Friday Photo: No. 50

Well, friends, what do you have planned this weekend? My little brother and his wife are in town for a bit and I'm taking them out to try this mile-high ice cream cake. After they leave, we are retreating to the sea in Delaware with my husband's family for a few days. Have a happy weekend!

+ A bicycle basket that is like a work of art.

+ And speaking of bikes, these bike rides look incredible.

+ Could you imagine staying in a hotel where some of the guests are giraffes?

+ Thoughts on grey hair.

+ Painted shelves. Perfect.

+ Summer refresher: Apricot soda with mint + honey.

+ Meet the funniest baby sleeping bag ever.

+ Eat cake for breakfast and don't feel guilty about it.

+ Color block iPhone cases are the coolest.

+ This love letter to the Manhattan Bridge sure is enchanting.

+ I'm already pining over fall boots.

+ Mason jar meals

{Photo credit: unknown}


Imperial Woodpecker Sno-Balls

Newsflash: Here's something I bet your weather man didn't tell you. In New York City, you can buy a sno ball in the middle of July on a 100-degree day. No parka required. And. Wait for it. You can even take your sno ball to go in a Chinese takeout pail. The sky is falling. It's snowing in the middle of summer. Yep, it's true. And it's wonderful.

CJ and I discovered the magical possibility of a tart-flavored snowstorm on a dainty stretch of Macdougal Street in Greenwich Village. The shop is called Imperial Woodpecker Sno-Balls and it offers a fluffier, sweeter version of the traditional snow cone. New Orleans style.

We try to stop by a few times a week since the pop-up shop is only open for the summer months. A couple times {is seven a couple?} this may have qualified as dinner. There are nutrients in there, no? Wink.

We get into a {snow ball} battle over which flavor we want to sample next. We're slowly working our way through the list of snazzy options that includes things like, Creole cream cheese, Mardi Gras king cake, key lime pie, mojito and pear. Some of our favorites are the original superstars, like cherry and blue raspberry, but we also love iced tea, grapefruit, tutti frutti and granny smith apple. Next up we plan on tackling wild strawberry with sweetened condensed milk.

The forecast has us in for another deadpan scorcher tomorrow.

But at 124 Macdougal Street it will be snowing. And that's where CJ and I will be.

In shorts.


Gallery Hopping At The Gagosian 

There are days in New York City when the simple act of living here turns into a love affair. When you become smitten with it in proportions larger than life. Or the Empire State Building. When it turns into a black and white film.

Today was not that day.

CJ and I had some errands to run around the city, from Gramercy Park to Greenwich Village. The temperature was throttling towards 100 degrees and it was the kind of heat that stuck to you like tar and left you feeling basted. I'm not entirely convinced there aren't tiny puddles of us splashed across Manhattan, especially at the corner of 18th Street and 3rd Avenue. Melted. CJ was pouting that our favorite streetside fruit vendor was out of peaches. That the sun was "being mean and making him hot." That his plum shaved ice spilled on his arm and made it sticky. That he didn't want water. That he did want water. No, not that water. The "Gatorade" water.

Today was not that day.

But in between a dentist appointment and a brief coffee meeting, we found ourselves with 17 minutes to spare. A grey area in between a day colored with things to do and places to be.

And then.

The love affair. The proportions larger than life. The black and white film.

We stepped onto an unassuming stretch of West 21st Street and into the cavernous Gagosian Gallery that was featuring an exhibit on fashion photographer, Richard Avedon. The ballooned images towered towards the ceiling in black and white. They were stark and stripped of color. Just what we needed. Still snapshots.

I have to admit, that some of the images weren't appropriate for small children, which I wasn't aware of ahead of time, and I steered CJ away from them. 

After CJ peppered me with questions about why it was so quiet in the exhibit and how they got the pictures so big, we carried on and out past the frosted doors of the gallery.

We were back. The sun. The bright yellow taxis. A tourist in hot pink pants. The world caked in color. Everything looked the same as when we stepped inside, but somehow totally different. The things that NYC makes possible, pausing a day filled with the grind of errands to stare at stunning fashion photography in an art gallery with my three-year-old is still, three years into this whole city living journey, mind blowing. And you know what, flashy films boiling over in color are pretty good, too. Great even.

So there we were, standing at the corner of 10th Avenue, CJ whining that he wanted his sunglasses that were accidently smashed a few blocks back, melting. 

Melting into this city.

{This isn't our first time gallery hopping!}


Friday Photo: No. 49

We are back from our New England vacation but my parents are sticking around for a bit longer, so we are going to make homemade frozen pecan pudding to eat after CJ's soccer game this weekend. What are you up to over the next couple of days, friends? 

+ Rent a backyard in NYC this summer. 

+ Homemade sunburn soothers.

+ Frosting that glows!

+ Keep bugs away from the food at your next picnic.

+ This documentary looks so interesting.

+ A feminine spin on whiskey + gin: a Violet Crumble.

+ I have a crush on this vintage radio.

+ My mouth dropped when I saw this beautiful quilt.

+ These knitted sweaters are so fun.

+ This fun and flirty engagement photo session made me smile.

+ Lipstick and wine pairings. Neat!

{Photo credit: Pure Vege}


A New England Summer

Hello, friends! Sorry the blog has been a bit quiet as of late. No, I didn't get lost somewhere along the 324 mile stretch to Maine. Yes, I lost track of time {wonderfully so!} somewhere between when the water turned the perfect shade of cobalt blue and the signs shifted from pedestrian crossing zones to moose crossing zones. I've decided that summer is best served New England style. The sand feels like lumpy flour, the air smells of clambakes, all the world is emerald and the nights are best spent docked with a blueberry beer in hand. My heart is sulking that we will be headed home soon.

Stay tuned! The full kit and kaboodle about our trip coming up!

P.S. What is your favorite place to vacation that is within driving distance of your home?

{Photo credit: Messes of Men}