Molly is living with Lucy and is pretty low so there’s a lot of TLC and emotional chicken soup-ing going on. She is slowly getting responses from FEMA and her own insurance agent. She has appointments w heating, electric, plumbing guys starting today. She will be fine and her house will be a lot sturdier and nicer when all this is over and done with. I think that part of what is
distressing her so much is not her own situation — although she scrimped and
saved for this for a long time and it is her very first home) but the sheer
devastation of so many people in her town and all around us. She is a social
worker after all. And the stories are sad.
Otherwise, ferreting for berries and edible leaves in the woods, making shoes out of bark and bits of old rope.
Atlantic Highlands, the town, like all the others, is a shocking mess. Boats escaped the marina and are in the street across from the movie theatre, etc.
My brother Jim and sister Cathy are in very bad shape, really heartbreaking, so I feel so lucky.
My sister said, “We’re not having any fun, my other friends are having fun. It took three nights but she finally did have fun!”
We were discussing whether we were cranky. You can’t turn all the candles on
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Guess where I am — on a bus riding up route 36 to Port Authority! Believe me I thought those days were long behind me but NJ Transit is out so here I am.
Candy heaven
I’m not as think as you drunk
Polar bear
Jacques
I went to New York today, took the Academy bus that trundles along local Route 36 North. I cannot remember the last time I took a bus to New York and then arriving at “the Port” was like seeing a movie of my own life. Except now when you get off the bus, instead of that familiar squalor those of us who grew up taking the bus recall, the delightful scent of Cinnabon greets you and Vivaldi (I swear) was playing throughout the entire station. It’s more like an upscale terminal in a very new airport. Walking outside you first see the snazzy new-ish New York Times HQ and it is spectacular. There is a big beautiful Dean & DeLuca in their lobby, with open windows and wide doors welcoming all to croissants and espresso.
The Times Square area is really spiffed up, and all along the streets there are really nice restaurants like Pigalle, designed to look just like a corner spot in Paris, and Thalia (one of the three graces and muse of comedy, natch), but also and thankfully, Tad’s Steaks about which I once read a review that said, “Expect the worst and you won’t be disappointed!” They still have pre-poured glasses of wine, lined up on the counter, covered in saran wrap, just perched there.
Walking north up Eight Avenue you see all the fabulous and trashy things we all love like storefronts filled with Statues of Liberty, Empire State Building sculptures encased in Lucite cubes and “I Heart NY” everything. Also many t-shirts. Unlike in other cities where you get t-shirts that say, “My parents went to (city name here) and all they brought me was this lousy T-shirt,” New York storefronts proudly flaunt shirts that say “Rehab is for quitters,” “We’re not happy til you’re not happy, and “I’m not as think as you drunk I am,” etc. Fabulous and so refreshing.
I never knew this but on the corner of Eighth Avenue and 43rd Street you can buy a ticket for $35 and take a bus to Woodbury outlets in CT and there were many tourists from overseas doing that.
It was quite cold today so great to get to work and go straight to the second floor cafeteria for a little breakfast and start attacking those emails!
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