Tonight was the floor dinner, a monthly event that gathers most of the residents on the sixth floor in the private dining room to socialize and get served a dinner arranged by one of the residents with the Plaza chef, Klaus. (My daughter works as a cook, and says that all chefs are crazy. Klaus apparently fits the stereotype. But he certainly cooks a superb apple pie.)
Anyway, after dinner, I was walking back with my next-door-neighbor-to-the-north Betsy, who invited me into her apartment to see the layout. She is a photographer and water color artist. I hadn't spoken with her husband Ray before, but I learned this evening that he too is an artist -- pencil drawings and water colors. Their work is admirable -- they're not hobbyists, they're Actual Artists. I wish I could include some photos of their work so you could enjoy it too. Their apartment is both elegant and welcoming.
Then Betsy came over to meet Ochi, my cat. She got along well with him, even eliciting a purr or two. I apologized profusely as we walked in, because my apartment is an inelegant, unwelcoming mess. "Nonsense," Betsy said, "it's where you live."
I think I'm going to like having Betsy for a neighbor.