Greenpoint Photo du Jour: Where’s Sancho?

One thing I love about Greenpoint (and New York City in general) is no matter how many times I walk down any given street, there is always some hitherto undiscovered treasure waiting to be discovered. Case in point: When I walked down Richardson Street last weekend I made the acquaintance of none other than Don Quixote.

Those of you who are interested in meeting the man from La Mancha in person can do so two doors east of the Parish Diner (roughly the intersection of Richardson and North Henry Street). I have no word as to Sancho Panza’s whereabouts. Perhaps he got deported?

Miss Heather

Greenpoint Photo du Jour: Cult, Cup and Kool Aid

Someone at Norman Avenue and Banker Street has a very, very sick sense of humor.

Miss Heather

P.S.: When I showed the above photo to my husband he laughed. I told him there was a band called “Jim Jones and the Kool Aid Kids.” He thought I was kidding. I wasn’t.

Astral Mattress Du Jour: December 28, 2007

Astral Apartments, December 28, 2007, 4:25 p.m.

Miss Heather

History of New York City, Part I

Today I have a little treat for everybody who wishes to look busy at his (or her) place of employment while not doing any actual work: I have uploaded the first nine chapters from a textbook about New York City history dating from 1899. That’s one year after consolidation! The contents (thus far) are as follows:

• A Map of the City
• Preface
• Chapter One: Introduction
• Chapter Two: The Dutch Dynasty – Peter Miniut
• Chapter Three: Wouter Van Twiller
• Chapter Four: Wilhelm Kieft
• Chapter Five: Petrus Stuyvesant
• Chapter Six: Dutch Manners and Customs
• Chapter Seven: The English Colonial Period
• Chapter Eight: The English Colonial Period – Leisler’s Revolt
• Chapter Nine: The Approach of the Revolution

All the above can be accessed by clicking here.

Enjoy!

Miss Heather

Miss Heather’s Stocking Stuffer Cavalcade

Call me a hypocrite. While I am not really a holiday season kind of gal, I always look forward to opening Christmas presents. This goes double for presents from my best buddy Rachael. She always picks out the most interesting gifts. This year was no exception.

One can of spray adhesive. Mr. Heather was a little disturbed by this item, as he suspected I might put it to some suspect use. More specifically, on him:

Great, now you can glue my dick to my stomach.

I assured him I would not do such a thing. If for no other reason because the instructions forbade me from doing so.

Then again, maybe Rachael had this nefarious scheme in mind? Why else would she have also given me:

1. A package of clothes pins shaped like feet.

2. A can of compressed air, and last, but not least…

3. A bottle of whiskey.

On that note I will leave you, dear readers, to draw your own conclusions.

Miss Heather

Merry Christmas From Green Street: Part II

The mattress from this post has gotten a couple of companions. I suppose coal is pretty damned expensive nowadays so maybe Santa decided to give some very naughty Greenpointers the gift that keeps on giving?

Miss Heather

Merry Christmas From Green Street!

My gut instinct tells me there is a story behind this mattress. The rubber glove (in the foreground) suggests it is one I am probably better off not knowing.

Miss Heather

“Tis The Season: Hausman Street, Revisited

MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM NEW YORK SHITTY!

Miss Heather

Feeling The Holiday Love at McGolrick Park

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Miss Heather

‘Tis The Season: Russell Street Part II

I don’t know which I want more: this lamp or dainty ankles. I suppose I shouldn’t have taken all those dance lessons. Either way, I adore the person who saw fit to put this in his/her window.

Miss Heather

P.S.: For those of you who are unaware, this lamp is a small reproduction of the one featured in this movie. If you have not watched A Christmas Story please do so. When the heater in the basement belches large amounts of smoke into their house take note. When I was a child Pa Heather took the same approach to fixing things: a modicum of knowledge of things mechanical coupled with an advanced command of profanity. Like father, like daughter.

That said, I prefer the segment when Ralphie’s mother entreats his younger brother to eat like a pig. It takes me back to when I was in management.