Husband and I went to NYC for Thanksgiving, and boy did we get a lot done.
I found this incredibly cool photo of my grandpa.
My mom and I made a pie with some help from Julie The Cat.
This is the pie in its basket. Last year we had a minor (major) pie mishap, so now the pie's transport is closely monitored and emailed about.
Uncle Harry carved the turkey.
Later in the night my mom played the piano.
And Wendy's cat came out looking for friends.
The next day we were going to go to the Museum of Natural History, where we had one of our many first dates, but we decided to stay at this bar and talk about one million things instead. (Before you call me a slacker/knowledge-hater: I grew up on the Upper West Side and have been to the Natural History Museum approximately 9 billion times. I promise we made the right decision.)
…especially since it was an opportunity for French Onion Soup.
We migrated down to another important place, the White Horse Tavern.
Then dinner with Emily and Yiannis.
But the most magical thing of all was that we got to be entirely alone on the subway back from dinner.
No one in the booth.
No one coming to wait for the train.
No one in the car! So we did what any normal people would do.
…Practiced our pull-ups.
And ran around a lot.
And took a nap.
So many blocks checked.
No comments:
Post a Comment