The three things every young man looks forward to in a package from his mother, opened with great fanfare in front of his co-workers. Now I have to make a salad to go with the dressing, hook up my mother with cheap internet access, and make sure I don't lose the measuring cup (which I swear looks like the cup that comes with a bottle of cough syrup). :: The cherry trees in my neighborhood are beginning to bloom. Since they are all in shade, or are on the East facing sides of all the houses, they tend to be a week later then the ones in Central Park. Which means that those bad boys should be approaching full bloom. Tomorrow it will once again be time to revive the annual ritual of welcoming my tree pollen allergy by photographing the cherry blossoms. The best place in Central Park is right by the 91st Street entrance, next to the Guggenheim. There are maybe two dozen trees on each side of the staircase leading up to the jogging path around the reservoir. Each dozen is arranged in a meandering staggered row, with a path between. 'Tis the best place to get dressed up in all your Sunday best and have your picture taken. I also happen to like the canopy of white, especially when the sky is that perfect afternoon azure. Look for pics tomorrow night.