|24th Street Singers|
When we first joined, it was the "YMCA." Now it's simply the "Y." (And the Village People? Are they now reduced to the "VP?")
We still love the Y, but we're moving on. Blame it on the yoga. My best guy's yoga-muse, Leah (and here I thought I was the only one who made his eyes sparkle, put a swing in his step, a wiggle in his ears...), well, she has now opened her own studio, and a man must follow his whoever.
Yes, back to the Y. It's a wonderful place, and there are many, many things I will miss about it. Including the neighborhood around Telegraph and 24th Streets. And not just on First Fridays:
The group of parakeets which spend their afternoons chatting each other up. For a while there was a pair of bantam chickens in one of those cages as well, but they too have moved on.
The long row of sturdy sunflowers which someone of great faith plants each spring. (This mass planting is just down the block from a prime illegal, and very active, dump spot.) Almost all of the sunflowers last into the fall with their big, fat, seed heads intact. I'm guessing that there are simply not enough marauding squirrels around. I'd be happy to export a few from around here, if anyone is interested.
To all those lovely people at the Y who have sweated and showered along with us, and those who have picked up after us, and everyone else who has helped make the Y a great place - Thank you very much!