Back to Brooklyn

Can you spot Bill at the machine buying our AirTrain tickets?

Here we are back in New York City to visit Michael and Erin, our son and daughter-in-law. I miss them so much that seeing them  again feels like recovering a lost part of myself. 

As soon as we exit the plane, my ear picks up a multitude of foreign languages.  I get the impression of having landed in Europe, or Asia, or the Middle East.  At the  Airtrain Tickets kiosque, people struggle to figure out the confusing vending machines.  Although in English, the instructions and options confond native speakers. Even Bill, the public transportatin expert seems flummoxed. I observe the international travelers battling  with the machines and admire their patience.  Fortunately, several  subway agents  show up to assist from time to time.  Eventually, everyone gets sorted, and off they go to enjoy the Big Apple.  Adventures await.

Angelina from Paris in New York City

The next day, I head to Albertine,  972 5th avenue,  a truly amazing French Book Store , the best in the United States.  On the way, a very familiar attractive  shop window grabs my attention. Angelina from Paris here  in  New York City!   Resisting temptation,  I venture on. Suddenly, being in this crowded, bustling, diverse, and sensory overloaded city feels weird. My inner big city woman needs quick  activation. The sunny weather after weeks of damp Oregon also takes some getting used to. For the first time, in weeks , my water proof boots are replaced by street shoes. But I love it all. After repeatedly negotiating crossing busy streets darting out of the way of turning cars and shoulder to shoulder people,  my inner big city woman comes alive and breathes a sigh of relief. I am at home once again  in New York City,  Brooklyn born and raised, and very proud of it.