Sitting in a nursing home my dad is doing another round of rehab.
We hope he'll be well enough to come home in a few weeks.
I am watching his slow but steady decline . . .
life in and around NYC is insane
If you read my earlier post you will have surmised that Drew and I started Father's Day at brunch with our two beautiful daughters. Usually the girls and I do brunch with Drew and dinner with my family.
But my dad is in the hospital. He's been there over a week. So we thought we'd bring the party to him. Cake from Reinwald's, chocolate covered strawberries from Edible Arrangements.
Except . . .
He's in a lethargic state as he recovers from surgery, so he slept most of the time we were there.
Not that it mattered. He's "NPO". Nothing By Mouth. He has an issue swallowing and they have to figure out what's going on.
It's scary. He's old and sick. A plethora of medical issues. His primary care doctor gave him a "pep talk" today about staying strong and he'll be well enough to go home soon.
Sunday brunch at the Bonwit . . .a Long Island tradition. Reservations are a must, especially for special occasions like Father's Day.
There was a fruit and salad bar, a carving station, an omelet station. Hot dishes included breakfast items like scrambled eggs, pancakes, french toast, bacon, sausage. Lunch dishes were mostly Italian -- penne a la vodka, fried calamari, eggplant rollitini. Desserts included creme brulee and jello as well as various pies and cakes. Loved my mimosa.
The only disappointments were the french toast, which seemed overcooked, and the smoked salmon, which was dry and too salty.
This place is becoming our go-to place for brunch, and with good reason. A very satisfying meal.
A new "shared bike" program here in NYC. I'm not sure of the mechanics of the program, but apparently you can hop on one of these bikes and ride all over the city, then return the bike.
I was in the Wall Street area today and guess what I found:
I was most definitely taken advantage of by a feline con artist!
Mr. Kitty is my "breakfast buddy". I cannot leave the house to ho to work until he gets his morning meal - dry cat food. Sometimes he'll drag himself out of bed when he hears me coming down the stairs. Sometimes he's waiting for me at the foot of the stairs. And occasionally he'll come into my room and pester me while I'm getting dressed.
Our other cat, Redford, is not all that interested in breakfast. Usually if I see him in the morning, he wants to go out to the yard to play, or he was out all night and wants to come inside to sleep. As far as Redford is concerned I'm the doorman . . .
Now, dinner is an entirely different matter. Dinner means canned cat food, those fancy three-ounce cans. Dinner is generally served at 5, usually by my mother. Both cats go absolutely crazy for dinner.
So how did I get conned?
We are a large family with varied schedules, so it's rare to find myself home alone. But when I got home at 8:30 last night, the felines were the only family members in the house. And I had reason to believe they'd been home alone most of the day.
Mr. Kitty was waiting in the foyer when I opened the front door. He started his "starving kitty" act the moment I walked into the house. That poor, pathetic meowing! Redford showed up when he heard the Kitty man carrying on.
I felt so bad for both of them.
Of course I ran to the pantry and grabbed two cans. Of course I gave them dinner. The poor babies!
When Jen got home a short time later I began to tell her the story....
"You didn't feed them, did you? Cause I gave them each a can when I got home this afternoon. They had dinner at 4:00."
Don't let the sweet expression on that furry white face fool you. He's a master con artist. And our orange friend is his willing accomplice.