My Home in the Catskills

Since last Tuesday, Dan and I have assumed the role of doting innkeepers at Catskill Lodge, the bed and breakfast in Windham, New York, that we co-own with Dan's brothers. (The front-porch photo above was taken on our wedding day last September.) While I have to admit that after six days of egg-frying, pancake-flipping, and laundry, we're ready to be free of the chores that come with a seven-room house filled with guests—we both share a great love for this place. Built in 1893 and filled with furniture and decorations that span the last century, it's homey, charming, and absolutely unique. And while the role of host naturally comes with early mornings and endless housekeeping, it also gives us a chance to meet new people and explore the breathtaking natural landscape. In the last seven days we've chatted with folks from as far away as Belgium and China, picked produce and prepared meals from the garden, and sparked up a bonfire in the backyard every single night. Then there's the comforting, unplanned moments—like watching an eight-year-old's eyes light up with excitement in front of the crackling campfire, or Dan stopping in the middle of his chores to play a song on the antique piano. Of course, we've also had our share of adventure vacation activities, from floating the Esopus River to scaling a 3800-foot peak. The two of us met here. And then we got married here. Now we're just soakin' it all in...

My NYC Find

Blame it on the fact that I lived there for seven years—sometimes I've just got an eye on the businesses and services people who live in New York actually use rather than the effortless glitz the city portrays to outsiders. On my last visit to NYC (two weeks ago), I was drawn in by the gleaming wide windows of a sparkling new Duane Reade drugstore on 39th and Madison. The store sports a complete redesign—the antithesis of what drugstore shoppers assume about the omnipresent pharmacy and toiletries market. Rather than flickering florescent lighting and disgruntled employees, the space exudes a Sephora-like aesthetic, right down to an entire section devoted to pricey makeup. The only shopping spree I had while in the city happened right here...

New York, New York

This week is the first time I've been back to New York since the move, and I spent yesterday wandering around Manhattan by myself. I had no place to be except for on the streets, and, for the first time since I moved to the city seven years ago, I felt like an outsider. With no apartment to go home to and no desk to sit behind, I really had no purpose. And because I wasn't distracted by all life's goings-on, I could finally see the city from the outside. The feeling of being here knowing that this place is no longer home is powerful. It's freedom; it's sadness. Every street I walked, every etablishment I entered held a memory. I watched the flurries of people crisscrossing paths in front of me, all hurrying to get to that place they were supposed to be, while I sat there with nothing to do but take it all in. Thing is, when you are one of those scurrying bodies, you long for the moments when you can sit back, relax, and have no plans. Most of the time, those moments are pretty good too.