If one can still be a cousin when separated by marriage and generations and entire sides of the family—and we’ve decided that the answer is yes, indeed—then we spent the weekend with cousins at their home in the Adirondacks.
For me, weekends like these are largely an exercise in toting a heavy camera up the side of the moutain, only to pull it out once. Still, here are a few little snaps to give a sense of the weekend and to log the experience in the old memory banks. Not that we really need a reminder of how good it feels to breathe in mountain air and eat under a sky full of stars that only gets more sparkly the longer you look into it.
Here, a little bit about about how we spent our time:
We ate woodfired pizza and barbecued dinners. By way of refreshment there were Adirdondack beers and bourbon-spiked lemonade with thick stems of rosemary and plenty of ice-cold water.
In the mornings there were fresh berries and strong coffee on the screened porch and the kind of philosophical musings that can only come from a cherubic three-year old. We took Faye on her first hikes and learned the finer points of scrambling up a mountain with a baby strapped to our chests and a toddler (or two) to entertain. We got our first taste of sock weather and rejoiced in getting to zip on our hoodies (all three). We huffed in the smell of goldenrod and juniper berries and other things that are hard to come by in the city. We lit candles and bonfires and didn’t care when our hair smelled like woodsmoke. Today, it’s a return to business as usual. The air is hot and sticky in the city but that’s not stopping us from sharpening our proverbial pencils and diving back to work feeling eternally grateful and utterly refreshed from a weekend away.