Another year

I had a birthday this week, on Wednesday, serendipitously positioned to keep me from having to actually work that day. My mom visited and we went to the Met. She’d never been there and goggled at the sheer size of it, especially in the Egyptian wing (she was mostly remembering our homeschool studies about ancient Egypt, all those many years ago). I got to explain why modern art is in fact fascinating to her and take her up to see Roxy Paine’s Maelstrom on the roof, and we had lunch at Cafe Sabarsky, and it was splendid.

I went over to the TKC campus for office hours, and two students did indeed show up, bearing freshly-made cookies. I answered their questions and we talked about school and writing and New York City history before I headed home. Tom and I had dinner at No. 7, one of my very favorite restaurants (conveniently located about a block from our apartment), and I had goose-and-apple stew.

As I’ve gotten older, I find that I have fewer things to ask for at holidays when people ask. Most of them know that books are all I ever want. I’m such a nerd.

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