Dusk on Sutton Place

I was up on the roof terrace last week at twilight.
It was an especially beautiful evening. I find myself going up there quite often, almost every chance I get. Not only is the view enchanting, but there's always a nice breeze. You can stretch out on one of the chaise lounges and enjoy the 360 degree view. The last added benefit of going up there is that my phone reception is much better than my apartment. Because I'm on the inner courtyard side of my building on the 5th floor of a 21 story building, it's as if I'm down in a canyon. I only get one bar of reception on my phone. The solution? Go to the top of the building and yak to one's heart's content!

The East River and Queensboro Bridge

Sutton Place at duck

The midtown view looking West

Mugging for the camera

In the morning I need a lot of coffee to wake up.
My pet peeve is small coffee cups that, after only a few sips, you must keep refilling.
Give me a big mug that holds a large quantity and is good for a while before it needs replenishing.
I have a small but cherished collection of mugs at the apartment for just this task.
I have two really large cups that I found on separate occasions at Fish's Eddy on lower Broadway.





Then there's this red mug I got on a trip to London; I thought the famous WWII poster it's sporting would make a good souvenir from Jolly Old England. I especially like to drink afternoon tea with this one.



I have a set of four slightly smaller Buffalo China mugs that came in a full set. I like that they're very hefty and feel good in your hand. The whole set is well made, practically indestructible, like the kind you find in an old fashioned diner.



Lastly, there's this Harvard mug I got at a thrift shop upstate, it's also very thick and heavy. I like the inset lip, it keeps liquids warmer a tad longer I've found.

A patch of blue

Having only lived in my new apartment since mid-December of last year, I haven't seen the way the light appears in the main room through the different seasons. And while it's not a dark apartment per se, I resigned myself to the fact that I would probably never see direct sunlight in the space given that I'm on the fifth floor of a twenty-one story building and I face the interior courtyard. So imagine my surprise when I got home yesterday afternoon around 5:30 to see a big swath of sunlight beaming into the apartment. There's a small gap of sky that you can see between two of the buildings behind mine that surround the courtyard, and the sun's path directly aligns with my big picture window. I get a big beam of sunshine that I had never seen before. So I'm not sure if this phenomenon happens in another part of the year--sort of like the famous "Manhattanhenge"--but it's nice to know that I can look forward to it every June.

Life's a (Hamilton) beach

There is nothing I love more for breakfast than a good egg sandwich.
On a biscuit. Wrapped in a tortilla. Or on an English muffin.
And I'm not above sampling the wares of a Dunkin' Donuts or a McDonald's either. They both make very fine versions. Just add a nice cup of coffee and I'm a happy morning camper.
So I was in heaven over the Memorial Day weekend when I visited my friend Doris at her house up in Colombia County. She made everyone egg sandwiches in a great little contraption made by Hamilton Beach. The egg, bacon, and cheese sandwich she served was so good I said, "Where did you get that thing?"
"Walmart! You should get one, they're only 19 bucks."
The next day we made a trek to America's favorite retail establishment (a very nice one I might add) and I picked up my Hamilton Beach Breakfast Sandwich Maker.
Basically, it's a mini hotplate. Well, two mini hotplates actually. You layer in your biscuit or English muffin on the bottom plate, then add cheese, bacon, or ham (I bought that ham that's cut in circles, it fit perfectly), then break an egg into the separated top hotplate and cover with the other half of the muffin. The whole thing cooks up in 4 to 5 minutes and then--VOILA!-- you slide out a perfect breakfast sandwich. Top with hot sauce and who wouldn't love that?
What I love is the diminutive size of the thing; when you live in a studio apartment you are always looking to conserve space. This little machine fits nicely under the counter (you don't have to leave it out), and the clean-up is super easy. The middle griddle plate lifts right out and you can plop it in the dishwasher. Perfect.
Best $19 dollars I ever spent.

The mini griddle

This morning's ingredients: English muffins, cheese, eggs, and ham

The perfect egg sandwich

YUMMO

HomeGoods happy

I needed a pillow for the sofa, the leather Chesterfield.
But I was (and still am) on a budget.
Everywhere I looked, occasional and throw pillows were upwards of $50, usually more depending on the store.
Then one day a couple of months ago my friend Doris asked me if I wanted to go out to New Jersey for some retail therapy. We'd hit IKEA, and HomeGoods. I thought either store would be a great place to find a simple, inexpensive pillow.
Sure enough, HomeGoods had just what I was looking for, a graphic navy blue pillow, medium sized. Navy is the color I'm using as an accent in the apartment, it happens to be my favorite color too.
The best part? The one I spotted was only $19.00. Perfect.
As it turns out, it's a subtle match to the blue-ish carpet runner I bought for the kitchen, so that diamond/trellis idea is a sort-of design motif. You can see that carpet in this posting.
Afterwards, I realized why the tagline of "HomeGoods Happy" is so genius. You can find home decor items there that you really like and you don't have to bust your wallet in the process. Happy indeed :)

The pillow I found

Monty

Yesterday I finished Patricia Bosworth's very fine biography, "Montgomery Clift", a fascinating yet depressing portrait of the haunted, tortured, and ultimately self-destructive Hollywood actor. He was the star of such classic motion pictures as "Red River", "A Place in the Sun", "From Here to Eternity", "I Confess", and "The Misfits", whose face was disfigured at the height of his popularity in a horrible car accident.

The book

Montgomery Clift in his heyday

I was surprised to read that in the last five declining years of his life Clift owned a four story townhouse only a few blocks from my house at 217 East 61st Street.

217 East 61st Street today

The current front door

He lived there from 1960 to 1966. I happen to walk down that block every week because it's the stop where the Hampton Jitney drops me off on my walk home. I've admired this tree lined street with its uniformly lovely townhouses every time I see it, so it was pleasing to read this famous matinee idol once resided there. A little quick online research revealed that this block and 62nd Street are designated a small historic district named Treadwell Farms, named after the Treadwell family, fur traders who originally owned the land and developed it back in colonial days. It's a very sweet and charming couple of blocks, a fitting final resting spot for such a talented actor.

Living gifts

Last weekend when my architect and a photographer came to take pictures for his portfolio and website and for the contractor's website as well, they brought along some flower arrangements and plants to 'stage' the rooms a little. It always helps to add these nice touches to a room. Look at any shelter magazine and you'll see what I mean...fresh flower arrangements, fresh produce on the kitchen counter, the odd personal touch like a sweater thrown haphazardly (but perfectly) over a chair, a newspaper folded to the crossword someone stopped in medias res...it's all to make the room feel more human and lived in. After their shoot I found out that Steve brought along a friend of his who's an interior decorator who's styled many a home. He was doing Steve a favor. As a thank your for giving them access to the apartment, they left the arrangements as a gift. It was nice to come home at the end of the weekend to find them (Thanks, Steve!) They've lasted a few days now.

A small arrangement for a side table

Some eucalyptus branches for one of the window sills

An arrangement of herbs for the kitchen window