When I was a kid, I used to go to the park at the end of my street everyday. My mom would walk me down in the morning and then would come back for me at dinner time. She told me that I would cry the whole way home. Now Holden cries when I put him back in the stroller
Holden and I visit a little parkette beside an abandoned truck lot in our neighbourhood everyday. It is actually a sweet little shaded park with three slide options, which is a big bonus for Holden (notsomuch for my arms). There is never anyone in the park. No kids, no parents, no dogs. No body.
Once, a man shuffled into the park while we were playing on the swings. He held a paper bag and had a wisps of greasy hair poking out from a black baseball cap. He sat on a bench and pulled a bottle out of the paper bag. Then he looked up and saw us, gave a disgusted look, put the bottle back in the bag and shuffled off again.
Another time, I frazzled mother and her 4-year-old son came marching into the park. David and I were taking turns hauling Holden up to the top of the slide.
“Here” she demanded and passed her son a plastic bag containing a red shovel and some bucket contraption, “Play there.” He dutifully played in the sand until she got a call on her cell phone a few minutes later. Cigarette butt dangling from her hands she yelped into the phone, “Now, You have it now?….OK. I’m coming!”
“Quick! Quick! Quick! We have to go!” she gasped at her son. She shoved the plastic bag under her son’s nose. “Put them in there. Quick!” He hurriedly put the toys away and scrambled after her. They ran across the street dodging traffic, the plastic bag clutched in the boy’s hands, trailing after them in the wind.
Yesterday, an old man walked into the park with a plastic bag while Holden and I were playing with the x’s and o’s. I prepared myself. He carefully sat down on a bench and opened up his bag. He reached inside and pulled out a flat tupperware container, and then opened that up. Inside was a peanut butter sandwich, which he ate slowly and quietly in the shade. Holden crawled over to the slide and we went down together. The old man looked at us and we slid.
“Wheeee!” he cried, mouth filled with peanut butter.
I shouldn’t expect anything to stay the same.
Stan: I don’t know if people are too interested in my New York post
David: Well there isn’t anything about yoga in it. They probably don’t know what to say.
Stan: Well, there’s the baby…
David: You should post the family picture with Sharath. That will put New York in context for everyone.
The Lead up to the Family Sharath Portrait:
Here is a picture that Tova took for us. We handed Sharath The Baby and he started crying (baby not Sharath). You can see the look of fear and distrust on Holden’s face. The picture before that, which I won’t post because I think I look stupid in it, has Sharath holding the crying baby while the rest of us, oblivious, are smiling at the camera. Sharath has this look, that he actually often gets, like – “How did I get here?”
Mercedes’ arm is in this picture, but not the rest of her. This is not because of Tova’s photography skillz, which are quite good. I just didn’t think she would like that picture being posted. Alice has a nice picture that she took of David, Mercedes, Sharath and Shraddha here.
My yoga practice has been chugging along. I reached a point, post-pardum, where it didn’t hugely suck to relearn everything again. It was funny, because I was totally convinced that I would have to quit Ashtanga. Mostly because it is too hard. But I came home from New York and turned a corner. My body just started to “get” things again. Every practice seems like a treat – which will not last – but I am enjoying it. Yesterday I got a pose past where I was pre-pregnancy. Woot! Except that the pose is tittibhasana, so that sucks a little. Anyway, I’m back and it is awesome.
We went to New York in April. We stayed in a room the size of my laundry basket. I thought that would be crummy, but I love my family so much – it was an adventure.
We went to Central Park
We ate a lot of food prepared by disgruntled Whole Foods workers. We also ate at Souen.
We had dinner with Momo, Alice, Devora, Nancy and Aileen. Holden and I had coffee with our American friends Tova and LiAsh. Catching up was awesome. Here is a picture of Alice so I can invade her privacy.
Holden saw some art.
Often when we travel, we tend to look like refugees.
Now we are home, and Holden is almost walking and very fond of chickens.