Come for the Coffee and Bubble Tea!

http://www.kewgardenscivic.org/special-008.html
Bliss Gourmet Cafe @ Kew Gardens, NY

6th Avenue and 42nd Street

Paper-based, Legos-like, Japanese-made toy constructions.

As seen in Kinokuniya Bookstore's basement floor.

*We also saw plush and chibi Totoro.

Hi-def Sunday

Man apparently cannot live by public television alone but by installing Time Warner Cable.

Keeping Friends

Living next to a railway conjures up romantic notions of travel. From the patio I can people-watch; I see the people lighted up inside each train car at night. I remember the commute that consumed me last year, traveling from the far reaches of Suffolk to the inner hot, busy mass of Manhattan. Once, I read about a middle-aged man who commuted 3 hours one-way to work. He told the reporter that he enjoys the commute because he gets to know so many people along the way. I believed in this man's sincerity, but I often wondered afterward what motivated him to reach out to strangers. It can't be sheer personality or even curiosity; I myself am frequently discouraged by the possibility of failure, shame, and regret.
I concluded that this man must have a boundless love of people; and therein lies the source of his courage.

Crocuses

This was plucked from Forest Park sometime last month. It was still early in the morning and the warming light of the sun didn't quite wake the sleeping crocus beds. Then slowly, unobserved, it opened.
It's April now, still a brisk wintry chill outside, but the trees are budding, some flowering pastels, and if the birds gave human voice to their singing they would chirp: "It's time for planting. It is spring once again, and all is well with the world."

to train a truffle pig

Gustave did not know that historically, thus naturally, truffle pigs were of the female disposition. Now Gustave, being wholly male and not at all disposed to being female, would soon find out that he was naturally disposed to truffle hunting, masculinity aside.
The night passed slowly, low deep snores from inside the farmer's hut and within the pig's pen punctuated the stillness.
The morning brought with it the warmth of sunlight and an air of promise. The farmer woke up with a smile. He stretched languorously, yawned wide and loud, got out of his bed and put on his earth-stained clothes. His muddy boots sat ready near the door, and after putting on threadbare but carefully patched woolen socks. He trudged out towards the pigpen.
Gustave lay on his side, still dreaming on the cool ground.
The farmer whistled and said, "Wake up pig. It's a glorious day for truffle hunting."
Gustave let out a contented, fitful sigh but did not wake up.
The farmer shook his head and reached for a thin rope looped around a fence post. He opened the pen door, and leaving it open, he walked towards Gustave.
Gustave's ears caught the soft sound of walking, and his eyes, curious now to the world around him also woke up and opened. By the time the farmer reached him Gustave was standing up and facing him. Gustave eyed the farmer and the rope hung loosely around his hand.
"Don't worry Gustave. It's just to be around your neck to teach and guide. 'Tis never for hitting or hurting."
Gustave, mild-mannered and equally trusting, grunted his consent.
The farmer patted Gustave's neck and looped the rope around his neck.
"I ought to tell you friend that truffle hunting is a tricky and trickster business. There is also the curious case of you being a Gustave-pig and not a sow. But oddities and miracles do you happen in the world and well this part of it is long due for one."
Gustave eyed the farmer, he had no idea what it mean to truffle hunt, or of miracles. Gustave was sure, as his stomach was certain, that morning meant food first.
The farmer raised his eyebrow and tilted his head, "Yes, you're right. Grub first."

Hey! that's totally this blog

from Answers.com:

Blogs: Dirty Pretty Snow
Home > Library > Miscellaneous > Blogs
Curare
http://dirtyprettysnow.blogspot.com
Personal blog posting interests in books, travel, movies, eateries, and current events. Also posts nonfiction and fiction pieces. Posts includes photos/pictures related to content.

6 Miles of Queens

A volunteer stint at Knit Warm, via NYCares, inspired a deep hankering for knitting needles, yarn, and all things woolly. A trip to Smiley's Yarn was in order. It looked walkable from the apartment, and since we're always game for a good jaunt we embarked on the 4-mile trip. Walking along the periphery of Forest Park, and into the heart of residential Queens, past whole neighborhoods we arrived at busy Jamaica Avenue. SmileysYarn was a messy, no-nonsense outlet of all things knit and crochet. The cash-only option prevented me from possibly maxing out my credit card.
Euphoric from the brisk, sunny walk and a plastic full of discounted 100% wool, we decided to continue on towards Borders. Unbeknownst to us, that would require a 2-mile sojourn following the vein of Woodhaven Boulevard.
Upon arrival, we gulped down a cappucino and gobbled down Raisinets. All in all, a fruitful day.
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Happy Valentines's Day

After a hard night's work 'twas great to see breakfast ready for gobbling.
Menu: maple syrup + pancakes, grapefruit/orange juice, applewood smoked bacon, french butter, over-easy eggs, and a selection of fruit jams.