Caribbean Kiddies Parade

I was wondering this morning when I approached Franklin Avenue on my way to the Farmers Market. Loud music, noise, lots of people, street barriers, lots of police. Had I got something wrong? Was the West Indian Carnival Parade today, not on Monday, Labor Day? Apparently people in costumes, young people in costumes were gathering on Franklin Avenue’s side streets to form a Parade on Franklin. They were not following Eastern Parkway though and for the big Parade – called Labor Day Parade anyway – it was a bit small
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I was confused, passed the crowd and walked to the market, where I could taste local peaches. They were so much better than the mealy ones sold in the supermarkets. I bought some next to the tart apples I had last time. Plus funny tomatoes, yellow bell pepper, zucchini and okra. The okra was meant for a dinner experiment: jerk chicken with fried plantain and okra. When I got back to Franklin Avenue the people and the barriers were gone, workers swept the street, police was still around. Had it been a kind of training for the parade?
The mystery was solved when I tried to catch a bus on Classon Avenue in the afternoon. Some bus stops were not served due to the Kiddies Parade. So that’s what I had seen.

The bus was meant to take me to Fort Greene, where I headed for the Flea. Brooklyn’s biggest Saturday flea market. Real flea stuff like clothes, jewelry, dishes, pictures and books as well as crafts. I admired old doors turned into bookshelves, a table having a surface all covered with cent coins and little wooden pieces, slightly colored and with New York buildings printed on them.
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Some stalls from Smorgasboard were there as well. I just had a watermelon drink, no food – because I wanted to save my appetite for a scoop of the legendary ice cream on Vanderbilt later on my way home.
From the flea I walked to Atlantic Terminal to try on shoes. Fall would come, definitely. It was frustrating again. Not a single pair fit my wide feet. Apparently I will have to buy expensive comfort shoes.
On Vanderbilt Avenue I browsed through Unnameable Books, having a bad feeling as I had just bought three books yesterday. The bookstore is chaotic. They sell new and used books that are separately ordered in shelves along the walls and in the middle. But in front of the shelves and the cash desk area huge stacks of books are standing as well. I guess they are used books that had just come in and were not sorted into the shelves yet. Well I could help doing this.
Across the street the line in Ample Hills Creamery was even longer than last time I was there. But I waited patiently studying the passed around menu. I had Crack’d Stachio, Pistachio ice cream with pieces of white chocolate crack cookies. It is well worth to skip lunch and travel to Brooklyn just to get a scoop of these creative and heavenly ice creams. The difficulty is just to decide. So standing in line for a while feels quite ok. You can use the time to think about it.

At home I tried to do some critique homework. But this week’s stories are so well done that it is hard to find suggestions what could be improved.
My phone rang. It was Claus, my colleague from Cologne. He and his wife had just arrived in NY and he wanted to say hello and find a time to meet up. We agreed on Monday evening. I will take them to Greenwich Village and we’ll have dinner together

My experimental dinner today was ok, but could be improved. The okra was so fresh that it needed a bit more frying, the plantains should have been riper. I will try again.

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