Today is Canadian Thanksgiving. We were invited to a luncheon party out in the country (turkey, sweet potatoes, chestnut puree...) but couldn't go because of work deadlines. We worked hard all day and tonight, in honor of the holiday, I roasted a small chicken with potatoes and carrots, and we ate slowly and enjoyed every bite.
Friday was a very busy day in New York. In the morning, we took the No. 1 train far uptown to meet with a blogger friend who shall remain nameless. Bearing orange roses, we arrived at the sixth floor...much tea was drunk, much conversation was had in the warm yellow living room filled with books, music, and animated discussion. Then a quick trip downtown and under the river, back to Brooklyn, where I had a three-hour meeting with the publisher who is interested in my book on Bishop Gene Robinson, then back to the apartment we were staying in - me bearing a box of pizza, J. staying behind for a half hour to take pictures of the light-studded city, set in a mood indigo sky. In the evening, Gene's daughter arrived for an interview, accompanied by beer and pizza, and then I collapsed into sleep.
(I love it that you can always buy hard boiled eggs in New York delis, to go along with your bagel and lox - or just eat plain. It must be a Jewish thing.)
On Saturday, we drove back to Montreal in torrential rain which lasted until we were nearly through the Adirondacks: red and gold behind a curtain of fog.
I roasted a turkey on that day, too--not knowing it was Canadian Thanksgiving, but perhaps instinctively connected with all my Candadian friend. Thanks for sharing your keen observations of Manhattan and your wonderful photographs. Visiting a potential publisher? That sounds like my version of nirvana--though of course, I know it's not.
Posted by: patry Francis | October 12, 2005 at 10:14 PM