Tea Gallery: The Cup of Tea

 

More Cassatt, more Met.  I love this one because it's such a cozy, relaxed pose, especially for the Victorian era.  And the tea-taker looks happy.  That's what tea's all about!

New Feature: Tea Gallery

Tea and the customs associated with it has inspires countless artists.  So I've decided to start yet another recurring feature, combining the arts and tea.  Today we have Mary Cassatt's Lady at Tea, at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where I'll probably get a large portion of this feature.

Teanyssimo!

I apologize for this rather blurry picture - I'm still struggling with evening mode.
Pineapples are a traditional sign of hospitality.


About a year ago, I had one of the worst restaurant experiences of my life.  Teany was going down the drain, and I didn't think I"d ever return.  In fact, I thought the place would close down for good.  Really, for good, because it was bad, so bad.

Still, I couldn't help being curious as to Teany's fate, so from time to time I'd check reviews on Yelp or other blogs.  For a while the negativity centered around those carrying online coupons.  Teany had new management, and they didn't see fit to honor these coupons.  But as time wore on, the negativity faded and I'd even read the occasional glowing review.  Wow, I thought.  Could Teany be on the mend? 

Then I got sick in July and switched to a mainly vegetarian diet.  Nowadays restaurants are pretty sensitive to people with dietary issues, so I could still visit most of my usual favorite places.  Teany kept popping into my mind, though, since I knew they were altogether meat-free, and quite a few items on their menu were vegan.  So one evening after work I thought, hey, let's give it one more try.

Well, I'm glad I did.  When I first got to Teany I noticed the new sign, which calls the place 'Teanyssimo'.  I was a little wary, since I don't equate tea with Italian food, but it's an exuberant expression and wouldn't deter me from pressing onward.  There were a number of patrons sitting outside, and when I got there I had the pick of seats inside, since nobody else was there.    I felt like I was at home - seriously, I did, because there's a bit of upholstery issues with some of the furniture, though not cat-related, and not enough to be a turnoff.   So I settled in. The girl working there was perfectly friendly and helpful, without being fussy.  That was already an improvement.

I gave Teany my ultimate test: I ordered Afternoon Tea.  Last time I'd tried that I was disappointed (they'd stopped serving it for the day although it was supposed to be an all-day thing.)  Now, however, not only did they have it, but at least two other patrons ordered it as well - including a party of about four who came inside.

Afternoon Tea was served thus: first I got the tea (iced rooibos, which was re-iced later on,) and a coconut almond scone.  The scone was warm and delicious, and served with cream that was close to butter and marmalade.  Already we're on the right track.  The sandwiches were next, presented in a three tiered tray with greens in the middle tier.  I had 'turkey' apple brie on a roll-type bread (not too hard) and a 'ham' and melted cheese that was superb.  They weren't dainty, but not awkward either.  The dessert was amazing - it was a vegan chocolate peanut butter cake.  I couldn't finish it, but that's only because I can't seem to finish anything rich these days.  And then the best part: the bill: it's still one of the lowest prices afternoon teas in New York! 
As for ambiance, the inside was cooled by fan which was fine for the weather.  The music was just okay - it sounded like they were playing 'elevator music' on Pandora.  I prefer this to loud and obnoxious, though.

It was all in all a good experience, so I think I shall return.  One more time should seal the deal.  If it's just as good or better I'll give it my full blessing.  If this time was nice but a fluke I'll forget about it.  I think that's fair.

Head in the Clouds

There's certain places that for me take on a shorthand of sorts.  When I say I'm going to The Park, it's Central Park.  The Brats are my kitties, The Afternoon Tea is Tea and Sympathy, and The Doctor is a Time Lord.  You can substitute "My" for "The", I suppose.  Well, "The" "My" Museum is the Met, or the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  It's my first museum and it's the one I've been to the most.  I believe I've covered every square inch of the place, with the exception of Staff-only rooms and Men's rooms.  Yet in all the years since my very first visit (almost 30, which is scary) I'd never been to the roof.  This had to be rectified.

On a recent Friday I got out of work early and took a walk through The Park, ending up at the Met around 4:30 I guess.  To get to the roof, I went through the Greek and Roman section, then right through the creepy 'Americas' area, to the designated elevator.  It was my third try: one week they were closing up, the next time it was a rainy day; but this time it was nice out. 

Though not everyone was dressed up, I felt like I was entering a party.  Drinks are served on the roof, at ridiculous cost of course, and people gather to relax over excellent views of the Park and the City (another 'The': referring to Manhattan).  There's a special interactive exhibit called 'Cloud City' that's on til' November.  It's free, but tickets are limited, so mine were for entrance in another two hours.  I didn't mind waiting: I got to see the new American Wing, which was worth it, and then I had a cup of tea in the cafeteria to pass the time.  It was Tazo Calm, in case you were wondering.

When it was my time to go inside the exhibit, I had to put my things away in provided lockers, so I didn't have my camera.  It was okay, certainly more good views, but I was a bit nervous because once you climb up to the top, the floors are see-through and I was wearing a skirt.  Yipes!

If you feel like waiting, it's not bad, but you're fine just going to the rooftop itself.

Looks kind of like bug-eyes.  See what I mean about wearing a skirt?

That's me on the far right with a purple top, taking a pic while I still could.

The Park

The Cats are All Right

 

 

Just thought I'd update you on my little guys, since I haven't done so in a while.  Can't believe they're both "mature" cats:  Zenobia is 7 and Moofer is 11.  Crazy how time flies, isn't it? I'm glad to say they are still quite active; neither have yet to lose their playfulness.  Zenobia should get another haircut, if only so that I can post ridiculous shaved pictures of her. 

I've been dragging a bit on my posting.  I feel like I've been dragging my feet in every avenue of my life right now, but I'm prepared to blame the summer.  With the bracing breezes of autumn fast approaching, I hope to get back on track.  There's a number of reviews in the works: museums, tea spots, books, etc.  I also just saw the newest episode of Doctor Who: "Asylum of the Daleks", but I'll leave that to someone else.  For some reason it's not in my nature to review television shows.  I just post nerdy pics of The Doctor on Pinterest and have done with it.  Also, I have a trip to London booked, and I'm beyond excited about that.  I'm also beyond broke, but when am I not?  I won't say exactly when I'm going, but you'll know when shots of Pre-Raphaelite paintings litter this site..(there's a big exhibition in the Tate)

In the meantime, here's one from the Met:

Burne-Jones, Le Chant d'Amour (excuse my French)

no tan for me!!

Crazy Long Walk: Philadelphia

 I recently had a chance to overnight in Philadelphia.  It was work-related, and though I've been away for work before - I was a travel agent a long time ago - it had been a really long time since I'd travelled for training purposes.  The last time had also been travel agent-related, and it was for a longer period of time.  Though my evenings were mine to do as I pleased, I had been staying in an area that was not pedestrian friendly.  In fact, when I tried to take a walk I was met with stares that seemed to indicate I was doing something slightly mad. 

In Philly, I only had one night to do my thing, but I stayed in an area that was extremely hospitable to foot traffic.  So I did what anyone of my temperament would do, and took a two hour walk around the city.   I had a wonderful time wandering around (not all who wander are lost and all that), and seeing one of the closest cities to New York on my own for the first time.  It wasn't a tea-related expedition, but not everything is.  The museums were by and large closed at that point, but I was able to take in art in different forms: architecture, design, and music.  There was music everywhere, coming loudly but not obnoxiously from various spots on nearly every block.  I heard a lot of jazz, which I don't equate with Philadelphia, but then again I'm not yet an expert on every aspect of the city's culture.  Anyway, I covered a lot of ground, worked up a good appetite, slept well, and reinforced my travel-fervor.  That's my kind of walk!

If I had to be a statue, I'd like to be her.  (Rittenhouse Square)

Cooling off after a hot day...(Logan Square)

The perfect name for a library.

Fountain, with City Hall looking on

The Post for July

It's not been the best month for me, what with the heat and then the humidity.  Then I ended up in the Emergency Room with dehydration, which means among other things that I haven't had a cup of real tea in over a week.  And I haven't had much to write about - I haven't even been reading at the pace I'm used to.  Still, it won't be July forever (sorry people who love the heat), so I'll be back to 'normal' pretty soon.  In the meantime, I leave you with some pictures from a June visit to Tea and Sympathy.  It was a 90-degree day that day, but the tearoom was air conditioned, and since most people don't fancy a cuppa on a day like that, it wasn't crowded - we had a window seat and at one point we were the only ones in the place.  It was, in a word, glorious.

Less is More

I'm the kind of person who has a hard time getting rid of stuff.  I wouldn't say I could be a subject for 'Hoarders': I throw things out constantly, and I'm not a compulsive shopper (anymore.)  But when it comes to certain unnecessary things, I have a habit of holding on to them for no good reason, and then when I finally get around to purging, it's such a relief I ask myself what took so long?  It basically comes down to procrastination. 

So the thing that took me forever to get rid of this time is cable TV.  Okay, you can say it doesn't take up a lot of space: after all, it's only a box (or in my case, two boxes, but they don't really collect dust.)  You can even argue that it doesn't necessarily take up time.  It's like anything you have, it only takes up the time you put into it, or get out of it.  There are plenty of people who would argue that in the age of DVR's and TIVO, you can budget your time by recording the shows you want to watch and only watching that.  Well, that should be true but for me it wasn't.  Even so, I wasn't chained to the TV by any means, but what was really bothering me was the monetary expense.  How could I, in my right mind, spend so much for so little?  In the end I'd gone down the basic package, so I didn't even have most of the good channels, yet I was still paying way too much. 

I try not to be a cheapskate.  There is a difference between being cheap and thrifty, though there's a fine line.  Still, the longer I kept cable, the more I'd do sums in my head, thinking of all the other things I could spend my money on.  Therein is the key:  if I think about things like rent and utilities, sure it's useful but it's not a satifactory means of saving.  So I operate on my Wishlist Currency: how many months of savings = another trip to London, Afternoon Teas, a fabulous pair of shoes, art books, or even a gadget I'd been eyeing.  Now all those cable shows don't sound as exciting, and certainly aren't as tangible. 

What really did it for me, though, was when I got around to calling my cable provider, in an attempt to find a lower priced TV/internet package.  I see ads all the time for deals that were more than half of what I was paying, for new customers, and that didn't seem fair.  In the past I'd call from time to time and get a small chunk of money lopped off my bill, and it seemed reasonable that this should happen again.  This time, though, the person I spoke to wouldn't budge.  Well, fine with me lady! 

So it's been a few weeks since I've been TV-less, and I have to say, I rarely notice it's missing.  Yes, I have Netflix, but that's dramatically cheaper, and I borrow DVD's from the library which is free.  In the future I'll probably get some sort of coverter/antennae so that I can have a couple of network channels, but I'm not even in a rush to do that.  Picking this time of year to quit was convenient, because most of the shows I follow are on hiatus, but even when Fall comes around I can watch them the next day online.  (I didn't have BBC America, so I'd have had to find another way to watch Doctor Who anyway.)  Actually, what I miss the most is the clocks on the two boxes I had to bring back, but that too shall pass. 

I don't know if this has been a rant or a smug back-patting moment - you decide.   All I can hope is that life is slightly less complicated.

A Somewhat Crazy Long Walk: High Line

It's hard to classify this walk as crazy, as it's designed to be walked from one end to another.  You could cut out early, but even if you walk the full length, it's maybe a mile at the moment.  What makes this more of a challenge is getting to the High Line in the first place.  The closest subway station is the 8th Avenue line, which means you still have to make it to 10th - and in my case, it seems I always start from a greater distance away.  Recently I came from Midtown East, and let me tell you, I'm glad I wore comfortable shoes.

Though the inception of the High Line as a public space began over a decade ago, it look time to convert the former elevated train tracks to something resembling a park, not to mention getting the support to do so.  There's a book out explaining its history, which incidentally is a lovely coffee table book, particularly for those who love anything New York.  What would you call that, by the way:  New Yorkophiles?  That sounds weird, but what can you do?  Anyway, it opened to the public in 2009, the year I took some of my craziest long walks, and it's lengthened gradually since then. 

Now the High Line has become immensely popular, which also makes it a little too crowded sometimes.  Still, it's no Grand Central Station, and for anyone looking to get some excellent bird's-eye views of the city, it shouldn't be missed.  If you're like me and hate stairs, quite a few exit points have elevators.  They've got it covered.





A panoramic view

The Lady's backside: guess she doesn't want your tired and poor anymore.

 A relaxing way to watch traffic

Leafy and potty

Kitty cat


These are only a handful of pictures I've taken up there.  It's certainly a photog's haven.

In keeping with the spirit of this blog, I have to say that on a nice day this would be a fantastic place to take tea in a slightly informal way. I've probably mentioned before that I don't possess any outdoor space of my own, so I can't do 'Tea in the Garden' on a whim.  With its decent amount of seating areas, though, something can certainly be made of the High Line.  There's enough entertainment in people watching, flower admiring, and skyscraper-gazing, on top of the fact that there's some actual live music here and there.  And, of course, one end of the park is by the Meatpacking district, just a scone's throw away from the West Village, which means Tea and Sympathy, The Tea Set, Bosie Tea Parlor, DAVIDs Tea, to mention only a few spots to pick up your tea and cakes if you didn't pack any.  Oh, and let's not forget Chelsea Market!  Don't worry about the calories...you can always walk them off.

A little note

It looks like I hit 6000 pageviews...it's always nice to know someone's looking.  Thanks for reading, everyone!!!

Iced Tea

Every day seems to be a National Something Day...Talk Like a Pirate Day, Pancake Day, Hairball Awareness Day...it goes on and on.  Some days seem to overlap, and I'm sure many are being created anew each year.  It's probably some big marketing ploy, but as long as there's no National Stab Someone on the Subway Day, I'm not going to complain about it.  I'm not going to observe it either, unless there's a coupon involved, or a coincidence. 

Last Sunday was apparently National Iced Tea Day, and I found myself experimenting with iced tea on Sunday...totally by happenstance.  It's something I've tried to perfect over the years, though I think in the long run iced tea is a matter of taste.

My first attempts that didn't involve mixing powder with water was well over a decade ago.  I remember using my old white 'brown betty' teapot - I still have that one, it's my first useful teapot purchase, but I rarely use it - to brew black tea extra strong, as per a recipe's requirements.  Then I boiled up some simple syrup, which later ended up being useful in making cocktails (the Mojito phase...), and then I combined the two liquids and refrigerated.  Later I poured the concoction over ice.  It was pretty good, though not exactly out of this world. 

Like all my tea drinking, with the exception of the occasional strong breakfast tea or chai I don't add sweetener.  To me, well made tea does not need to be sweetened, whether it's hot or cold.  And fruit teas really really don't need anything added to them.  Now I basically brew up slightly stronger tea in a pot, and pour over lots of ice in a tall glass (or thermos if I'm taking it to go,) and it's a lovely drink, especially in the summer.  If I serve others iced tea, I'll give them the option to sweeten, like I would with hot tea, but I prefer if they tasting before adding anything to it.  I won't express disapproval either way, since I still need iced coffee to be sweet (though not too sweet, and only natural sweeteners.  Ugh, I had a 'skinny' iced vanilla latte from Starbucks not long ago and well, like I just said, Ugh.) 

Back to Sunday, I had a small packet of Organic Saigon Chai from DAVIDsTEA.  On the label it encourages the user to 'try it iced, Viet-style, with sweetened condensed milk.'  Now, I've never been to Vietnam, don't know anyone close to me from Vietnam, and even if my Dad were still alive I don't think he'd have to many tea-drinking experiences, so I'm just going to have to take DAVIDs word for it.  Since chai is one of my sweetening exceptions, and I happened to have a can of sweetened condensed milk that cried out to be used, away I went.  This resulted in a delicious, refreshing glass of Sunday afternoon.

So where's the picture?  you may or may not be asking.  Well, I wasn't being lazy (not that lazy anyway), but I have to say it wasn't the most pleasing-looking beverage I've prepared.  It kind of looked like creamy rusty water.  Perhaps I hadn't made it strong enough.  So you'll have to take my word for it - it was good.

I decree every Sunday should be Iced Tea Day!...at least for the summer months.  Ice Cream Day, too. 

Crazy Long Walk: West Village

Normally, when I think of my long, long walks I think of covering a longer distance, like from Uptown to Downtown, or through a large park space.  It's not a stretch, though, to talk about wandering essentially one neighborhood, but in a pretty thorough fashion.

Recently, after a poor attempt at winning plane tickets, I had a lot of pent-up energy and a system full of iced tea - that courtesy of the new Alice's Tea Cup mini-shop in Books of Wonder.  So I took that energy and walked throughout most of the West Village, mostly window shopping but generally getting a bit of air, and a rare mild tan.

Though a good portion of Greenwich Village has given way to chain shops and restaurants, it's retained enough of its charm to still merit a visit from time to time.  There's plenty of independent places, and it feels like a step into the past while not seeming like a museum - nor does it seem contrived.  There are tourists about, but they don't clog up the pavement like they might in Midtown.

What I also like about this neighborhood is my ability to get lost without feeling lost.  If I'm looking for a particular street, I tend to veer off the wrong way, and manage to explore blocks I haven't seen in a while.  I decide that I must come back to these streets, and eventually I find my intended destination, if I even care to find it after all. 

Finally, it's one of my Teahoods - one of the largest concentration of favorite tea haunts in New York.  I only needed to mention that, probably, and you'd understand why I come here to wander when I can.

A record shop.  Yes, kids, we used to have these on every corner.  The 'For Rent' sign on the door is kind of freaking me out.

 

 Caffe Reggio - still going strong.  I must try sitting outside one day.

Pack in my college years, it was nearly impossible to find loose tea in New York outside of Chinatown.  I developed my habit by visiting places like Porto Rico and nearby McNulty's.  Sure, they smell overwhelmingly of coffee, but that not a bad thing.

A wonderful bookshop - I went to two Jasper Fforde signings here, and hope to one day watch one of their "radio dramas".  It's on Greenwich Avenue, just down the road from Tea and Sympathy.  Scones....

A beautifully aloof kitty on MacDougal Street.


When I think of clean clothes, Van Gogh's name rarely springs to mind, but this place is gorgeous. 

Our Mutual Book

I still seem to be carrying on the habit of reading two Dickens books a year.   It seems pretty reasonable for a reader like me anyway.  I don't read in the order he wrote usually, but it seems that recently I've been in his later years.  Our Mutual Friend was his last completed novel, and I'd say one of his best. 

He seems to have toned down slightly on the ridiculous at this point.  I mean, everyone's still interconnected - it wouldn't be a Dickens novel without coincidence, but it's woven in a marginally more believable way.  The names are still sometimes goofy - can you say Boffin without smiling?  and of course Sloppy is a funny name, but it's a nickname (I think).  People are still caricatures, but with an air of seriousness, like Jenny Wren who makes the same complaint over and over again, but instead of making her pathetic, she is a truly resourceful, hardworking person who puts up with disability and a hopelessly alcoholic father by being eccentric enough to cope with everything.  The ladies are less simpering - you couldn't imagine Lizzie Hexam offering to sharpen her husband's pens to keep herself occupied - and while I wasn't necessarily enamored with any of the male protagonists, at least a few of them were people I wouldn't mind knowing - Noddy Wilfer, for instance, seemed like a cool guy to have as a dad.  Indeed, this book could almost have been titled Fathers and Daughters, there were so many of these important pairings. 

In Our Mutual Friend (I would have initialized the title but it might be mistaken for an texpletive,) class distinction is put under the microscope.  Even at the time of publication, readers may have started to ask themselves, are high class people really classier?  Does education make you 'better', or arrogant?  In the end you could say there's good and messed up in every level of society.  Food for thought at a period where the middle class was in development.

I'd started this book at the end of last year, with Bonnie, as Our Mutual Reading, but both of us petered off for a while.  I have to admit I ended up finishing my reading electronically.  It didn't take away from the enjoyment of the process, but I wouldn't recommend it for some of Dickens' other books, where you really really really have to keep going back to remember the cast of characters.  iPads might have a different feeling - I'll have to ask Bonnie...whenever she finishes reading. 

The Crazy Long Walk

I'm a walker.  Not a runner, driver, biker, or skater, just a walker.  I love to walk, plain and simple.  I even like the word 'walk' - it's one of the few words that bring out the New York accent in me.  If I feel like being fancy, though, especially if I'm carrying a parasol, I might say 'promenade', or even the Austen-tatious 'take a turn'.

However, I don't like having to walk.  There's a difference.  On a nice, or at least decent day, if a place is within walking distance, which for me could be a few miles depending on footwear and what I'm carrying, then I want to hoof it.  If the weather is daunting, or I'm not feeling too well, or for any other whiny reason, I will make a fuss if I 'have' to walk. 

Those who live in car-only regions might shudder at the lengths I'll walk to, though the same people have no problem with spending hours at the gym or participating in some exhausting sport or other.  I'm not at all sporty, and am certainly not an adventurous person physically, so this is it for me.  Here's why it's my thing:

Taking in the Scenery

Sure, you can see a lot from an automobile, but it's more of a passing glance than a true soak-in.  When you're on your feet, you can stop without waiting for the next exit (though I don't recommend stopping while crossing the street.  That's just dangerous.)  And you can get the sense of a city this way - the gradual changes in neighborhoods, the endless shops, restaurants, and people.  Though I don't like crowds, I do have my people-watching moments, and this is a way to observe humanity without commitment.  If you really want to look at people, though, take a hint from my dearly departed Grammie and sit in a parked car.  I promise you, you will see some crazy stuff.  

Dogs are always fun to watch too.   They are so happy to be outside and moving, and the mood is just contagious.  Not to mention the fact that they're usually cuter than the people (this coming from a cat person!)

Burn It!

Did I mention I'm not a fan of exercising?  I don't hate it, but there's a reason why every gym membership I've had has lapsed into non-renewal, even the ultra-cheap Planet Fitness one (I've spent more money in Starbucks during one sitting than in one month's membership.)  I get tired of going somewhere, changing into workout clothes, and then spending a chunk of time in public sweating and panting.  Somehow, though, I must burn those cake-induced calories, and walking is my way.   It's one of the few ways I move where I don't wear out quickly, and I'm usually the one in a group that wants to keep going, while everyone else has called it a day.  I'm also brisk walker, so there is a measure of working out going on.  I'm trying to wear the proper shoes, though, because I'm usually traversing on concrete, and with the wrong footwear it's damaging to the rest of the body to go the distance. 

Cheaper!

Besides the cost of footwear, it costs absolutely nothing.  You can't find fault with that!

Endorphins and Whatnot

I love to relax at home with a good book and some hot tea when it's pouring out, or retreat to the a/c when it's sticky out.  But when the weather's bad for walking for a long stretch, I start to feel gloomy.  After a substantial hike, though, my mood tends to be at its best.  There's scientific explanations for this, but I'm not a scientist, so suffice it to say it does a body good in more ways than one.

Photo Op!

Again, you see so much when you cover lots of territory, and you'll probably want to remember what you see.  Carrying a camera certainly helps keep the memories alive, and let's stop there before this turns into a greeting card.

I've kept a semi-regular New York photo blog, and most of the pictures were taken from the marathon walking sessions.  Here, though, I'm going to have a new feature, covering some of my favorite long walks.  It's almost the reverse of the 'Wish You Were Here' feature, because there I tend to want places to be a short distance from my home.   So, new paths coming soon!

Seven

I've been blogging for seven years.  There's been a few changes to format -  I've reorganized a little, changed the name of my main blog - and I don't post as frequently.  Even so, I'm pleased that I've kept this online record, and can look back on many tea times and whiny moments with some sense of clarity.  So cheers to me!

If Catherine can't come to Britain...

A few months ago I had every intention of returning to Britain in April 2012.  Then other plans/money/issues/life got in the way, so I had to postpone the trip.  It was a little disappointing, but I've been learning patience in so many avenues of my life, so it's really okay.  Resourceful person that I am, I try to find mini-trips, or at least pockets of time that make me feel that I might be elsewhere.

This happened in a big way last Thursday, when I found out that Doctor Who was filming in NYC.  This almost never happens - usually they're in Wales or London, so it was bizarre to find the actors actually shooting scenes within ten blocks of my place of work!  Sadly, I only found out on the day of and didn't have my camera with me.  My cellphone has a camera, but honestly I can draw better pictures.  And I draw like a blind ape.  Still, standing in Tudor Place with a crowd of Whovians, watching 'The Doctor and Amy Pond' riding a 1930's car and running over and over again is something that won't leave my mental photo album for a long time.  Besides, plenty of people have posted their photos of the day online: I've even seen the back of my head in some of them!

Then there was Friday evening, which was mostly New Yorkish: after work I hiked to the High Line, walked most of its length, and exited by Chelsea Market.  It was a good place to take my camera, which I finally brought with me.  Then I bought some chips at A Salt and Battery and sat outside watching the interesting people of the West Village pass by.  Nearly everyone made a comment about the fish and chip shop, or the next door Tea and Sympathy.  So, close enough.

Now, I'm not a parade person.  Crowds and loud noises are things I usually flee from, and I'd done enough on Thursday evening.  But Saturday was gorgeous out, so I found myself at the tail end of the Tartan Day Parade in Midtown.  This way I got to see all the kilts without the headache.  And I do love the kilts! I did a whole paper on them in college.  Sigh.  Anyway:





Bagpipes!!!!!


I love the outfit of the girl on the right. 


Scotties everywhere!  So well behaved, too.
Correction (thanks, Doug): they're West Highland White Terriers.  Still well behaved.



Since it's been a really long time since I've been to Scotland, it was certainly a pleasure to see this little reminder.  I'd love to go back again, especially now that I'm knowledgeable about its history, culture and of course literature.  On my one and only trip, all I knew about Scotland was haggis (which I still haven't tried,) the Loch Ness monster (which I don't care about anyway,) and that my grandfather had been born there.  I also knew some lyrics from a folk song about Bonnie Prince Charlie, but as a kid I thought it might have been about a mythical figure.  So it's time to return, but in the meantime, we get our little reminders here and there in my hometown.