Who Copes Better?

What did I see this morning, as I began my fourth week (!) in my new apartment?

Marlee has been cuddling with me even more than she had been in the old apartment--and that's saying something.  I wonder whether she's scared about being in a new and possibly strange place.  Or does she like my body more because I've gained weight? At least, I feel as if I have.

As you might imagine, I haven't done a lot of cycling, at least compared to what I normally do.   If I have gained weight, however, it may have as much to do with how I've been eating.  Last night, I realized that because I've been so busy, most days--including yesterday--I've been eating my biggest (or only) meal at the end of the day.  

Will Marlee still love me--or, at least, my body--as much when I get back to my normal cycling and eating habits?  And will she like this new place when it's all neat and arranged? 

Proposal

 Some day—perhaps soon—I’ll believe that I’ve moved to the most wonderful neighborhood in the universe. As much as I love my new apartment (even if it is smaller than my old one), its views and its light, and as friendly as my neighbors have been, there are still things I miss about Astoria.

Those things include, of course, my friends—with whom I’ll try to stay in touch.  Also, it had, if not the best, then some of the best, of New York:  It’s about as close as you can get to Manhattan without being there, but it doesn’t have the self-conscious hipsterism of Williamsburg, Greenpoint or Bushwick.  

Oh, and there was the food. I’m finding good eats here, but I still haven’t come across a bakery, let alone one that makes bread or cookies like Parisi’s or bagels like Lots o’ Bagels. 

And of course, there are the rides.  I could continue to do them, but I would have to ride (or take a train) to get to them.  I’m just starting to discover some good routes here, but I’m still in the “It’s not the Fort Totten ride!” stage.

Finally, there are the characters.  I’m sure I’ll find them here, but I still think of the ones I just left. They include the guy who hung out by the train station and the stores. He approached me and, probably, every other woman in the neighborhood, with this proposal:  “Will you marry me?  I’ve got food stamps!”

I have to admit, there are worse—or at least more bizarre—pickup lines.

Soon I will return to regular posting.  I have been so busy—and tired—that it seems like a miracle that I actually managed to do two rides—about 25 miles each—that had nothing to do with commuting or errands.

The Latest Stop On My Journey

 OK. Now I am going to tell you about the life change which I’d been hinting about during the past couple of weeks.

As you might have guessed, it’s a move:  my first since December 2009.  And, for the first time since August 2002, I am not living in Astoria.

This photo from my 13 March post is one view from my new apartment: the Conservatory of the New York Botanical Gardens.

I am now living up the block from the Gardens’ Bedford Park Gate. If I look in another direction, I see the Fordham University and Prep School campuses and, in the distance, the Manhattan skyline.

The neighborhood seems to be a racially and ethnically mixed working-to-middle-class area, There are stores and restaurants nearby. Although they carry different items and serve different foods, they remind me of what I encountered when I first moved to Astoria. 

I must say, though, that I haven’t seen nearly as many cyclists—and, thankfully, motor scooters—as I would encounter on Crescent Street. That, I think, is a lesson in the sociology of urban cycling:  Astoria, like nearly Greenpoint and Williamsburg, has grown younger, whiter and more self-consciously hip. Perhaps I will—consciously or not—plant seeds of cycling culture as I pedal in and out of, and around, the neighborhood.

So why have I moved to Bedford Park, Bronx? Do you promise not to tell anyone? 

I am now in a senior citizens’ apartment.

If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you might’ve guessed that I was in or near the age range for such a thing.  For several years,’I’ve been applying for one and my name finally came up. 

Whatever my housing situation, I do not plan to change the name of this blog. As I’ve said in earlier posts, whatever my age, I am in the middle of my life as long as I don’t know when it will end.  And, as long as I keep on cycling, I don’t think I’ll be anywhere near the end of my journey.