Freedom in the park

Saturday mornings in Prospect Park, the dogs run free.

Let's all find the utter joy in being free.

Lucky number 42

I’ve always known I’m lucky. And I knew 42 was going to be a good year. The first hours of my birthday confirmed both.

I woke up to the sweet embrace of my husband and the 4-week-old grunts of my sweet daughter. Then I got to hop in the shower before mothering duties beckoned.

When I came out to the living room, it was like Christmas morning. Andrew had gotten pretzel croissants (and chocolate chip cookies for later!) from City Bakery and warmed them up in the oven. That alone made my day.

But then there were gifts. Cards (yep, Parker got me a birthday card, too). More love and weepy moments.

It’s been my middle-aged, modern version of this:

My Vegan Tuesday

I didn’t do Vegan Monday yesterday. It was Labor Day and we were in Pennsylvania and every time I’m not at home, in my routine, I forget all about it. By 9 a.m., I had already had cream in my coffee, homemade yogurt, plus all the dairy in my delectable muffin and scone. (I’m loving this “eating for two” business.)

But that’s what happens when you stay at a nice country inn that has a great restaurant and bakery. You linger over the morning paper with a beautiful breakfast.

You linger on the porch with a beautiful man.

You linger in the fields under beautiful sunshine.

It was a beautiful weekend. And today, it was back to a summery hot reality in the city. So I treated Tuesday like Monday and ate more piously.

Morning

Coffee with almond milk

Overnight oats with blueberries

Mixed nuts

Afternoon

“Deep dish pie” from Lifethyme – a layered concoction of veg and quinoa. Delicious

Grapes

Chocolate

More nuts

Evening

Peanut butter and jelly

Summer's setting sun

Summer always seems to pass to fast. Until you look back and realize all the beautiful little moments you've had.

Like traipses through the park.

Rooftop drinks and concerts in the park.

Baseball! The minor leagues and the real deal.

Lobster rolls and DQ in Connecticut.

Daydreaming in bed.

Oh yeah, getting married and going on your honeymoon.

So it's Labor Day weekend. Seize summer's last days! Let loose! Act like a kid! Have fun! xo

Snapshot from Paris

A beautiful reminder from my previous chapter. Happy days.

Summer atop the Met

Summer, summer, summer. The most glorious season of them all. This summer has been especially sublime. It rained on the Fourth of July, but otherwise it's been pitch-perfect: Warm, sunny days. Late sunsets and fireflies, which I can see outside my apartment windows. Lots of opportunities to eat ice cream.

As the weeks count down to having a baby (Three months away! And I'm at the point where I look at my belly and find it hard to believe that it can still grow and stretch for three more months. It's becoming uncomfortable, sometimes painful. But everything is still going really well, all healthy and normal, so no complaints.), Andrew and I are ticking things off our 'pre-baby-bucket-list.' Dinners, plays, travels, concerts, hikes... stuff we know will be more difficult to do. 

Last night, we met at the Met's rooftop terrace, which I had never in my 13 years of living in New York (well, 11, minus the two in Paris) been to. It was awesome!

Such views.

Such a beautiful evening, with dramatic lighting. I remember evenings in Paris with these kind of spellbinding bolts of light from above.

We grabbed a spot on the astroturf and admired the fashions, enjoyed the setting sun, and had a drink before part two of our delicious night: dinner at Alimentari e Vineri, a longtime favorite.

Nothing has really changed in our relationship. Sometimes I still call Andrew "my boyfriend" out of habit. And when I say "husband" or think of him that way, it just makes me smile. It's so funny: I have a husband. 

Whatever I call him, I just look at him and smile: so handsome and charming and wonderful and easy to be around.

Rooftops of Paris

So wonderfully, magically, perfectly transportive.

My little Parisian fix

A week in Paris, in April. Pas mal.

It had been well over a year since I had been in the City of Light (and Dark Chocolate). Oh, how nice it was to be back.

 The markets…

The architecture...

The long, meandering walks and heart-pumping Velib rides...

 

The sweets!

Nope, no shame in overindulging in sweets.

I don’t know when I’ll get back to Paris again. Maybe sooner than expected. But it might also be longer than I want. For now, I’m still riding the high from everything I saw, tasted, felt and marveled at during that lovely week in Paris.