Honk

 They speak another language here in New York. 
It is called 'Honk'. 
This language is spoken at all hours. 
Day and night someone is speaking it.
They speak to each other.
They speak to themselves.

My favourite honk-talkers are the Harlem taxi cab drivers who give a friendly little 'toot toot' when they drive past as if to say, "Hey!  You wanna ride?"

All In A Day's Work

Joe and I started our Monday at the Museum of Modern Art.  All of my favourite artists were there.  It is an amazing museum.  I love MoMA.

It was a very rainy day in NYC on Monday.
All I can say is, "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, KEEP THAT HOT DOG STAND DRY!"

We were hoping to go up the Empire State Building....
but it's not looking so good today.

 We ate lunch at the 2nd Avenue Deli in Midtown.

A hot pastrami sandwich on rye with a side order of dill pickles and a bowl of potato salad is the perfect thing for a cold and rainy New York afternoon.  Oh, and a nice glass of Israeli chardonnay to wash it down with.

(And lest you think our cholesterol levels are through the roof on this trip, I want to assure you they are not.  Every day we walk at least 7+ hours.)

Back to Harlem on the subway for a quick bite to eat in the apartment, followed by a deserved nap and we were back on the train down to Times Square.  

 

 

 Holy Hannah!  Talk about BRIGHT!  I don't know how the people who live in the apartments around there can sleep at night.  It's as bright as day at all hours.

Then a cab ride to 'Smalls' for an evening of jazz.

My legs happily ache when I fall into bed at midnight.
 

Harlem Digs

We are staying in Harlem for the week we're in NYC.  We are renting the ground floor apartment (former servant's quarters) in a brownstone on 132nd Street.

We love it here.

   Our apartment is in the dark brown building on the right.

 The apartment.

The apartment is very functional.  It runs the full length of the building and is only about 10' wide.  The kitchen is at the back, the bathroom is off to the left, and as you can see, the bed is in the middle of everything!

We've only been in the apartment a scant few hours since being in New York City.  There is so much to do and see here!  I am already worried that there won't be enough time to do everything on our list.  Oh well.  I just guess we'll have to return for another visit.

Soul Food

Sugar Hill beer.  Brewed in Harlem.  
The only beer in New York State brewed by a woman.

Last night Joe and I went to "Miss Maud's Spoonbread Cafe" in Harlem for some soul food.  It sure filled the bill.  The restaurant was warm and inviting.  Everyone was sweet and friendly.  Just what us tired travellers needed.

 I had fried chicken and waffles.  (This one's for you, Molly.)

Joe had 'The Sampler'.  Catfish, fried chicken, ribs, collard greens, cornbread stuffing and candied yams.

We shared a slice of Red Velvet Cake for dessert.

Halfway through eating the cake Joe asked me, "Are you full?"
My reply?  "I am BEYOND FULL!"

I love soul food.  Thank you Harlem.

Two Idiots Abroad

Joe came home after work on Friday with a headache.  He never gets headaches.  I suggested he change out of his work clothes and go lay down  for a nap before we left for the airport.  He agreed.  As I passed him in the hallway on his way to the bedroom, I noticed the old T-shirt he'd changed into was inside out.  I mentioned it to him, but he didn't seem too concerned.  It was, after all, just a T-shirt to sleep in.

Fast forward to the airport.

We were taking the red-eye to New York City.  Our flight left at 11:00pm.  We were at the gate excited and ready to load.  Joe got pulled out of the line-up as he had been picked at random for a more thorough security search.  Lucky him!  He was told to take off his coat.  I almost died as I saw that he was still wearing his old green T-shirt and it was still INSIDE OUT!  The seams along the shoulders and arms were standing at attention and the backwards lettering stitched across his chest was in full bas relief.  I stood off to the side and killed myself laughing.

We finally got on the plane and settled in for the 4 hour and 22 minute flight.  It took us a while to get in the air because the airline had oversold the plane and they needed 4 volunteers to take another flight.  Believe me, that took time. 

I got so tired waiting for someone (ANYONE!) to take Cathay Pacific up on their offer!  By this time it was close to midnight and I couldn't keep my eyes open.  Finally, four people got off the plane and we could get on with it.

Halfway through the safety presentation, I fell asleep.

"What's wrong with that?" you may ask.  Plenty.

I am not a pretty sleeper.  Especially when I am sitting straight up.  My mouth tends to hang open....slack-jaw is a word that comes to mind.....and I snore.  Loudly.

I had made a deal with Joe on this flight.  If he, at anytime, saw me this way he was to wake me quickly.  Not that it would really help much.  Because all would I do is fall back to sleep and resume that hideous position.

Anyhoo.  There I was.  Asleep on the plane and it hadn't even left the tarmac.  The lights were all on.  The plane was packed.

The next thing I knew, my head was thrown back and an unholy roar emanated from my throat.  I woke up to a sound I had never heard before!  I was as startled as anyone.  I looked around at all the people staring at me.  I was mortified!  I dove for cover in Joe's shoulder.  It was now Joe's turn to kill himself laughing.

Like I said.  Two idiots abroad.

Olympics Redux

As everyone knows, I absolutely LOVED the 2010 Olympic Winter Games.  It was, hands down, the best two week party I'd ever been to.  Come to think of it, it's been the only two week party I've ever attended.  But I digress.

Suffice it to say I had a ball.

Joe and I opened our home to two Olympic volunteers.  We went to Whistler to watch the luge, skeleton and bobsleigh events.  We went to the Callaghan Valley to see cross-country and ski jumping.  Our guest bedrooms were revolving doors with friends and family alike.  My sisters came.  My mom came.  My kids came.  Some cousins came.  We attended medal ceremonies, sang 'O Canada' on buses crammed with other like-minded Olympic enthusiasts, strolled the streets of Vancouver immersed in a flood of patriotic smiles.  We certainly did our share of flag waving.

Joe, my sisters and I at the ski jump hill in the Callaghan Valley.

Miss Olympics Canada at the Whistler Sliding Centre

But our Olympic revelry didn't stay on the mountain.  When we weren't physically at a sporting event, a core group of us were in each other's homes every other night taking in the Olympics on TV.  (Or two TVs as it were.  At one house two televisions were set up side by side so we wouldn't miss a moment of Olympic action.)  On President's Day we ate a cake iced in red, white and blue to celebrate the accomplishments of the American athletes.  We drank vodka straight up while we watched the Russia vs Canada hockey game.  We even had a Scandinavia night complete with gefelte fish, for Pete's sake!  

Paige with her new American friends on President's Day.

I've never worn so much red and white in my life!

Ball hockey on Granville Street in Vancouver.

Chowing down on gefelte fish on Scandinavia night.

Fast forward one year to February 2011.

Our hard core group of Olympic lovers decided to get together once a week to watch the highlights from my Olympics DVDs.  (Of course I ordered the boxed set!)  Five consecutive Wednesday nights found us plopped on couches in each other's living rooms re-living our favourite Olympic moments.

We ate, we drank, and talked about how much fun was had when we hosted the world.  Those mid-week gatherings gave us something to look forward to during the dreary month of February.

And we got to re-live the best damn two week party we'd ever been to.

Fitness Freak

Once upon a time back in the 'Land Of The 1980s', not only was I a young kindergarten teacher but I was an aerobics instructor as well.  I know, I know.  Hard to believe.  But it is true. 

Fitness instructor extraordinaire complete with headband.  

I love the elk's head on the back wall.

Not only was I a fitness buff, I was also a triathlete.
I competed in a couple of 'em in my time.

Competitor #422 at the start of the 
Sri Chinmoy Triathlon in Victoria, B.C.  1984.

I swam a total of 1.5 kms, biked 40 kms, and ran 10 kms.

My friend Cheryl and I crossing the finish line.

Me and my BFF Irene showing off our guns after completing the 
Sri Chinmoy Triathlon. 1984.

I already know your next question:
"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED???"

Life is what happened.  Marriage, babies, school, working, laziness, no exercise, wine, too much food.  Waaaay too much food.  My list of excuses goes on and on.

I have recently re-connected with a fellow fitness instructor friend from those long-ago days.  Unlike me, Keith stayed in the biz and is now a personal trainer at a posh gym on the west side of Vancouver.  Irene and I, along with our husbands, met up with Keith yesterday afternoon and he put us through our paces. He sure did.  Oh yes, he did.

Keith gives me a few pointers on the Elliptical Trainer.

Keith is great at what he does and we had a fun workout.

Go, Big Mama, go!

Now this stretch was certainly a fat squisher!

Yowza!  This stretch hurt!  But Keith looks like he is enjoying himself.....

Friends forever.

After the workout, Keith kindly invited us to his home for dinner.  His wife Lorraine welcomed us with open arms.  We laughed as we drank wine and poured over photos of ourselves on holiday in Acapulco during the early '80s, we talked about the trials and tribulations of raising a family, we ate the delicious dinner that Lorraine had prepared for us.  

It was great to re-connect with Keith and Lorraine after all these years.  Friends are friends are friends.  No matter what.  The people you loved in the 1980s are still the people you love in 2011.

Once a fitness freak, always a fitness freak.