Knit PH at the BMA June 21, 2008

The Midwestern floods have taken their toll over four states, but the damage is still yet to be realized. I had to turn of the TV, it was getting me down. It's the first day of summer — I was planning out my day over coffee while catching up with my neighbor Denis when Chris walked into the coffee shop. "Don't you ever pick up your damn phone?" "It's re-charging, why?" "Get in the car now, we're going to Jimmy's". That was the best excuse I've had to avoid doing my laundry. I hopped into the blue Mercedes. Mary and Howard said hello and off we went to Josh and Blair's new greasy spoon, Jimmy's Diner, 577 Union Ave. Josh named the diner after his late father, who was also a chef.

As we walked in, Blair had just sold a Mason Jar Mimosa to one of Williamsburg's hung-over locals, he was gracious and tipped is backwards baseball cap. Mary yelled "I brought your brother!" Josh put down the paper and gave me the guy-hug. We took over the corner booth. It's a sweet little place, Jimmy's — three blocks away from the L and G lines and just two blocks from McCarren Park. I ordered the brisket hash with 2 eggs — but before that, his famous home-made donut holes and buttermilk onion rings hit the table. Mary brought her own coffee beans. "My son doesn't know about good coffee." she insisted. Howard ate sensibly, he looks so much better since the heart surgery. Chris gave me her bacon and asked if I was going to the Mermaid Parade in the afternoon. "Nah, too crowded and over-rated". She agreed that when it's no longer outrageous, it's just another parade. Chris had a theater date at 2:00. Breakfast was an excellent surprise, Mary's treat.



Afterwards we went for a short walk to see what was new in the hood. There are a lot of ugly new buildings that went up quickly. As the economy struggles and real estate prices collapse, the high-dollar "boxes" are slowly coming down. But are people aware that they just bought into a place that looks like a Holiday Inn Motel with small balconies? On the ride home we crawled our way through the crowded Bushwick and Southy streets past Hassidic families — all the men clad in fur hats, heavy wool and prayer shawls.

Meanwhile in Prospect Heights...



I got to the museum by 3:45, Eliza and Colene where the first one's there along with the group of high-school kids playing hacky-sack. Eliza organized Knit with Art at the Brooklyn Museum's sculpture garden. It was a perfect first day of summer, slow cool breeze and not much of a crowd. Soon there were more — Miss Mildred, Victoria, Penelope, Marina, Marci.



Eliza and her husband Chris produced a play that he wrote called "Couldn't Say: Marriage in the Breakdown Lane." Eliza also designed the sets. It runs from July 49 until August 3 at the Dorothy Strelsin Theatre (tickets: www.couldntsay.com).



Some of us moved to the tree bench to make room for Danielle and Paula. Then surprise, Emily and Edna came all the way from Queens. I hadn't seen them since the dead of winter. Enda is finishing up her undergrad, she wants to go into veterinary medicine.



Eliza wokred on her bunch-o-blocks baby blanket, Marina had her socks. Penelope worked on a crochet scarf made with her left-over sock yarn. She showed us her orthoscopic scars from the frozen arm surgery. Ouch. But still she knits and crochets. I'm still a bit sunburned from last week, I worked on proofing patterns. I'm behind on launching my temporary small store. Do I need to put up a pre-temporary store before I put up the temporary store? Work fights with pleaure.



There were more familair faces from WWKIP Day, a few ogglers, a woman who wanted to take our picture for her mother. Knitting around that tree was a bit odd for conversation. I had to keep craining my head around the trunk to see who was talking. I had two more events to attend before the day was up: Judy and Ted's garden party and Deike's good-bye drink before she heads back to Germany to comeplete her Phd. Laundry will have to wait.