I was looking forward to blogging on the train earlier, about the fact that it officially felt like summer, and then I actually got on the train. It was full. On a Sunday at 7pm. Wtf? I wondered quietly. It was full of families on their way home from Coney Island. Which should have added to my cheerfullness but really just terrified me a little. So much energy. A friend of mine told me that she looked up how to deal with with living across the street from a school in and there wasn't one. This is the second home I've had in New York a block from a school and I can see why. So much energy. And it's beautiful and powerfully creative and in theory I sort of worship it. I just don't want to be around it. I need my solitude. However when a little boy touched my ring where my hand held the pole above his head and then looked at me, waiting for my reaction, I couldn't help but smile. Little moments.
I spent the better part of the rest of the evening preparing an elaborate pasta salad for tomorrow's festivities in Prospect Park. I mixed whole wheat and semolina fusilli pastas with tuna, capers, olives, tomatoes, some hard boiled egg, a little onion and garlic, and in the morning I'll stir in some chopped parsley, baby spinach, and arugula, and a shake of crushed red pepper for a little kick, a little olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Yum.
