indulgence

Kathy is in London.  The only good thing about her going to London is that I have some rare time alone in our house.  Except that this trip, A came down with a cold right before Kathy left, and was by my side for the first two days that Kathy was gone.  Yesterday, she didn't seem all that sick, actually, considering that she did yoga, baked cookies, and went to the library.  With that, Kathy said, "Send her to school, have a day to yourself to do whatever you want."  So I gave myself permission for a day to myself, doing whatever I wanted.  And taking pictures of it.

With a love of solitude bordering on misanthropy, I could not wait to spend the day alone.  It wasn't so much what I did that was the indulgence, it was the company.  As in, none.

First, I made myself a real breakfast -- which oddly included eggs, which I ordinarily don't like much. 

farmers market

I've been trying to make my small Westchester town home, and one thing that helps with that is to get involved in all that the community has to offer.  This week, I visited the farmers market in the next town over -- in the pouring rain.  I was worried it would be closed or cancelled, but although the vendors seemed a little sparse, there it was.  I had to choose in a hurry, because I was getting soaked, so I didn't comparison shop or anything like that.  I just grabbed what looked good. 

Here's what $10 got me (still shiny from the rain):

That is:  a bunch of celery, 4 big carrots, a basket of onions, 2 apples, 2 tomatoes, a head of garlic, and a pepper.  The best bargain was that pepper, at just $.18, while the 2 tomatoes were probably the worst deal, at $2.70 (more than all 8 onions).

I'll definitely be back next week - hopefully with drier shopping conditions.

vernal equinox

(B, holding our spinach seeds in the sunshine)

I've been so jealous of all the spring photos posted by other bloggers over the last couple of weeks.  Last week we saw the first signs that spring is really on the way.  We had warm, sunny weather.  I spent Saturday cleaning all the autumn out of our flower beds.  I was delighted to discover that the daffodils and tulips were actually a good way up once I cleared the dead leaves away.  We spent most of the day outside.

Then, yesterday, on the first official day of Spring, I planted spinach with B and C, hoping it can withstand any remaining chilly weather of the season. 

Today, it snowed the whole way into work, and actually started accumulating out in the suburbs.  I really must learn to start respecting the weatherman.

hi, want to be friends?

(from this flikr photostream)

I have talked before about how important I think it is to have a regular date night to sustain a healthy relationship.  Time together alone is essential to work through your issues, talk about your problems, hopes, and dreams, and do other things that can be little awkward with other people around (if you know what I mean).  But there is something else that I think is essential to a relationship.  And that other essential thing is friendship.  With other people.  Not as a couple.

This one is much harder for me than staking out time alone with Kathy.  This week, while Kathy was in London, would have been a good time for seeing my friends.  Except that I had a stomach bug over the weekend that had not quite worked its way through my system, so I cancelled a cardio class I was supposed to go to with a friend from law school.  I had dinner with my sister on Tuesday night (yes, she counts as a friend in my book), but again cut it shorter than I would have liked because I kind of felt like crap.  Then, Wednesday rolled around.  It was supposed to be a rescheduled friend-date with the law school friend from Monday, but the weather hit and I was trapped in the house all day.  Blah.  A whole week of Kathylessness, and I only got to see one friend.

Making friends is not, and never has been, the easiest thing for me.  I can be outgoing, and I do talk kind of a lot.  But that doesn't mean that interactions with people I don't know well are easy for me (they're not) and, frankly, I am kind of picky about who I will create a friendship with.  I am one of those people who would rather have a few close friends than many not-so-close friends.  If you're only going to have a few friends, it makes sense that you would want them to be people you thoroughly enjoy, right?  Everyone has people in their life that they like "only in small doses."  To me, that kind of feels like a waste of time.  If I only like someone in small doses, I don't really like them that much, do I?  Why, then, would I waste my time creating a relationship with a person I don't like that much?  Perhaps that is a bit harsh, but it's really how I feel about it.  So, to all my friends out there reading this, Hi, I like you a lot.  :-)

square

(istockphoto)

I love living in our small town.  I think it's apparent to anyone who reads this blog that I do.  I also love having kids in my life (especially A, B, and C, Kathy's kids).  I love living with Kathy.  I love doing things around the house, I love cooking, I love books.  I do not love crowded bars, nightclubs, or general admission concerts.  I don't like the city, and I don't like hipsters (sorry, but I don't, being around them makes me all nervous and self-conscious.  It's why I won't go to Williamsburg).  I like turtlenecks.  I don't like loud music, other than in the car.  I know myself pretty well.  Why, then, do I have a hard time surrendering to who I really am? 

When I was younger, I used to chirp to my parents all the time about how I wanted to live in a city.  I said it so much that I started to believe it.  Specifically, I wanted to live in San Francisco.  My sister said the same thing (only failed to name her city.  Sister, you lose points for specificity).  I talked about how wasteful it was to commute by car, when mass transit would be available if only you lived in the city.  I talked about how selfish it was for people to want their own little plot of land (to do what in, I asked my parents).  I mean really, you can walk one block and throw the ball in the park, right?  And community gardens, people! 

I also used to say that it's really important to be single, so you can find yourself and really know yourself before committing to a long-term relationship.  I glorified the idea of single-dom.  All those friends I would have, all the late nights at bars talking about interesting things (and, no doubt, complaining about the losers in the dating world).  All the lovers, with no strings attached.  The freedom of it all. 

Date Night: Tuckahoe

Tuesday night is our date night, every week (whoops, this is a day late).  It's the only night we consistently do not have the kids, and it allows us to spend time with friends on the weekends if we want to.  Lately, we have been trying to explore different Westchester towns, in an attempt to feel a bit more like part of our community.  This week, we went to the Tap House in Tuckahoe.

(Tap House, and me, blurry.  These pictures were taken on the iPhone, which does not have a flash. 

We have a camera, but it's a pain to hook up to the computer, so the iPhone is the default.

Could they make a digital camera that has email capability?  If they make one, could I have one please?  Thanks.) 

     (Tuckahoe, through the windshield of the car)

First of all, doesn't Tuckahoe sound like it should be a ski resort in Canada, not a town just outside of New York City?  When we were trying to pick our restaurant, Kathy said, "Where's Tuckahoe?"  I responded "Up North"* without even thinking about it or actually knowing the answer.  Turns out it's about 15 minutes or so away from our house.  Whoops.


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*FYI for you non-Michigan types.  "Up North" is how people refer to any part of the state north of Lansing.  It encompasses most of the Lower Penninsula and all of the Upper Peninsula, and probably could be used to describe northern Wisconsin, Canada, Alaska, and the Arctic Circle.