Cities are useful places. I could never live in one, but that's why I have family and friends who do. Patrick playing a show in Philadelphia this weekend provided the perfect excuse to make a trip to see my sister- and brother-in-law's new house, and most of the rest of the family came along, too, for a fun weekend of doing things that Gilbertsville just doesn't have. Like walking crosswalks, and going to the ATM.
And eating at a hibachi place, and a tapas place, and a BYO brunch place where we emptied a magnum of champagne. Hey. Ok. I love my chickens and my rows of beets in the ground, and my big yard with the beautiful view, but I'm still a twenty-something (for two more months). I also like brunches with champagne.
My sis-in-law knew just where to bring me, too. Anthropologie. That was post-champagne, ahem. I don't know how long I was down there, trolling through the sale racks, but it felt like a lifetime. A dazzlingly beautiful lifetime. It was, in a word, nice.
This week is bringing us a hurricane, it would seem, which is almost a relief. I need to eat vegetables, and beans, and drink things like tea and more tea and no champagne. As much as I love it, there's no denying that lil' old rural me can't quite handle the fast and hard city life.
Though I sure do love it, every now and then, for a weekend at a time.
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