Zombie Pub Crawl

Last Saturday, Evelyn joined Wilker at the 2nd Annual Zombie Pub Crawl. Makeup was applied early in the afternoon at Logan Park, with every lifestyle, nationality and profession well represented. I especiallly liked the Tibetan Monk. When I drove over to Elsie's to pick up Evleyn, my car was mobbed by Zombies -- there is nothing like a few drunken Zombies drooling fake blood and body fluids on the hood of your car. The Pirate Pub Crawl was held on the same day and in the same neighborhood -- with Zombies and Pirates drinking, dancing and fighting in the middle of Monroe Street.

Astoria, Queens

Looking to the west, while standing in Astoria Park. on the shore of the East River, mid-town Manhattan is easy to distinguish. If you made your way across the water and through the maze of buildings, continuing due West –– you would land smack in the middle of Central Park.

And land she did. Not exactly in Central Park. But a 15 minute subway ride away.

Astoria, Queens welcomed Mary Clare with misdirected luggage, a cold shower and a dead rat on the doorstep. But the reward was an excellent job offer within 48 hours of residence and a cute little apartment that even Livia Soprano would love.

Calvatia Gigantea

At first blush, I thought some random urchin had left a deflated soccer ball in the yard. I mentally checked it from the kitchen window every morning -- albeit, last on the list. Odd, though. And even though there is a soccer ball in the garage, I don't think it's seen the light of day since 2001. When Mr. Jensen made the same comments, we realized nature, once again, had jaw-dropping, scream-out-loud, surprised us: A puffball mushroom. Bigger than Trixie's head.

From Wikipedia: The Giant puffball is a puffball mushroom commonly found in meadows, fields, and deciduous forests worldwide usually in late summer and autumn. Most giant puffballs grow to be 10 to 70 cm in diameter, although occasionally some can reach diameters up to 150 cm and weights of 20 kg. The large white mushrooms are edible when young and some claim the meat tastes very similar to tofu when cooked.

Mushroom Omelet, anyone?

After the Boys of Summer have gone.

The thought of summer waning, elicits melancholy. The proof of those lost days: melons that never had a chance to mature -- the raccoons night time scavenges, skulking in the yard under moonlit shadows. Gnawing at the flesh. Leaving the seeds and pulp strewn through the garden.














The sunflowers, heads bent with the weight of summer. Birds and chipmunks peck at the faces, grabbing for every seed that is loose or ready to succumb to winter.