In recent weeks I have been stalking a particular townhouse in my Upper West Side neighborhood. As February inched closer to March, I became more and more obsessed with this dwelling. Why? Take a look.
Christmas in January and February townhouse.
Inside my head I had written and rewritten this post several times. I considered calling it March Madness because who in their right mind continues to hang a holiday wreath into the month that kicks off spring? Actually about fifteen years ago I happened to have had a next-door neighbor, a rather pleasant woman named Tiffany, Kay or Zales … Okay, I completely forget her name, but I clearly recall that it sounded like jewelry and she was a nice person. Tiffany, Kay or Zales kept one hanging outside her door until June. She did not strike me as demented in the least, just someone suffering an acute case of holiday wreath blindness. Perversely, every time my visitors and I looked at that heavily shedding eyesore we saw it in 3D. To this day, I’m still finding pine needles inside my humble abode. Back to the present, could this townhouse dweller have been blind to his wreath as my former neighbor was to her contribution to blight?
Then, the unforeseeable happened this March 1st morning.
March 1st. Hey, where did it go?
Upon closer inspection, still missing.
First, I wondered:
Me: Did it fall off?
Then, I thought:
Me: If it fell off, could I get arrested if I happened to re-hang it for my blog?
I resisted that temptation, followed the sane, responsible course and walked on. Coincidentally I could not locate that wreath. Frustrating.
Lame Adventures 