(Said in a Greta Garbo voice, pronouncing want vant.)
As I sat on the train heading south to Hudson on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, I considered my decision to take the trip solo. I had made two attempts to find a companion for the day, but didn’t find a taker. No worries whatsoever. I’d been thinking about this little adventure for some time and today was the ideal day to enjoy a little time out of town.
I’m so glad I’m not reluctant to explore the world on my own. I have no problem grabbing my wallet, a bottle of water and a camera and taking to the road. Doing things by myself isn’t an inferior experience, it’s just a different one. I like being with me.
I know I’m perceived as an extremely social person, working jobs that require lots of personality and interaction, but that doesn’t mean that I am incapable of going it alone. Spending time with other people is enjoyable because people are interesting and fun. But, so am I!
I’m interested in living a full life, fashioning an existence where beauty is embraced and experiences are curated. Waiting around for someone to accompany me on my explorations isn’t even a consideration. There’s just too damn much to see, to taste and to experience. Alone is not a bad thing – especially when there are two oysters and you get to eat them both.
I’ve worked on Lark Street between Spring and State Streets for nearly 13 years. That’s like a third of my life (+10).
My head has so many ideas racing around. I really want to make Lark + Lily the kind of place I’ve always looked to frequent – comfortable, consistent, warm, not overly serious.
That kind of sounds like me, doesn’t it?
I don’t have an aesthetic as much as I have an energy.
Making the transition from watching OITNB to Girls, Season 1 has been…. interesting.
As I become more involved in restaurant matters, I find myself culling other areas of my life. I don’t have time for things which make me feel weighed down. Those unmatched socks and that pile of mending to be gone – one way or another.
Sometimes when I run with Jeter I worry that he’s going to have a heart attack. That being said, I haven’t run much this month. Between the bugs on vacation and the heat and humidity of this recent hot spell, I’m just not feeling it. I miss it.
Speaking of the weather, when its this hot all I am interested in eating is plain Greek yogurt with fruit and granola and Caprese. And ice cream , of course.
I never, ever imagined I would own a business. It’s crazy exciting.
I can’t wait to share some of the things I’ve got planned. It’s going to be fun.
As I raced to the beach to catch the impending sunset, I couldn’t help but smile. This, I thought, is what I do. I chase beauty. Here’s a gallery of some of what I was fortunate enough to catch during my recent Wellfleet vacation.
One last thought – while the sky was magnificent to observe as the sun slipped down and away, the most stunning moments were those of the afterglow. Truly understanding that almost makes the sunset foreplay for what comes next.
It seems to me that people exert power in different ways. Some, control those in their lives by their weakness, manipulating others to do what they need done by demonstrating their own inability to manage life. Maybe they’re frequently sick or suffering from some vague, undiagnosable illness forcing prompting their family and friends to constantly attend to their needs. Perhaps they have a history of irresponsibility (financial, practical, whatever) and have become accustomed to being bailed out of trying situations.
Regardless of specifics, they’ve been conditioned to expect to be rescued when they are in challenging circumstances and have successfully mastered manipulating those around them. Their lack of capability has in fact become their greatest strength.
I have no patience or tolerance for people like this, even when I try to be empathetic. I’m sorry. We all have different histories and patterns of behavior are certainly created in childhood. I understand that, yet adults who refuse to acknowledge their responsibility for the condition that is known as their life repel me like kryptonite.
In the quiet of the morning I have the house to myself. The trees sway a bit and occasionally the tremendous wind chimes toll their gorgeous and deep notes. It’s peaceful and I find myself, rather than imagining the day’s activities, reflecting upon all the years we’ve been fortunate enough to spend time in this beautiful place.
For seventeen summers we’ve been coming to Cape Cod. My children don’t recall a single summer of their lives when they did not spend some amount of time at the beach. Their growth from infants covered and protected from the sun to young boys slathered in sunscreen sporting (hopefully) life-preserving vests to almost men itching to drive has been breathtaking. I wish I could remember more of the early days, but the memories which do remain are vivid and never fail to elicit a smile. They were exhausting, but good days.
As the children have grown at a furious rate of speed the overall pace of our vacation has decreased. No longer is it necessary to pack multiple bags and coolers in an attempt to anticipate every single need imaginable. Life here has become simple in a new, now more easily appreciated way.
Moving forward isn’t always easy, though. Growth and change can be intimidating and there are scary parts to negotiate as we travel from who we once were to who we are destined to become. And now, over the quiet gong of the wind chimes, I hear feet slap the wood floor. Time to share the day.
Photo: Jessica Kelly
Tonight we laughed under a sky filled with shadows and ever changing bands of purple and fuchsia. As the sun set in the west, I waded through the tide to reach the bridge so I could witness (and cheer on) the daredevil feats of 4 boys. It was a magical evening.
The wind was wet and warm driving away the pesky green headed flies and allowing the guys to jump “one more time” again and again. I thought about their boldness and admired their nerve. It gets harder as we age to take leaps into the quasi darkness.
We’re approaching a second full moon for the month of July, a blue moon, and the waters are responding by becoming deeper at high tide. On our little slice of heaven the road leading to the bridge becomes unpassable, prompting a sense of isolation which can leave us feeling comforted or detached. Or maybe both.
The water, though, will recede and our path will again be revealed. And, of course, despite tonight’s fascination with the colors of the setting of the sun, the sun will also rise.
- Having no idea whatsoever of the time.
- A margarita – and then another one.
- Donuts with breakfast and chips with lunch.
- Classic board games.
- Ordering your afternoon like this: walk – nap – run – shower – wine.
- Another load of towels in the washing machine.
- A layer of stickiness that can only be created by salty air, sand and sunscreen.
- Eating off of paper plates and out of Rubbermaid containers.
- Finding a temporary new rhythm that is decidedly a bit off beat.