There's also something about arriving at your aunt's lake house after midnight on a Friday with two adults and three dogs making a ruckus and being greeted with open arms.
There's something about spending time in a beautiful place with people you love, whether you're doing things together or just doing things separately in the same space.
There's something about a meal outside, where the steaks are reminiscent of the Old 96er and the grilled corn makes you want to eat it off the cob even though you never do that.
There's definitely something about taking eleventy billion photos of your dogs without anyone judging you. They take them for you instead.
Not to mention the reading of books and magazines, the snack spreads, the gelato, the swimming, the lounging, and the sitting by the water, the breeze skimming over limbs heavy and full of a drowsy summer afternoon...there is indeed something glorious about all of those things.
Then there is Sunday night, when you arrive home after battling traffic on the Northeast extension, and your husband goes to work and your dogs pass out snoring and you're left alone with the Sunday night blues and the brownies you brought home, which you eat for dinner instead of the buffalo chicken pasta salad you whipped together at 7 p.m.
There's also being grateful in hindsight that you left after 9 p.m. instead of 7 p.m. on Friday, because you got to do your weights, change your sheets, wash your towels, write a few blog posts, process your iced coffee in bulk, and paint your nails in Essie Madison Ave-hue, which Lori also did that night, three hours north. Kismet, no?
It was weird to write this blog post without using the first person. Try it. It's weird.
I can't sign off without wishing my great friend Jill a fabulous 30th birthday today. Cheers girlfriend! xoxo
What about you? Did you get any peace and quiet?
I can't sign off without wishing my great friend Jill a fabulous 30th birthday today. Cheers girlfriend! xoxo
What about you? Did you get any peace and quiet?