This was my street.
Then I would wander over to the Belle Artes Museum and even if there was nothing new , I would enjoy the collection that is there.
After that , I would wander through the Recoleta Cultural Center then have a bite at the Hard Rock Cafe. They make good french fries.
See that man standing there ? that was our Porter.
I miss him too.
First thing in the morning, he would be mopping all the floors and stairs, they were marble.
He would polish the elevator .. it was brass and iron, the old "cage " style.
Later in the day, he would slide our mail under our kitchen door.
Our first Porter was an elegant man named Pedro.
He looked like a debonaire Tango dancer .. actually ... he was .
He would look all spiffy at the end of the day, leaving to go have dinner and dance.
He retired while we lived there and we got the young one.
Totally different but very nice.
In the early days of Buenos Aires, a man named Carlos Thays came along and designed the parks and had a gazillion Plane trees planted.
Today the trees line the streets and parks.
The tree in front of our building, was right outside our living room window.
So in that noisy busy city, we could see tree leaves and branches and every Spring, a little doves nest in the tree outside our window.
One year the doves made a nest in one of my plants on the balcony.
For months, no one was allowed out there, my plants died of thirst but we had a nest full of babies.
I had a window box put in the kitchen window .. a metal one that the pots would sit in ... we had the same thing happen there, a dove nursery.
Waking up to that cooing was lovely.
Yes, every day I miss Buenos Aires, I miss our apartment and our friends.
I am going to have to do something about that.
"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend.
Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read."