One sunny Friday afternoon we went to our local coffeeshop for a quick bite and then to the garage to get the car for our weekend drive to Connecticut. My fair-skinned husband is prone to sunburn so after putting the convertible top down, he rubbed sunscreen on his face. Then as he drove I was scrutinizing his profile, as wives in passenger seats are apt to do, when I noticed a drop of something white on his shirt collar. At the coffeeshop he’d complained there was too much mayo...
I grew up in the Bronx on McGraw Avenue, a tree-lined street that bordered the beautifully designed and landscaped apartment complex called Parkchester. (See Parkchester, Celebrate Me Home) There were six or eight stores on our street, a bar called The White Gander, and several private houses with ground floor offices. My dad had his medical practice in one of those offices and we lived “over the store” in what we thought was the nicest house on the block, with two...
Among my friends and the distaff side of my family are many very accomplished women – doctors, nurses and therapists, a pharmacist and a research scientist, lawyers, two judges and a diplomat, a film editor, a TV producer and a theatrical director, several writers and artists, a publisher and two poets. Also a master chef, an interior decorator, a chaplain, a rabbi and two cantors, singers and actresses, several school principals and many dedicated...
Waiting at the bus stop at Fifth Ave and 86th St the other day a young woman, probably in her 20s, asked me where she could get the limited. I told her it stopped about two blocks south, and she thanked me and started walking down Fifth. Then, checking my watch I realized I might be late for my own appointment. Wait for me, I called out, I’ll take the limited too. As we walked along together, predictably, the limited bus went rumbling past. You’re younger, I said, run...
Walking thru my building lobby on my way out to the dry cleaners, I realized my Dominican doorman was staring at the elaborately embroidered caftan I was carrying on my arm, bought by my son on a trip to Kazakstan. “This week is the Jewish holiday of Purim when we celebrate by getting drunk and dressing up in costumes.”, I explained with a smile. “Oh yes, we know,” said our Irish concierge from behind the lobby desk, “because every year just about this time Mrs...
Welcome to my blog World Thru Brown Eyes! Enjoy the read and please leave a comment and tell me how this old world looks thru YOUR eyes!
