How Did You Summer?

School started yesterday and while there’s officially two more weeks of summer on the calendar, we made it to my favorite time of the year. Football season.

I love football season. And while I’ve had guilt about liking a game where guys have to run into each other with full force, I breathe a big sigh of relief when football season begins because we’ve finally made it to the “Sorry, we can’t, we’re busy” season and we are forced to stay home on Sundays. All day.

Wake up, go to the gym, come home. That’s it.

We get to chop, roast, make a big pot of something that will last a couple of days. Maybe do some art. Maybe some household projects from the to-do list. It’s my great excuse to be unavailable and maybe even sit on the couch for 6-7ish hours. (Although, who’s kidding who, I can’t possibly sit on the couch and watch two whole games back-to-back. But I can if I could.) And because we root for two different teams in our household, the best Sundays are when we have to watch the Bears at 1, Cowboys at 4. That’s a perfect Sunday. Because who can stay up all the way to the end of a Sunday night game, even when it’s a nail-biter, and ugh, Monday night games are just annoying. (I’m still ignoring that Thursday night games exist.)

And do you know why it’s such a big deal to have this excuse to be home?

Summer is hectic. Summer is fun, but summer is hectic.

Summer is when a lot of New Yorkers go to their beach houses or country houses or mountain houses. And since we don’t have a second home, heck we don’t even have a first home, we rent or visit friends’ houses with pools and nature. And while we love to be invited and look forward to making these plans, it’s a lot of packing and unpacking and feeling guilty about making a mess in other people’s homes and trying to stay overly neat and tidy in the spare room and guest bath.

It’s also a lot of headspace that starts days before the weekend. It’s the 752 visits to the extended forecast on the weather app to help decide the bare minimum of what clothes we might need. And are we lounging around? Are we going to adventure? What type of adventure? Are we going to a nice restaurant? Are we just grilling at home? Is there a sharp knife? Olive oil? Who’s bringing coffee? How far is a grocery store in case we forget something? Should we bring Can-Jam, games, the guitar? Do we need extra towels? What time are we going to leave, what time are we going to get there, and how are we going to try to avoid traffic?

It’s exhausting.

And then I think, "Is this what it would be like if we had this coveted ‘second house’ outside the city? Packing and unpacking every weekend?" If it is, I don’t want one. I know it’d be different because it would be our home with our sharp knives and olive oil so there’s less packing and unpacking, but it still occupies a lot of headspace. Did I leave that thing there or is it here? What is in the pantry? What did we leave in the fridge? Did we lock the patio door? And why didn’t we just leave our bodies there and stay?

What are we doing? If we live in the city, why is the New Yorker dream to have a house outside the city too? I mean, can’t we just take a vacation instead of all this back and forth? Is this really an unrecognized desire to not live in the city?

I’m one of those freaks who actually appreciates the city in the summer. I like packing a picnic and going to the beach. Walking home over the Williamsburg Bridge. Riding bikes to other neighborhoods. Reading a book on the roof with a cup of coffee. Taking the ferry to Governor’s Island. Taking the ferry to Dumbo to catch free shows from The Met Opera and the Philharmonic at Brooklyn Bridge Park, at sunset. Free outdoor concerts at SummerStage. Surprise [to us] neighborhood block parties. The plethora of our ginormous city pools. Driving over to City Island for lobster rolls, or just sitting under a tree at McGolrick Park while the kid tries to sell homemade bracelets to unsuspecting passersby. We’ll even take the kid to Coney Island.

But every spring, I make calls to friends, and, with friends, plan summer weekends out of the city. I'm a glutton for all of it.

So yay, it’s football season. And I’m home…for the season. At least on Sundays.

p.s. I just got an email from a farm upstate about apple picking...who's in for a Saturday?