scary blooms

Ahhhhh....The muscle spasm has relaxed, leaving me with garden variety stiffness, and I can smile despite the pain. Could life be better? Well...the Rockefeller Center area and Jersey City across the river smell like, as Bryan put it this morning after experiencing it firsthand, "like someone left the stove on." And yesterday we went to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden (The Ron Mueck and Annie Leibovitz exhibits at the Brooklyn Museum next door had lines snaking for miles so forget that) only to be spooked by the forsythia and cherry blossoms. Tourists and locals alike surrounded the flowering trees with cameras like the blooms were the tiny, glassed-in Mona Lisa at the Louvre. It was important to get the forsythia in the foreground with the leafless trees beyond to really drive the point home that the world feels like it's ending. If it is, I am not dressed for the occasion. If only I had that Botkier Trigger bag...I will take Hamish to the museum later this week if we're all still here. Stella too, I suppose. I wonder what Hamish'll think of the giant newborn. Hopefully it won't traumatize him too much. Maybe it'll be one of his first memories years from now. So...yeah. I should have taken a picture of the forsythia myself, to illustrate this post with, but I didn't, so here's our friend Gary, impersonating a flower blooming in the winter. Scary, right?