Saturday night I went up to Ned's house to learn how to make jam. And to eat bread. And see friends. And make new friends.
Here's Ned and Dallin.
This is Rachel, who took an official jam making class with Ned. She is showing us the "spoon test."
A very New York shirt.
The next bunch of photos are Ned's work.
I think I took over photo duties around here
All our little jams, pretty much ready to go.
Next: the talent portion of the evening.
Amy sang a song about not being Brooklyn-enough
Riding downtown with Rebecca, Amy and Dallin.
The next morning there was a big conference at church. After the meeting, there was rice and beans and chicken. Look at Victoria running the tables.
Here's Jacob. He's about to get married and move to Bedford (West Village Bedford, not Williamsburg Bedford). What a bright future for him!
Generally speaking, I respect people's requests not to be photographed.
Kwacey, however, is never not down for a photo op.
Too Sad to Photograph: After eating I went down to Brenda's for her last dessert party because she's moving away. Which is insane. Really knocks a few legs out from under New York that she's leaving.
The Feast of San Gennaro is once more upon my neighborhood. I know it bugs a lot of my neighbors, but I've come to accept it.
And I've become used to seeing the same things in the same spots every year, like the bounce-houses being deflated at the end of the night at the end of my street.
And the messed-up looking Superman.
...suddenly, out of nowhere, Bicyclists!
Umberto's Pig Roast, the lesser-known spin-off of Umberto's Clam House.
The Mulberry Street masses.
And the floating head of an accordian player.