A little backup

For those few readers who are not my mother or older sister, I will fill you in with a basic overview of my life.

I life on Morningside Avenue, which is the lower-rent side of Morningside Park, not to be confused with (but often is by cab drivers) Morningside Drive, which is the higher rent side and more commonly referred to as Morningside Heights.  Where we live is more commonly referred to as Harlem.  Or "Where?"

And the "We" in question is my boyfriend Ken and I.  We moved into Manhattan together in July after only seven months of dating.  That's how in love we were, and how incapable of paying rent alone. 
But let me assure you, if you think we moved in together too quickly, you are wrong.  We dated in high school from Pearl Harbor Day until about Memorial Day, so that adds another five plus months to our relationship, which means we dated for over a year and knew each other since the tenth grade.

Our apartment is small, but enviously decorated.  We are very clean, and the occasional cockroach is not our fault.  (I have encountered only three.)  We live in a fifth floor walk-up, so our legs are in impeccable shape.  In fact, Ken's calf muscles are so sharp and defined that we were able to throw out all of our knifes.  We have no need for them.

During the day, I attend a thing called "work."  It is challenging, stimulating, and takes place in an office building.  When I am not working, I divide my time between my many mature interests and activities--cooking, botany, yachting, antiquing, hiking in the Catskills, and an early bed time.