A stroll along the Industrial Riviera

I love my neighborhood: Today, when I was pushing McLaren in his stroller down my street, I heard the vague clicking of wheels on the sidewalk behind me, and I thought, "Hooray, another mom pushing a baby!" Then the clicking got louder and louder, and I turned around to take a look at who might be overtaking me, and lo and behold, it was not a mom and baby after all, but a homeless man pushing a shopping cart full of cans.

Break-up Sandwich

All rightee, who out there does not think this is a bit odd? A few months ago, my very sweet, giving and flat-out amazing next-door neighbor and her equally wonderful partner broke up after nine years (very, very sad, since they were a lovely couple and much fun together). Instead of moving to another building, in some other far-flung part of the city, however, my next-door neighbor's partner decided to move into a loft-space in the same building, purportedly so that custody of their dog, "Peaches," could be more easily shared. Now here's the truly odd part: the loft-space that my next-door neighbor's partner rented happens to be on the other side of us Parks, and so now we are truly in the middle of a break-up sandwich, with the break-up-er on one side, and the break-up-ee on the other. In all, they live literally 20 paces away from one another. Maybe they didn't REALLY break up, but perhaps just needed a bit of added space and an extra bathroom?

McLaren Park

Zoinks! I just looked at the posting dates on my blog, and it appears that my most "recent" rambling was in April of last year... though, I must say, for good reason! Mr. Park and I now have a little Park, or rather, "McLaren" Park, who was born November 18, 2009. He's a lively little one, who has demanded much of my attention (and prior to that I started a new job in the same blasted and stale world of scholarly publishing, which has since evaporated due to the rigors of motherhood and their inability to accommodate a revised schedule, oy--I guess this means that I'm officially under-employed).

So, now that I've forgone work temporarily for the sweet-pea-of-a-man, I plan on posting as many meditations as are possible in the space of two-hour naps, when my hands are free for the typing. I promise that they won't all be about BMs, diapies, or burping, but instead about more fascinating subjects, including the close quarters of my "Tales of the City"-esque building, which are now extremely present in my life and keep getting more and more bizarre.

I don't venture much farther than a few blocks during the day, so my world view is much reduced, and yes, more and more mediocre. Totally and completely fitting.

And on that note, I must be off, like some soiled jammies.