Sunday Evening, 10 PM

Usually, I tend to do the late night walk around the block...or two.

Tonight, with the crowds so thick in our area, I put our long walk at the end of the day. The same route was done at the usual times, but, tonight was a long, long one...down through SoHo, silent streets, lights shimmering from storefronts, a man taking photos of a shuttered store.

He stopped us to take shots of the dogs, stark black and white with a Rolleiflex....it creates a 4x4 negative... and makes amazing pieces of art.

The cars were backed up trying to get though the Tunnel. It always makes me laugh to think of how people honk their horns at the halted cars in front of them, as if they are stopped only to cause annoyance to those behind them, and that the honking will make things magically change. It's the big, expensive cars that sit silently... the small, tin cars honk... exhaust blowing versions of the dogs. One solid and silent, one small and bouncing at everyone bigger than she is.

There were streets where we were the only people on the block. On a few, you could look into the various restaurants and see people laughing, enjoying themselves. Most of those had at least two smokers outside, bundled up against the snap in the air. New York has two classes of citizens.. smokers and non. With cigarettes at almost $7 a pack, it's an expensive habit. I'm surprised at the number of 20somethings that smoke, and of those, the number of women. Some excuse it by saying they smoke cherry cigarettes or some other such flavour. Interesting, to say the least....it still smells.

I am no saint...during production week, I smoke. I'd drink if I had it.... back then, I didn't. This new show, well, we'll see. ha!

The biggest issue is the pit bull's insistence on watering every tree. Every bag. Every post. It lengthens our trip. Still, the air was clear... it had snowed that morning, spitting a last defiant portion of winter. The last blocks home saw families leaving various doorways to apartments and lofts. Children held Easter baskets, running about from sugar excess... although here, it may be tofu excess.

I miss my children. Every year, I make them a basket, the ones they've had since they were born. I didn't think to take those with me when I left.... I don't know why. I would have packed them up and sent them winging back there, filled with candy and that horrible grass and love. I forgot.

I'm sorry my sweets. I love you, I miss you... the Easter bunny was overcome by New York and finding an apartment...no excuse, but, the best I can do.

I love you forever.