Praise then darkness, and creation unfinished

There are some nice lilacs in my neighborhood, and I grew up with a lilac in the back yard,

Part of what I like about going to the Arboretum, and botanical gardens, is the variety of kinds of lilac, sometimes with noticeably different scents. The arboretum here has a good lilac collection; the Brooklyn Botanic* Garden has an excellent one. The one in Brooklyn is much easier for me to go from shrub to shrub, sniffing, and not worry about falling; the Arnold Arboretum is hillier, and has more non-lilac bushes and even trees planted among the lilacs.

When I lived in New York, I went to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden more often than to the New York Botanical Garden (in the Bronx). I think the one in the Bronx had easier transit access from our home, but if I was taking that bus I was usually going to the Bronx Zoo; if I took the train to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, I was going either there or to the Brooklyn Museum. I did once go to the zoo on my way to the Botanic Garden, because it was February and I was on a bus from downtown Brooklyn that passed the zoo, and my zoo membership card lived in my pocket.

There's a smaller botanical garden in Queens, tucked into Flushing Meadow Park, as is the Queens Zoo. My parents took us there sometimes, because we lived in Queens and could drive there. As an adult, I went by myself a couple of times, if I was in that part of Queens for some other reason; it's not convenient by transit starting from the part of Upper Manhattan that we sometimes referred to as "Baja Bronx."

*Yes, Brooklyn Botanic Garden and New York Botanical Garden. I assume this terminology is for historical reasons, along with there being two really excellent botanical gardens in the same city.

We had one full day in New York on this trip, and cattitude spent part of it visiting a friend on the Island. adrian_turtle and I met my mother at the Cloisters at around noon. On our way uptown, we'd gotten into line for a Metrocard vending machine when a stranger came over to the line and asked if we had just gotten into the city. When we and the woman in front of us said yes, she handed us each an unlimited-ride Metrocard with four days left on it, saying that she was leaving town and didn't want them to go to waste. The woman in front of us asked "how much?" and the donor shook her head and said "Merry Christmas."

The trip uptown was unremarkable, and I found that I have a good memory for the details of that trip, including the irrelevant ones: I knew we were approaching 110th when the track sloped downward, and then (having lost count of stations) recognized 145th by the color of the pillars supporting the roof.

Adrian was delighted by the Cloisters, including the famous Unicorn Tapestries. This visit what caught my eye most was sculpture and artifacts (including a unicorn-shaped hand-washing pitcher in the room with those tapestries); when we went downstairs to the Treasury, I pointed out the wooden carvings on the staircase we had just descended. We had time to look at almost everything before we decided it was past time for lunch, which we got at the diner Cattitude and I used to go to regularly when we lived in Inwood. The staff has changed and the menu is shorter than it was, but it was basic good diner food, and they still know how to make tea.

Then we took the train down to the Village so we could go to Varsano's, my old favorite chocolate shop, which roadnotes had first introduced me to. I was pleasantly surprised not to have to wait (the Saturday right before Christmas), and we bought lots of interesting chocolate. My mother asked the difference between a lemon cream and a lemon truffle. I wasn't sure and asked the shop assistant; she passed the question to Mark Varsano, who explained and then put one of each on the counter for Mom to taste.

After I'd paid for my chocolate, Mark said something like "I still miss our friend," meaning Roadnotes, and we talked about her a little; one thing he mentioned was her dry sense of humor. I'd been afraid I would have to be the one to tell him she had died, and warned Adrian on our way downtown that I might need my hand held—but it's unsurprising that the same "small town that just happens to have eight million people" feeling that had Mark asking me how she was after she moved to Seattle means he'd gotten the sad news from some other mutual friend.

( here there be politics, but relatively low-stress, I think )

The day involved a lot of walking, including at least ten flights of stairs; by the time we headed back to our hotel my ankles were complaining about the stairs in front of my aunt's building, but my knee and hips were (and are) doing okay.

Misc comments 54 (from two years ago, but apparently never posted): ( memories, lists of books, new york city )

As of an hour or so ago, the record snowfall in Central Park [1] is 26.9 inches (68. cm). The records go back to 1869.

Fortunately, we have good snow-clearing equipment, and 21st-century technology gave the city some warning that it would be needed overnight and today.

[1] This is the most official and longest set of records for New York City, though the airports also measure weather.