Yesterday I dozed on the bus, took a nap before dinner, was in bed by 10:30, then slept hard till 6:45. Apparently I am tired. Though I didn't intend to spend my weekend sleeping, my body says otherwise, and that is fine.

Yesterday and last night, I hung out at the bar in Brooklyn while Ray prepped for his shift. I drank my horchata and ate a snack, including a lovely beet and pear salad presented to me by Patrick, one of the bartenders. Eventually I went back to the apartment for the aforementioned nap, then came back to the bar to meet Steve and Paul and Lily, and the three of us went out to an Italian restaurant up the street.  (I hate squid-ink spaghetti with crabmeat.) And then there was another brief interlude at the bar before I went home to bed.

Lest you imagine that all I do in NYC is drink, understand that the bar is merely our version of Grand Central Station. All things pass through it in my Brooklyn life. Ray and Steve have owned it since 2004; the boys have been clambering up on the barstools since they were pipsqueaks. It's like everyone's living room away from home.

Today I'll spend a little more time awake. In a few minutes I'll clamber out of bed, shower, and then take the train out to Paul's new apartment. We'll have breakfast (apparently at a Slovakian place whose name translates as Snail), and then we'll take a very long train ride to the Bronx zoo, where I have never been. I am looking forward to seeing an ostrich. Eventually we'll meet up with the rest of the gang in Manhattan to visit a bagel shop made entirely of felt. (Yes, NYC has everything.) Then dinner, etc.

Wishing you a Saturday with plenty of naps, if that seems to be required.