1. In which I am glad to see flowers: crocuses along the Brooklyn Promenade. I think people who plant the early, early spring flowers — crocuses, daffodils, snowdrops, even tulips — do the world such a kindness by assuring ahead of time that there will be flowers exactly when everyone really, really wants to see something growing and blooming. One of my neighbors growing up planted thousands of daffodil bulbs in the empty, wooded lot next to her house. I'll be up there in a couple of weeks; I should go by and see if they're still there.
2. In which my tape measure is a lying slut.
I managed to knit the back of Yank a good 4-5" longer than it needed to be, despite measuring it regularly. The fronts match each other, so I'm not completely incompetent. I ripped back already and am back on track, but seriously, what the hell, tape measure?
3. In which I go to the Orangette reading.
See her waaaaaaay up at the front of the room? I've been reading Molly's blog for a while and really like it, so I was happy to go out and see her reading from her new book. It was an rsvp-only event at Idlewild Books, and was already standing-room only when I got there 25 minutes early. Wild. The reading was good, but I was happier to have had a reason to check out the bookstore. Once I got there, I remembered having heard about it when it opened — they sell both travel guides and fiction/momoirs, but arrange the store geographically so that novels set in a country are right next to travel guides to that place.
And they sell all sorts of maps and globes and things of that ilk. Not to mention having a super cool light fixture.
All of the pieces of paper had something written on them, a poem, a drawing, a note, and then are attached to some central thing by a wire and an alligator clip. I didn't spend a tremendous amount of time examining whether the wires seemed to be a part of the thing from the start or were glommed on afterward, but I love the idea.