Once more

Sometimes, if the weather is surprisingly breezy and you find yourself with not much to do, you may stand torn at the corner of your office building and then opt, resolutely, for home.  Home, where you haven't been for a week.  Where you can wrangle your bike away from the banister and hop on and ride up steep steep Mount Prospect Park and, prevailing, wend your way back down the Slope, through newly-navigable Grand Army Plaza, down to Christie's, home of the giantest $2.50 chicken patties you'll ever see and that curious New Yorky ice cream phenomenon, the grape nut.  Flavor the nuts do not have in spades, but they do provide a nice crunchy counterpoint to the buttery eggnog ice cream in which they sit.  And you too can sit, on a traffic island with a bench, and watch the cabbies and the yuppies and the hippies and the world glide by.  On the return trip, you can coast down the park, only pedaling once, and take in the glory of the house-lined tree-lined streets of home.  You can trot up the stairs, make a quick swap of bike for laptop, and step out once more into the perfect air, bound for a cafe and a too-expensive so-refreshing blueberry lemonade and a computer keyboard and the sensation of starting over, saying the same thing again and again, maybe better, maybe worse, but making it new once more on this July evening.