Realizing that my daughter has been bitten by the horse bug. Wondering if we can afford to keep her in boots and riding tights and lessons.
Driving 700 miles round-trip to deliver puppy to his birth home in the Trinity Alps. Four and a half months is too young to go to a kennel and he’s too much of a handful for my mother’s caregivers to handle while we’re away on a visit to New York.
Getting hooked on one of my daughter’s audiobooks during the long drive. The Hunger Games trilogy sucks you in, even if it’s dystopian and you’re not a “young adult” or even a “young-ish adult.”
Landing at JFK and deciding in a fit of frugality to take the A train into town.
Waiting for more than an hour for the A train to arrive, in 105 degree heat and humidity. Feeling sweat dripping down the backs of my knees. Remembering that this is one thing I don’t miss about New York City. Being thankful my husband does not chide me for said fit of frugality.Picking up daughter Erin and her best friend Margaret at sleep-away camp in Connecticut. Marveling that Erin has brushed her hair during the preceding two weeks. (She didn’t last year.) Alas, she claims that this year she did not brush her teeth for two weeks. Hoping that this is just bravado.
Going to our old church, Grace Church Brooklyn Heights, and seeing folks who are willing to brave the heat. Feeling for the clergy. A heat wave is no time to be wearing vestments.
Seeing as many New York friends as we can. Reveling in the ferment and energy of the people who live in this city. Remember that it’s the people in New York that we miss the most.
Fighting our way through traffic on the FDR. Would it kill these drivers to let us merge? Remembering that we don’t miss ALL the people who live in this city.
Oogling the Alexander McQueen exhibit at the Met.
Dragging the kids to the Cloisters. Actually getting them interested in medieval mille fleur tapestries and creepy reliquaries. (They are especially grossed out/fascinated by a reliquary in the shape of a saint’s foot.)Watching daughter navigate the boat pond in Central Park. Walking through Times Square like a tourist. Aack. We have become the people who used to annoy us when we lived here.
Being thankful that we’ve seen most all of the city’s major attractions, so we don’t have to race about NYC like maniacs trying to see everything. Daughter Erin says she doesn’t remember going on the Ferris wheel at Toys R US Times Square. But she has. Twice.
Being sad to say goodbye to East Coast friends, but happy to feel the cool air when we step out of the buildings at SFO.Driving another 700 miles to retrieve the puppy from my Aunt Nancy’s in the Trinity Alps.
Watching said puppy and his four remaining sibs make quick work of a ground squirrel Aunt Nancy has just shot with a rifle. (Ground squirrels make holes that break the legs of cattle and are the bane of ranchers everywhere.) Boy, the West sure is different from the East! Swimming at Aunt Nancy’s reservoir. Diving off pier in shorts and t-shirt to look for towel that kids lost over edge of pier and are too chicken to retrieve. Failing to find towel. Hoping towel won’t be sucked into reservoir intake pipe that feeds the hay fields. The West is indeed different from the East.
Taking kids — Erin’s best friend Margaret is with us for most of August — boogie boarding at Stinson Beach.
Pondering how to get dog and cat hair off of the kids’ wetsuits.
Realizing that the New York vacation has re-booted my brain and my psyche. I feel ready to face work and career again after a year of being sick. Watch out world, here I come!