NYMYSTERIES.COM January 15, 2022: Central Park Photos

Central Park
Fall in Central Park
Summertime in Central Park

Walking across Central Park yesterday didn’t happen. Warmly dressed and for once welcoming my mask’s coverage, the wind convinced me to take a bus to the upper west side.

One cynical note…


NYMYSTERIES.COM January 8, 2022

Writing your obituary? Why not? What else would you do on a Friday night? 

GOT = Getting Older Together is a group of women mostly who attend Judson Memorial Church. The  meetings are held in our homes. There’s a moderator and/or an authority on the evenings’ subject matter. Yesterday at 6 p.m. we zoomed to Bethene Trexel’s and Jon Tenney’s house. Kay Cassell was the moderator who suggested we write our own obituaries. She listed three essential elements of an obituary: l. Name, age, date of birth and of death. Cause of death is optional. 2. Where you lived, single, married history, family, profession, hobbies, passions. 3. Listing survivors.

There were about 35 people attending the session. Many, like me, were flummoxed by our own ignorance. Kay suggested we keep the obituary to 200-300 words and include a recent photo. Read obituaries!

This led to other discussions about New York laws concerning burials and cremation. Several people recalled the death of a spouse or other family member and how dependent they were on funeral directors and the clergy. 

Many thanks to Kay for leading us through this process.   






Human beings suffer.

They torture one another.

They get hurt and get hard.

No poem or play or song

Can fully right a wrong

Inflicted and endured.

History says, Don’t hope

On the side of the grave,’

But then, once in a lifetime

The longed for tidal wave

Of justice can rise up

And hope and history rhyme.

So hope for a great sea-change

On the far side of revenge.

Believe that a further shore

Is reachable from here.

Believe in miracles.

And cures and healing wells.

Call miracle self-healing,

The utter self revealing

Double-take of feeling.

If there’s fire on the mountain

And lightening and storm

And a god speaks from the sky

That means someone is hearing

The outcry and the birth-cry

Of new life at its term.

It means once in a lifetime

That justice can rise up

And hope and history rhyme.


NYMYSTERIES.COM December 26, 2021

Happy Boxing Day! We’re all set. The James Webb Space Telescope was launched on Christmas Day. Before that it was parked in South America, French Guiana? while technicians checked it out.

I spent Christmas Day telling all my friends how much I loved them. The day was capped by a wonderful Christmas dinner in Brooklyn with more lovable friends and delicious food.

Let’s have some fun. Photos of Christmas

My companion and I found the nativity figures in Mexico. The plate I found in Sicily.
The Whale (It, Its) in its Christmas finery.
They know how to do things BIG in Brooklyn.
Every year in the heart of Brooklyn these wonderful people set up this adorable scene.

Bethene & Jon

NYMYSTERIES.COM December 18, 2021

New York Times photo of Bethene Trexel

Bethene Trexel and Jon Tenney are two Judson Memorial Church treasures.  Married with grown children, both with different interests, yet they are there for each other. Whether it’s in New York State on the Vermont border, staying in an ancestral home Jon inherited, or traveling over hill and dale to Lake George to eat in a Howard Johnson to revive childhood memories of 28 flavors of ice cream, it’s always an adventure to be with Bethene and Jon. 

This week Bethene was honored by the New York Times for her years of volunteering with the Advocacy, Counseling and Entitlement Services program of Community Service Society. Bethene invented a chart to help people figure out Part D of Medicare. It is so useful that she updates it throughout the year. 


NYMYSTERIES.COM December 10, 2021

I was in the Thompkins Square library yesterday. It’s a wonderful place: quiet, organized, courteous and efficient personnel. Nothing’s perfect. As I was eying the carefully arranged stacks of local newspapers, a fashionable woman carrying a pad and a bunch of tiny notebooks approached me.  She began a rehearsed speech about the importance of the library and suggested I take a brief survey. She showed me the tiny notebooks and offered one if I took the survey. I wanted to tell her to get lost but forced myself to be mannerly. She showed me the pad on which there were rigamarole questions such as how long have you used the library, etc. There was also a rectangular space in which she expected me to write something or other. At that point, I stopped. She became pissed off and chided me for not continuing, saying I had given her permission to interview me. I had? Why am I whining? Because I’ve been receiving this kind of survey request from restaurants as in tell us what you especially liked about our restaurant; from hospitals as in describe your appointment with Doctor X. If it was a good visit, put it on social media. If it wasn’t get in touch with us at this link.  Enough already.

The First Presbyterian Church
Perfect for a one bedroom
The frame’s for sale

The First Presbyterian Bazaar on Fifty Avenue was delightful. Parishioners’ hand-me-downs and hand-made Christmas ornaments were the specialty. The volunteers were very Christian: courteous, patient and out of change.


Stuyvesant Town has a farmers’ market every Sunday. It takes its hiatus mid-December so I’d like to thank the hard working, cheerful and efficient vendors. Here are some photos from the market.

Stuyvesant Town’s Farmers’ Market
Stuyvesant Town Farmers’ Market
Stuyvesant Town’s Farmers’ Market


NYMYSTERIES.COM  Nov. 27, 2021

The nineteenth century house( (and the twentieth century car)
Barn. Behind it is a twelve seater outhouse

Such a busy time: a weekend in Warwick and the week capped with a splendid Thanksgiving.

My real estate friend (two places in Florida, two places in Warwick, one place in N.J.) Invited me to his latest acquisitions, a farm and a nearby house. He and I arrived late Friday afternoon at his five acre farm. From city to country in fewer than two hours. Lurking is suburbia. Originally a dairy farm, it consists of a large white clapboard 19th century house and four red barns. Why red?

Dining Room

ARmistice Day

NYMYSTERIES.COM  Nov. 13, 2021

In honor of Armistice Day
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead.
Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields.
John McCrae, 1872 – 1918

Molyvos & angelique Kidjo

Friday evening was a happening. Remember happening? Wasn’t it first popular about forty years ago? My adventurous friend and I began the evening with an early supper at Molyvos. We made it early because, as you all know, you have to present an id and a vaccination card. Molyvos is an old-fashioned, real restaurant. By old fashioned I mean their waiters are professional, not actors resting. I geared myself up with champagne, hoping we would gain entrance to Angélique Kidjo.

I had thought that I’d bought the Kidjo tickets from the Carnegie Hall box office. Wrong. I bought them from a shadow organization that gathers tickets and then sells them to dopes like me for a substantial increase. I paid $262.37 for two tickets in Row H. That’s the second to last section of the balcony. I was emailed two tickets with the original owner’s name. The original price was $34.00 each ticket. So you understand the champagne. We got in. The Carnegie Hall personnal were professional and pleasant.

Angélique Kidjo and her west African friends and artists created a dynamic evening. She was as wonderful as promised. We were surrounded by very young people who knew all the songs’ lyrics. Carnegie Hall was packed. I loved being there, a few feet away from the ceiling chandelier.

You,who! Greetings from Row H, seat 106

Mary Jo Robertiello's mysteries and life