Yesterday morning I could not go back to sleep after my 4:30 pee break. "Break" really isn't a strong enough word, it implies a departure from something unpleasant. And let me assure you, MY SLEEP IS PLEASANT. There is nothing pleasant about my 4 am trips to the potty. I really should start referring to them as "disturbances" or "travesties". Possibly "WORST THINGS EVER IN THE WORLD!"?
After laying in bed for an hour I decided that tearfully waking my husband and begging him to make my body work properly was not a wise thing to do. Firstly, I'm pretty sure my husband lacks the ability to make my pregnant body behave like a non-pregnant body. But mostly, I'd done it before and it did not yield satisfactory results. Something about Silas falling asleep at his desk at work the next day and then coming home from work an exhausted mess. Or something. Anyway. I didn't wake my husband up because he needs his sleep so he can go out and bring home the prosciutto.
So, I rolled out of bed. Thankfully Silas isn't a light sleeper and I didn't have to take pains to avoid waking him. I put on a dress. I picked up my camera. And I headed out into Bloomfield, the sun just beginning to peek between the row houses.
This is a typical Bloomfield alley. All the doors open right onto the street - no sidewalks at all.
This is also quite typical. Other than Liberty, Friendship, and Penn, all the streets are one way.
A little graffiti.
I never noticed all the brightly painted fire hydrants before yesterday. Suddenly I see them everywhere.
I like this one. The yellow and blue combination makes me happy.
This is the park closest to my house. If I want to see some green this is where I go.
I frequently sit on this bench.
Friendship is a "passive park" which means you're not allowed to play sports on the premises. I assume they don't want the liability? Most of the people I see there are walking their dogs or pushing their babies in strollers.
Clover reminds me of my childhood. Like every other American child, I spent endless hours sitting the grass in my backyard making flower jewelry. I liked to imagine I was a hippy child.
There's this huge cemetery that divides Bloomfield and Lawrenceville called Allegheny Cemetery. That ginormous tower is part of the cemetery wall.
Some people (not us) have small yards. I'm noticing that a great many people grow roses and they are just beginning to bloom.
One of two Italian grocery stores in Bloomfield. The sign on the front door says they have the best tirimisu in town. One of these days I'll have to mozy over and try some. I've only been to this store once - everything is really expensive.
This is Donatelli's and I come here frequently. Usually, when my clothes are being washed at the laundromat across the street, I come in and buy three pepperoni rolls and a bottle of chocolate milk. They also advertise tirimisu, I see. Things are reasonably priced here.
Immaculate Conception St. Joseph's Parish. It's the big Catholic church on this block. All of the old Italians go there.
This is what I think of when I think of Bloomfield. (Note the painting of the flying black lady with the odd head to breast ratio. It always puzzles me at to WHY it's there.)
Back to my home street. I find it comforting, this street. I feel like every house I pass is telling me "Hi, Elisabeth! We're glad you're back from wherever you were!"
This last picture was taken from my back porch. The chimney belongs to the house behind mine. I love how the bricks on the top are perched so precariously.
So that's my neighborhood at 5:30 am. It's really a great to place to be if there's no way you can be in bed, asleep. Because sleeping really is the best. Ever.