On Tuesday night, my daughter and I walked from 3rd Street to Union Street to check out the shops. There was a lot to see and all the store owners were really friendly. Especially after I told them I was doing an on-line gift guide.

Many pointed out what they consider their best gifts. The woman at Scaredy Cat showed me her stock of re-issued Golden books which, she said, evoked a kind of sense memory in her because she read them as a child.

Judi at Bob and Judi’s Coolectibles told me that the Mah Jong menorahs she sells are made by an 80-year old man who lives in Kensington. "He gets the tiles in Florida and makes them up here," she said. "He’s been bringing those to us for years."

At 3R Living, the shop girl was more than happy to show me all kinds of cool things in the shop including the oriental rug patterned plastic floor mats in various sizes that may just be my gift to myself.

One of the owners of Eidolan suggested the hand knit neck warmers that come in lovely colors. She also showed me "a new groovy micro fiber" used in some of the Arianne camisoles, pajamas and nightgowns they sell there.

The owner of  Nancy Nancy says that he is now carrying more political stuff. "Check out our  anti-Bush section and our religious (we call it our sacrilegious) section over there." He apologized for how much stuff was in the store. "But we’re stocking up for Christmas. We have to." he said.

Fifth Avenue Union to Carroll Streets.

Something Else: Wonder Woman hoodie ($55.00), "Kiss me I’m 1/2 Ubekistani" t-shirt, Adidas scarves.

Bob & Judi’s Coolectibles: handmade in Brooklyn Mah Jong tile menorahs, vintage Brooklyn news photos ($10.00), tiny Betty Boo tea set, vintage plastic charm braclets ($10.00). pool balls ($5.00), vintage 1940’s Santa wrapping paper ($3.00 per sheet)

Goldy and Mac: Leopard print rubber boots ($92.00), black velvet and fur ear muffs ($32.00)

Beacon’s CLoset: Neckerchiefs ($6.00), polka dot shoelaces($2.50), Chinese notebooks ($4.50), Clown and owl nesting dolls ($12.50), plastic rose rings ($6.00), crochet earrings ($10.00)

Fifth Avenue President  to Garfield Streets.

Matter: The Design Encyclopedia from MOMA, pixel blocks building system, old fashioned phone receiver that attaches to a cell phone ($70.00)

Scaredy Cat: Reissued Golden Books: "Doctor Dan and the Bandaids," and "The Monster at the End of this Book Starring Lovable Furry Old Grover," Devil Girl Hot Kisses Hot Cinamon Candy in a tin designed by R. Crumb, "Smart Women Never Miss" fly swatter, Barbie Hanukkah gelt. Dim Sum and Sushi Flashcards.

Diana Kane: PF Flyers leather sneakers high top and low ($65 – $80)

Eidolan: Soft hand knit neck warmer ($25.00), Arianne camisoles and night gown and pajamas made of an unbelievably soft micro fiber ($48.00).

Nancy Nancy: Great Revolutionaries finger puppets, tins of Placebo Mint 2 Cure All, "Who’d of thought you’d turn out to be the gay one in the family" spiral notebooks.

Hers and Mine: Chinese red laquered magnifying glass ($26.00)

Fifth Avenue Garfield to 1st Streets.

Kimera: Black wool cardigan with wool collar ($110.00)

3R Living:Sweep Dreams child-size broom, Meyer’s Clean Day cleaning products, Meyer’s Clean Day dog shampoo, boat wood frams and trays, newspaper vases, paint your own ornamnent, necklaces and jewelry made out of wooden rulers.

Lucia: Handknit indoor/outdoor slippers with rubber soles ($32.00), sequined clutch bags ($32.00), slouchy sock boots ($68.00).

La Rosa Dance Supply: Rainbow toe socks ($3.50)

Fifth Avenue 1st to Second Streets

Jonanath Blum: Wonderful paintings of dogs, bridges, dancing Jews and others by Fifth Avenue’s hometown artist.

Fifth Avenue Second to Third Streets

Zelda Victoria: To come.

FOR THE COMPLETE "OTBKB BROOKLYN HOLIDAY GIFT GUIDE" go to today’s scoop du jour.

Walking back from my therapy appointment on 11th Street, I got to stop in all my favorite shops on Fifth Avenue to see what they had to offer in the way of holiday gifts. What a bounty!

As you’ll see, Fifth Avenue between 10th and Union Street has it all. From the Pink Pussycat to Tip Top Gifts, it’s a holiday wonderland.

GIFTS ON FIFTH AVENUE

FIFTH AVENUE 3rd to 4th Streets

Living on Seventh:
Razor: Men’s old fashioned wool caps
Serene Rose: Hand dyed, boiled wool scarves in unusual shapes ($69.00)

FIFTH AVENUE 4th to 5th Streets

Pink Pussycat: Kinky hosiery
Under the Pig: Phrenology head

FIFTH AVENUE 6th to 7th Streets

Brooklyn Superhero Supply Co: Great clocks, capes, McSweeneys’ books, zany superhero stuff, great stocking stuffers.

Zuzu’s: Blown glass bear oranments, set of 12 ($40.00). Boxed set of four colorful bowls ($30.00), Glitter pine cones: ($1.50)

FIFTH AVENUE 7th to 8th Streets

Office Equipment and Furniture: Great coat racks ($40.00)
Save on
Fifth: Paint by Number sets, Matchbox Carwash, Minnie Mouse watches
(6.99), mod patterned mops and brooms ($9.99), decorations a go go.

FIFTH AVENUE 8th to 9th Streets

Galaxy Comics: Family Guy figurines, Corpse Bride figurines, X-Men
Christmas ornaments, Richard Nixon doll, Charlie Brown bobble heads.

Tip Top Gifts: Commando sweaters with elbow and shoulder patches,
pea coats, flame wallets, Everlast boxing clubs in red, punching bag,
Timex watches

FIFTH AVENUE 10th to 11th Streets

Payless Shoe Source: Hello Kitty slippers, furry bags, colorful embroidered slippers that look Indian, blingy evening bags

Next: Fifth Avenue Union to 3rd Streets….

FOR THE COMPLETE "OTBKB BROOKLYN HOLIDAY GIFT GUIDE" go to today’s scoop du jou

NIGHT AND DAY
230 FIFTH AVENUE (AT PRESIDENT)
PARK SLOPE, BROOKLYN NY 11215
718-399-2161

PERFORMANCES DECEMBER 2005

SUNDAY DECEMBER 4

6PM SEX SCENES
Erotic Stories by Polly Frost & Ray Sawhill
Read by: Jake Thomas, Karen Grenke, Lyndsay Becker, Jason Jacobs, Mason Pettit, Tami Mansfield & Sarah Kozinn

MONDAY DECEMBER 5

6PM ARTISTS SALON–all welcome

TUESDAY DECEMBER 6

7PM Kevin Ray

My sister, Ducky, and I walked from 3rd Street to 15th Street on Sunday shopping for a birthday present for our stepmother. On the way, we stopped into all our favorite  stores to see what they had in stock for the gift giving season.

One of the things I like best about shopping in the neighborhood is the chance to converse with the shopkeepers.

Today I learned that the owner of Otto is now featuring her own label of clothing and bags. Sweet Charity gives a small portion of their profits to animal rescue organizations in upstate New York and Utah, and Root Stock has logs that smell like coffee.

The complete Broklyn Gift Shopping list is on Scoop du Jour (below).

GIFTS ON Seventh Avenue

3rd to 4th Streets

Living on Seventh: Soft fleecy bathrobes in nice colors
City Casuals: Paisley shawls

4th to 5th Streets

Lumiere: plexi hands (good for holding jewelry), plexi nudes for earrings.

7th to 8th Streets

Root Stock: Java Coffee fire log (yup), Buddha statue, ceramic apples, Veitver sachets.

8th to 9th Streets

Brooklyn Industries: Soft laptop sleeve in fun patterns
Park Slope Stationers: Claire Fontaine notebooks.

9th to 10th

Otto: "3 dots" polka dot cashmere sweaters (pricey), bathing cap bags, Nethermeade Perfume from Brooklyn Apothocary, sexy underwear

11th to 12th

Nest: Paper curtains

13th to 14th

Sweet Charity: plastic bowls in hot colors, Nigella Lawson measuring cups
Shop next door: Striped Bakelite braclets in window

14th to 15th

Toy Space: anatomically correct soft baby dolls
Baby Bird: Snoopy t-shirts for babies
Bird: Shell & fabric scarves/belts

15th to 16th

Rare Device: Hand printed notecards, fleece cell phone holders, tiny birthday books.

Lucky for us, we in Park Slope don’t have to go to malls to purchase Christmas/Hanukah gifts for friends and family.

Instead of the stifling, claustrophobic atmosphere of a mall with its national brand uniformity and commercialism, we can WALK from one end of the Slope to another and support our favorite local merchants.

On my ramblings from 3rd Street to Lincoln Place on Seventh Avenue. I selected one item per store that tickled my fancy. Coming soon: Fifth Avenue, South Slope, and more.

Please send any great gifts you’ve seen in our local shops to louisecrawford@gmail.com

GIFTS ON 7th Avenue:

3rd to 2nd Streets

–Seventh Avenue Books: "Elements of Style" by E.B. White illustrated by Maira Kalmam
–Park Slope Books:A rare photography book
—Good Footing: Ice skates with velcro closures
—Tarzian West: Creuset ceramic jar for utensils

1st to Garfield

—Artesana: Mexican Ornaments, black ceramic candleabras
—The Clay Pot: Hilary Druxman necklaces or earrings
—Treasure Chest: Pylones mod dog leash
—Lolli: Colorful terri cloth bibs
—Mr. Choi: Socks, yoga pants

Garfield to Carroll

—Jack Rabbit: Brooklyn Half-Marathon Training Program
—D’Vine Taste: Dried Fruits, Halvah
—Community Bookstore: "The Complete New Yorker,"  "A Field Guide to Getting Lost" by Rebecca Solnit, "Veronica" by Mary Gaitskill, "Brooklyn Follies" by Paul Auster
—Little Things: Candy Dominoes Game

Carroll to President

—Loom: Beaded elastic belts, Cavallini & Co. desk calendar illustrated with vintage postcards.
—Sound Track: Anthony and the Johnsons, Walk the Line Soundtrack, Thelonious Monk Quartet with John Coltraine,

Union to Berkeley

—Peekaboo Kids: Ultra soft hat and scarf sets in cool colors
—Kiwi: Cashmere gloves
—Zuzu’s Petals: Motion Sensitive chirping bird

Berkeley to Lincoln

—Slope Sports: Pearl iZumi hats for winter running in cool patterns
—Orange Blossom Kids: Mini ugly doll
—Stitch Therapy: Yarn kits for kids

Thanks to Eugene J. Patron, Press & Communications Director of Prospect Park, I knew that Thanksgiving Day was the opening day of the Kate Wollman Rink in our beloved park.
I am now on Mr. Patron’s e-mailing list, which means I am up-to-the-minute on all park events.

Daughter and I packed up our skates bought last winter at Good Footing, and car-serviced over to the rink (with her best friend and neighbor). My friend downstairs said she would TIVO the Macy’s parade so the girls could see it later.

The Wollman staff was in good spirits it being the first day of operation. No-one seemed too pissed off about working on Thanksgiving. The guy at the bag-check, candy and supply shop, learned that the price of everything had gone up since last year. "First I heard about it," he said cutting me a break on the price of the bagcheck because I didn’t have 8 cents in change. "Just this time, okay?"

It now costs $1.08 to check your bag up from one buck. No biggie.

The cafe was in fully operational mode: their famous great-for dipping -in-hot-chocolate Churros were as tasty as ever. In addition to H.C., the girls enjoyed cotton candy (yuck), and popcorn sitting outside on the picnic tables.

Days like yesterday make me feel so privileged to live in the small town of Brooklyn. The rink wasn’t crowded at all and its view of the lake surrounded by reeds, grasses and fall foilage was spectacular.

The sky was full blue with majestic clouds and the sun warmed the over-dressed skaters as they skated round and round.

In the months since we last went skaing, Daughter has become an extremely confident and speedy skater. A far cry from the imbalanced, "hold on to me" skater she was less than a year ago.

I attribute it to her excellent physical coordination and balance AND to her NEW SKATES, fancy pink ones with Velcro closures.  Having your own skates is half the battle in the effort to skate well.  Those rented skates are just awful.

Even my skating has improved expoentially since purchasing my own skates.

We walked back through the park passing the Prospect Park Audubon Center & Visitor Center at the Boathouse The "Heart of Brooklyn" trolley picked us up in front of the Zoo and took us to Grand Army Plaza. We walked to Third Street in thick piles of leaves. Daughter and friend picked acors the whole way.

"We’re going to paint them when we get home," Daughter said. And they did.

FOR WHAT’S GOING ON IN PROSPECT PARK TODAY SEE TODAY’S DAILY SPECIALS ON SCOOP DU JOUR (below)

On Thanksgiving morning, a neighbor knocked on the door of another neighbor. She was holding four red folding chairs.

"Read the blog. You gotta read the blog," she said. "And here are some chairs for your party."

I am paraphrasing. But I think I’m close. When I spoke to my neighbor downstairs, the one who was having 14 guest over for Thanksgiving, we had this conversation:

"I haven’t read the blog yet: It’s been so hectic around here," she said. "What did you say?"

"I said you needed chairs because the number of your Thanksgiving guests exceeded the number of chairs in your apartment," I told her. I also assured her that nothing too personal about her had been blabbed or blogged to the world. But then I remembered thepart about the hat.

"I also mentioned the thing about you wearing a woolen hat while you cook (instead of a hair net) because you’re so nervous about people finding hair in your food," I said nervously.

"And I was wearing the wool hat when she came by with the chairs. She said, ‘You really are wearing a hat.’"

I wondered for a minute if I had crossed some kind of boundary by blogging about the green wool hat, the red chairs.

But she said she didn’t mind about the wool hat. And she really needed the chairs.

On Ducky’s first Thanksgiving, observing my sister with her 15-month-old brought back memories of trying to enjoy a family event with a baby.

THE GOOD PART: All the cooing and oohing on the part of one’s relatives. Everyone volunteered to hold the precious one and she was passed around the table like a bowl of mashed potatoes.

Ducky looked a tad startled by the new faces and the strange  environment (a teriffic restaurant in the West Village called Inside). But she was mostly game. And she did flash that to-die-for smile.

THE BAD PART:  By the time my sister and her husband arrived at the restaurant,  they were already exhausted after dressing Ducky (which involved tights), and packing supplies — books, toys, diapers, changes of clothing, and special baby food — for the outing.

Yes, I remember it well. I felt a little guilty for the fact that I was able to enjoy the company of my relatives and my Thanksgiving meal unencumbered, for the most part, by the needs of crying or whining children. Now that my kids are 14 and 8…

I told a fib. Daughter, picky eater she, was unbearably hungry AND quite picky about the soup course. She would not even TRY the incredibly delicious squash soup with creme fraiche.

THE BAD PART: Knowing that a hunger-induced snit fit could be on the way, I offered to take her to a nearby Grey’s Papaya (we’d spotted it on the way to the restaurant) for a hot dog to quell her dizzying hunger. She was good to go.

THE GOOD PART: We managed to do this without anyone knowing that my daughter ate a hot dog from Grey’s Papaya in the middle of our Thanksgiving feast.

Phew.

Indulgent mothering aside, having a picky eater isn’t something I want to advertise to my extended family.

On Ducky’s first Thanksgiving, Ducky’s dad had to duck out mid-meal to take Ducky for a stroll in her stroller for a nap. He came back a half-hour later with a non-sleeping Ducky.

Ducky and her parents left the party early sensing that she needed to settle down in her own crib. It was time for bed. For all of them.

Thanksgiving eve on Third Street. I visited with my friend on the first floor who is having 14 people over for the feast.

I watched her whip up a pumpkin pie, a pecan pie, and cranberry sauce. while we drank wine and covered a free-associative spectrum of topics.

Daughter and her two kids swirled around noisily.

My friend was wearing a woolen cap because she lives in fear that someone will find a hair in her cooking.

She’s serious.

She told me that, as the day progressed, her husband kept calling with word of more  guests. What started as a small family Thanksgiving had evolved into crowd scene. Too many for her table. Worried that her 13-pound Food Coop turkey might not be enough. she had to add pork loin, ribs, and turkey wings to the menu.

Earlier, she phoned one of the guests, a good friend, and took her up on her offer to bring gnocchi and polenta with sage and butter sauce. "We need more food," she told her.

I think she’ll have enough food.

Sitting and chatting in her apartment she seemed anything but worried about Thursday’s feast. The meal was coming together slowly dish by dish.

The wine was helping.

She asked me if she can borrow chairs. "Of course," I said. We’re having Thanksgiving in a West Village restarant with 21 family members on my mother’s side.

We won’t need the chairs.

Frankly, we’ve gotten lazy about going to the Thanksgiving Parade. Too cold, too much of a schlep from Brooklyn, too early. We don’t even watch it on TV anymore.

And it ain’t what it used to be. So commercial, so glitzy, so…different. But what isn’t? This year they’re adding Dora the Explorere and Scooby Doo. Artist Tom Otterness has
created a 33-foot-tall Humpty Dumpty, frowning mid-"great fall."  As usual,  the parade route begins at 77th Street and Central Park West, proceeds to Columbus Circle, and turns onto Broadway. It turns west on 34th Street (just past Macy’s Herald Square) and finishes at Seventh Avenue.

Back when we aspired be the ultimate New York parents, the parade was a must-do activity. When my son was 3, we all bundled up and stood under a Broadway marquis on a freezing cold day. Friends brought a thermos of hot chocolate and it felt like the most essential New York childhood experience of all.

For a few years, my cousin rented a hotel room on the 5th floor of the Central Park’s Mayflower Hotel, which provided a perfect, indoor spot for viewing the balloons. To watch the parade from indoors is one of the great luxuries of New York City life. A real perk. One windy year, we watched a ballon deflate before our eyes after it rammed into a lamp post.

When my sister lived across the street from the Museum of Natural History, she invited Son and Daughter (who was only 2 at the time) to sleep over so they could watch the blowing up of the balloons the night before the parade, one of those great New York traditions. So great, that it’s almost as popular as the parade itself and unbearably crowded.

My childhood memories of the parade are vivid. When I was a kid, I remember being bundled in a snowsuit on freezing cold Thanksgiving mornings and standing out on Central Park West too short to see the parade.

In fourth grade, a classmate invited a group of girls over to her 77th Street duplex for a sleepover. Her parents took us out in the middle of the night to watch the balloons – Underdog and Mickey Mouse being blown up on 77th Street. This was before it was a popular activity. back then, it was strictly for residents of 77th Street and 81st Street. How special we felt walking outside in our nightgowns and overcoats beneath a crystal clear night sky.

The next morning we were out early watching the parade in full swing. The foot of one of the balloons nearly touched my friend’s little brother’s head as he sat on his father’s shoulders.

I asked my sister if she has plans to take her 15 month old daughter into Manhattan for her first parade. "Not this year," she said. They’ll probably take her next year when Ducky is two. She can sit on her daddy’s shoulders and watch the enormous balloons up above.

It’s a New York tradition she won’t want to miss.

Yesterday morning, Mister Oh So Blase about the new Harry Potter movie woke up with a start: "What time is it?" he screamed from his bedroom.

We told him the time (it was 12:30 p.m. or so, his usual weekend hour of wake up) and he told us that he needed to go out to get advanced tickets for the 7p.m. show of "Harry Potter and the Goblets of Fire." at the Pavillion.

Actually, he asked Husband, and then me, if we wanted to go out and get him a ticket. But we declined.

On Saturday night, he and his friends had tried to get into the 7 p.m. show and it was sold out. So he was determined to get in Sunday night, as his desire to see the new movie had risen to a fever pitch.

The mattter of advanced tickets was settled when word came, via cell phone, that his friend’s mother was picking up a ticket for him. A flurry of phone calls followed, "Are you going to the movie? Okay. See you there." and "You going to the movie tonight? Good. See you later…"

A plan was in place. Advanced tickets had been secured. Things were progressing in a postitive direction.

When he came home from the movie I was already reading in bed. He poked his head through my bedroom door: "Mom, do you know where all my Harry Potter books are?"

I told him to look in all the obvious places. They used to have an honored spot on the top row of his bookcase but they’d apparently moved on. I’d forgotten how after seeing each movie, Son usually wanted to  re-read the book, sometimes more than one book. Following the third movie he was so outraged by how much had been left out that he wanted to savor those missing parts.

But this time was different. I could tell that he’d thoroughly enjoyed the movie. "It put me in a Harry Potter mood. I need all my books," he said. Eventually he found them in various bookcase around the house. He was also starving. In all the excitement to see the movie, he’d forgotten to have dinner. We were all out when he left so he missed our family meal.

"Can you make me something to eat," he asked. I agreed figuring I might get some interesting insight into why he liked this film so much better than the last. "I always knew that the fourth one would make a great movie," he said. "J.K. Rowling wrote it right after the first movie came out and it’s very cinematic. There’s mystery, flashbacks, a lot of action. I somehow knew this one would be good."

I watched the eggs carefully; my son likes them perfectly sunny-side-up. "There was almost no Quidditch in the movie," he added, the only negative he had to say. He thought they did a good job of not leaving anything out. And, according to him, it wasn’t really very violent at all despite what the reviews said. "Some guy cuts his hand off but it goes by really fast." 

Son ate his fried egg sandwich in his bedroom with the fourth book lying open on his chest. There were books from the bookcase all over the floor.  He seemed eager to get back to his reading. We urged him to go to bed as he needs to be up bright and early to take the subway to school. But being in a Harry Potter kind of mood, he might just not be able to stop reading until he gets to the end. Even if it is over 500 pages long.   

When Son was in second grade, a friend of his who had a friend in London heard about a book called, "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone."

While J.K. Rowling’s magical epic was already gathering a readership in England, the book was unavailable in the United States until the Spring of 1999 (I may have my dates wrong).

Our friends discovered that you could purchase the book on the English Amazon.com. Barely anyone in Brooklyn had even heard of the book.

Our friends kept talking about the interesting book they were reading to their sons at bedtime. We waited until the American edition came out and I read it to my son at bedtime.

I noticed right away that the book was well-written and noticibly more complex in terms of form. It really felt like a work of literary fiction for adults but with a subject that was continually interesting to children.

I also noticed that the the chapters were long — and it was time-consuming to finish one before bedtime. But we read the book quickly – one chapter a night.

My son became obsessed with the book and when his birthday rolled around in June he wanted a Harry Potter party. Mind you, this was before there was Harry Potter merchandise, party plates, games, etc. This was years before the first movie. In fact, nobody in my son’s second grade class had read Harry Potter or even heard of it in June of 1999.

We sent out invitations to his friends and classmates. It read like the letter Harry gets from Hogwarts, the Wizard’s school, inviting him to attend the school.

Many of the parents were intrigued by the invite and thought we were massively creative. The truth was, we’d copied it out of the book — just changing a few names and dates.

The party itself was planned to a T. My sister bought supplies for a wand-making activity. We created our own Sorting Hat, the hat used at Hogwarts to determine which special society (Gryffindor, Slitherin, etc.) a student belongs in. There was "Pin the Letter on Hedwig," a huge painting of a beautiful owl like the one in the book who delivers mail to Harry. On my son’s loft bed we created a simulation of a Quidditch game. At the conclusion of the party, my husband read the first chapter of the book.

Needless to say, the party was a roaring sucess and my son was pleased as punch. The parents were happy not to have to drop their kids off at Kids ‘n Action or a bowling alley and were excited by what sounded like a teriffic book.

By spring of the next year, Harry Potter was a world-wide phenomenon. Scholastic released the second book (or was it the third?) at midnight on a Friday night that year, a huge event for kids who showed up at bookstores dressed as characters in the book or in pajamas as Son did. J.K Rowling was on her way to becoming the richest woman in England.

Soon there was a Harry Potter movie and Hollywood images of all the characters and places that had previously been conjured in the imagination of those lucky children who were the first to read the book before it became the iconic bestseller it is now.

Now Son is so "been there, done that" about the opening of the new movie. Daughter, on the other hand, went with Husband the very first night. Son  "hated" the third movie because it left so much out, not surprisingly since the book was 500 pages long.  At 14 his movie tastes have evolved a bit: "Jarhead," "Harold and Maude,"  and "Garden State" are favorites.

He and his friends intentionally avoided the hoopla of opening night at the Pavillion, attending instead a production of Galileo by Brecht at Berkeley Carroll that his best friend was in. Just so you don’t think I’m showing off in that "my child is more interesting than your child" way, I’m not. Son found the Brecht play to be quite boring (though he said his friend was EXCELLENT).

My guess is that Son and his friends will catch the movie on the sly this weekend or next. While they’re doing a good job of pretending that they don’t care a bit about the new Harry Potter, underneath it all, I suspect, they’re dying to see Harry, Hermoine, and Ron in the latest installment of that wizardly tale.

UPDATE: Son and friends tried to see the 7 p.m. show on Saturday but it was sold out. He made fun of me this morning for posting, as he put it, this "aren’t we cool for knowing about Harry Potter before you did" post.

One of the fun things about having a Brooklyn blog is hearing from readers with news and information about the neighborhood. I encourage everyone to keep me posted on all the latest news! I love to know what’s going on and it’s hard to keep track of everything.

This arrived this morning in my In-Box (my email is louisecrawford@gmail.com). Thank you to the person who sent it.

Just wanted to let you know that a new restaurant —
Little Dishes — is going into the space vacated by Cornbread Cafe.
According to a sign on their window the website is littledishes.org.
Says it will be "American cuisine."

Also, Anthony’s — the new brick oven pizza place on 7th Ave btw 14th
and 15th — is scheduled to open on Monday November 21. They are connected in some way to a legendary pizza place in Forest Hills but I can’t remember which one (anyone know?)

There is also a new Thai place going on 7th between 13th and 14th, I
believe.  It’s under construction now.

Often, at a nice restaurant in Park Slope, you see a table of women
talking in a very animated way. They seem relaxed, even uninhibited.
Talking loudly, they throw their heads back in laughter and discuss
husbands, children, school, money, careers, politics. The big stuff and
the small.

You just might be witnessing a "Mom’s Dinner." More than likely
these are women who met when their children were in pre-school. What
started as an excuse to get a break from the routines of family life,
has evolved into a bi-monthly ritual; a A sanity-check, if you will. A
chance to compare notes and support one another, these evenings are
great way to stay connected and share information.

The women I "Mom’s Dinner" with were introduced at an orientation
meeting at Daughter’s pre-school. The night we met, the teacher said,
"Look around you. You are going to know these people for a very long
time."

She was right.

We were young and innocent then. Ourr children were only
2-years-old. They’d never been in school before. We were worried that
they wouldn’t separate, behave, enjoy this new chapter in their lives.

Most pre-schools have something called Phase-In. In the first weeks
of school, the parents are asked to stay in or nearby the classroom
just in case your child has a difficult adjustment.

Some people have to spend more time than others. Daughter was
quickly acclimated to life in the classroom — she didn’t hang on to me
at all. But some of the other kids had a more tearful time.

Over school-provided bagels, we talked about separation anxiety,
transitional objects, bottles, thumbsucking, and potty training.

Our talk evolved as our children did. Now our kids are in elementary
school. They read the Harry Potter books and "A Series of Unfortunate
Events;" take piano lessons and dance; talk back and give attitude. All
the usual stuff.

And the Mom’s Dinners have changed, too. We talk about who we are
now. It’s seems like we’re on an upward trajectory: there’s less anxous
talk, checking to see if our children are "normal." We’re happier, more
settled, a little more comfortable in our own skin.

Tonight, we were a group of 5. The restaurant was buzzing with a hip crowd. Big parties, couples.

The pomegranite Cosmos were incredible. So were we.