I'm not one to think about numbers, but they were on my mind this morning.
2, 7, 13.
2: I spoke to Leddy, the three-year old, last night.
"Are you going on vacation because you're tired of working," she asked.
"That's right," I said.
"Can you stay with me for one week," she asked.
"Two weeks Leddy. Two," I said with excitement.
"Ok, but I want you to stay one week." she said.
We'll work it out, Leddy. You know you love me.
***
7: I'm almost at the end of my seventh year in New York. Wow!
***
13: I realized this morning that this month marks the 13th anniversary of something big: My First Trip to New York - July 4, 1997. That was an incredible visit full of terrific memories: taking a chance on a $149 flight, the first cab ride, waiting all night for tickets to Rent. And then there were all of the trips that followed. But on that first trip, I distinctly remember thinking to myself "I could live here one day."
And so it happened. I'm glad it did.
***
Here's to chance, hope, and possibility.
And a vacation.