triboro bridge we came in on.
(does that view ever become not stunning?)
and yes, there we are in greenpoint.
(walked around, browsed a thrift store.)
and then yep. that's us at vinegar hill house.
the three of us.
(in the garden!)
(coke in a bottle, and a bottle of beer, and a bandol rose and a cheese plate.)
(and then they put the lights on!)
and then to red hook, to pick up tim's mom.
(sorry for the late notice, but so glad it worked. love you.)
caveats to me about frankies not being the cheap red-sauce joint i envisioned...
but, onward.
onward to frankies, and an "hour's wait."
one drink in a dreamy little outdoor alcove
and alas,
a table materialized.
(in the garden!)
more soda, more beer, more wine.
(caesar salad, homemade pasta.)
and the lights were on,
and a little magical.
anna sort of asleep on my lap, at last.
then back home, across the brooklyn bridge,
up the fdr.
bridges sparkling like lit-up pearls,
looking just as i remember them
sleepy in the back seat
when i was six.
the best night i can remember in a long time.
and that's saying something.
::
and tonight,
girls.
girls home soon.
best wishes.
xo,
tt
