Mid-week, when I glanced at my calendar, I noticed a startling emptiness on Saturday. Astonishingly blank! Maybe it's that none of the kids is playing a sport this season or the stars aligned in a one-time-only position but it was all the encouragement I needed to dart down to NYC for the afternoon. Maddy came with me for a little m-d-o and we hit the Shake Shack and Central Park and then headed to the Village (I like to say that all hip and casual-like: just heading to the Village. Shall we meet in the Village?) to meet up with my sister and brother, who both live in Brooklyn.
Truth be told, that was the real reason I was hankering for a NY trip. It had been ages since I saw Chris and several months since I saw Nancy. I wanted to get a glimpse of their handsome faces and get/give some hugs. It was time. And I want to be a better, more there sister.
So we met in Washington Square and saw all the happy craziness there--the piano player and the hula hoop people and the mass hypnotism/meditation and the musician playing two trumpets at once and the other 5 musical acts busking--then found a nice little French cafe for linner. Hugs, check. Handsome faces, check. (Missing yours, though, Matt!)
Let's not dwell on the miserable return home, shall we? Well, maybe just a little: The colds that Maddy and I had both been ignoring attacked with a vengeance. We staggered north to our car, first walking, then taking the metro, then (after stopping for a red velvet Magnolia cupcake for Miss M, naturally) we succumbed to the siren call of the yellow cab. The drive home reminded me of this time, after another Nancy/Chris dinner: my eyes trying to make little bargains with my brain that my body can't keep. But we made it, huzzah! It was a jaunt worth the price of admission.
For those of you keeping score at home, that's two consecutive weekends of choosing fun over work. It reminds me of that wonderful Louise Plummer essay, Thoughts of a Grasshopper, reworking the grasshopper and the ant fable. I'm part ant/part grasshopper. It's just that my grasshopper ways are more fun. Tomorrow, back to ant-hood.
. . .