Manhattan, Extra Cold, Extra Dry

That's been the weather all week. The wind has been slicing and dicing its way through lower Manhattan. It's amusing to see everyone bundled up a la Nanook of the North. And it smells a lot better when the ubiquitous urine streams are either frozen or blown away.

I've been reading Lush Life by Richard Price. I've been wanting to read this gritty tale about a Lower East Side murder for a while now but never found it at the library. Last week it was sitting there under Staff Picks so I grabbed it. Turns out it's large print so I can read it from across the room.

Harry finished his first semester at Vassar and is taking the train to our apartment tomorrow. Mark, who's still got finals, will join us for a family dinner Sunday night, as will my brother Charlie. Friends from Rhode Island will also drop by. It will be crowded around here, but it will also be fun.

The best dog in the world is still at the animal hospital. I visit him every day. I talk; he listens. Sometimes he barks. Something is wrong with his balance and he can't stand up. An 80-lb. dog that can't stand on his own is a problem. We are facing a difficult choice in the next few days. Turbo is the last of our red hot bouviers. He's 13 years old and has lived a long and interesting life.