I know the perfect spot for this table, bb. Picture a large dining room window facing east. Peer out and see a street sign--Belleview and Stowell!--affixed to a pole supporting a sublime "span." Move a bookcase. Sunday morning: Waffles and bacon, The Times on the floor, the window open for Oskar and a breeze . . .
Dear Anonymous -- that's so funny you should mention that. I know a waffle-and-bacon-eating, NYT-reading, span lover who feels precisely the same way. I wonder if you know him. He likes to dig holes. And he's got an almost-unhealthy obsession with cross ventilation...
Mock my cross-ventilation "obsession," bb, but you'll understand when spring arrives. And then summer. I remember summer in 23. I watched you put flannel sheets on your bed in July. The windows were wide open and only faced south. Every window in 23 faced south. I never pulled a dry-cleaning bag over my head, but I know what it's like cuz I was in 23 in July . . . 24 is paradise. The ideal east side apartment. And cross-ventilation is part of it. You can leave your wheezing air conditioners for the the scrappers. You won't need them . . . And if you don't believe me, ask Oskar in July when he's got a lung full of a night time lake breeze. Try closing the window on my tussle buddy then . . .
4 comments:
I know the perfect spot for this table, bb. Picture a large dining room window facing east. Peer out and see a street sign--Belleview and Stowell!--affixed to a pole supporting a sublime "span." Move a bookcase. Sunday morning: Waffles and bacon, The Times on the floor, the window open for Oskar and a breeze . . .
Dear Anonymous -- that's so funny you should mention that. I know a waffle-and-bacon-eating, NYT-reading, span lover who feels precisely the same way. I wonder if you know him. He likes to dig holes. And he's got an almost-unhealthy obsession with cross ventilation...
Mock my cross-ventilation "obsession," bb, but you'll understand when spring arrives. And then summer. I remember summer in 23. I watched you put flannel sheets on your bed in July. The windows were wide open and only faced south. Every window in 23 faced south. I never pulled a dry-cleaning bag over my head, but I know what it's like cuz I was in 23 in July . . .
24 is paradise. The ideal east side apartment. And cross-ventilation is part of it. You can leave your wheezing air conditioners for the the scrappers. You won't need them . . .
And if you don't believe me, ask Oskar in July when he's got a lung full of a night time lake breeze. Try closing the window on my tussle buddy then . . .
this would fit like a glove in my tiny NYC apartment.
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