I grew up in the suburbs of New York City. And by suburbs I mean total and utter suburbia, a simple 35 minute train ride from Grand Central up to a tiny town packed with houses that - gasp! - have yards. It was quaint. Idyllic. Picturesque. Suburban. (Try not to associate it with that Leo and Kate movie, Revolutionary Road, ok?)
Anyway, I've since moved into Manhattan but my parents and brother still live in our house in Westchester. It is wonderful to have a home - and by that I mean a real house with a real sized kitchen and actual bedrooms with doors - so close by. It was particularly welcome in the warmer months, when an escape from the perpetually humid and smoggy streets of the city is beyond necessary. While it's easy to complain that the proximity requires me to be looped in to family events all the time, it is well worth it to have family so close by.
This weekend, Wright and I will be house-sitting with Bowen out in the suburbs. In the summer, this would mean endless grilling, tennis, pool time, and in general just soaking up the sun. Now that autumn has quickly taken over, however, those activities have quickly been crossed off the list for the weekend. The problem is, though, that even though it's chilly out (ugh, I did wear tights today!), the leaves haven't changed yet. So raking leaves and jumping in the piles is out as well. And it's supposed to rain.
So, the question is, just what will we do out there this weekend? We're so used to running all over the place in the city, seeing this exhibit, exploring that farmer's market, visiting this new store, eating at that restaurant, that a weekend where we're not busy seems unfathomable. Is it pathetic that having nothing on the schedule tomorrow is stressing me out? (Yes, it is, and you can tell me that.)
Anyway, we'll see what happens. I think the most important part will be to force myself to relax, sit down, enjoy a book, make an attempt at baking. Doesn't that sound quaint? Suburban? Yeah. We'll see.
Have a great weekend,