This turn of the century home oozes with feelings of love for family as well as a profound appreciation of the arts. The four of us felt the walls were wrapping us in their caring arms while the high ceilings took us back 150 years. We conversed on the iron deck over wine and cheese. We slept in comfortable beds. Our time in Brooklyn was a trip back in time to see the different ethnic neighborhoods. One was quite an eye opener; all were interesting. I yelled "Stella" up to an older woman who was poking her head out of her 3rd floor window. She laughed and and with a perfect Brooklyn accent said, "Yeah, but I'm Cathy." I talked a Hispanic mama into squirting me in the face with her hose - it was very hot on Sunday during our walking tour.
My friend and I read "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" to prepare for the trip. Some say it's the great American novel. “People always think that happiness is a faraway thing," thought Francie, "something complicated and hard to get. Yet, what little things can make it up; a place of shelter when it rains - a cup of strong hot coffee when you're blue; a book to read when you're alone - just to be with someone you love. Those things make happiness.”
― Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn We were happy at 310 Lafayette, Brooklyn. Sluta Altrig.