Last weekend Arlo and I drove my best friend in this world back to Brooklyn and spent a couple of days exploring. We saw
this play, a walking mystery, history tour of Brooklyn Heights, and we chatted with the director afterwards over a beer at the Indian restaurant. We ate the most delicious brunch at Applewood in Park Slope and the whole staff took turns holding my perfect lump of a baby. We shopped around Williamsburg, buying jangle and trinkets. We did a whole lot of walking and even more sweating.
What I didn't do was take pictures; all I have is this one picture encapsulating so much that I love: my dear friend, my sweet boy, and cheese-- stinky, spectacular cheese that we ate in her apartment while the boy slept, punctuating our conversation with TED talks and memories.
And then Arlo and I drove back home alone, and I got mad at her all over again for moving to Brooklyn.
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