Saturday was such a nice and surprisingly warm day. It was sunny and got up to about 70 degrees.
Everyone was out walking around, hanging out on porches—things I usually hate, but it was nice to see it since everyone has been holed up in their apartments for months.
(Or is that just me…?)
Ben and I went for a nice long walk through Prospect Park, then went to buy McSmoothies.
I found this funny sign that related to an inside joke Ben and I have:
I think the sign is actually mourning the loss of a big tree, a big tree named Big Grandma. Not sure.
Any walk through Prospect Park isn’t complete unless I get to stroll through the Vale of Cashmere, Brooklyn’s answer to the Ramble in Central Park:
Both spots are infamous for their gay cruising.
I have never seen any guys cruising in the Vale of Cashmere, though. The only things I see are birdwatchers and random people that don’t look like they are cruising.
Perhaps the cruising occurs when the sun goes down, which sounds frightening to me because I’ve walked through Prospect Park at night—and it is scary. All sorts of creatures alive in the trees. All sorts of scary forest noises.
Hats off to all those dudes getting busy in the dark woods.
That is dedication.
They have balls.
Back to the weather…
Saturday was nice. Got cold again yesterday.
Today is lame and cloudy and rainy.
Here is me outside the post office this afternoon:
Looking a bit miserable and cold and over it all. (Over the weather, that is.)
I was pretty much wearing the same thing on my walk on Saturday, but I felt more carefree.
I think that is what I miss. Carefree fun in warm (not hot) weather.
Ready for it!