Patiently waiting for Sandy’s Left Hook Punch to hit the NYC area. First, we picked up Mom from Spring Creek – where there’s a threat of a storm surge – and then evacuated a friend’s mother who lives in Lido Beach – in flood zone A. Enzo and I secured our new Piaggio BV 350s safely in the shed and pulled our two Honda cycles into the backyard and covered them with a tarp. After a rather low-key and civilized shopping experience at the BJs at Canarsie Market – we are now stocked up with enough food for a week or two. For dinner, we poured the wine, said a berucha for a passover without incident. Elijah should be here any minute now.
It is eerily calm outside, a soft breeze with a bit of aged leaves and patchouli in the air. I walked to Lords Bakery for some apple pie and ice-cream and got there just before Andrew was closing up. Flatbush Junction was like a ghost town. With the trains already shut down, taxi cab drivers hawked for dollar fares to wherever. The walk back home was equally enjoyable. The rustle of leaves, the wind chasing debris down the avenue, turning down onto our ancient tree-lined street, an arboretum of towering century-old beauties – I wondered whether these gentle giants might uproot and wreak havoc on these historic and picturesque Dutch colonials – each one unique in their own design.
Earlier today on our garden terrace, I took pictures of our purple mums that finally all opened this week. The rust and burnt orange mums in the front yard have yet to all bloom. I’m hoping they aren’t Sandy blasted into oblivion.