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Posts Tagged ‘New York’

Just breathe

I moved to Colorado fourteen years ago. The air is thinner here. Lighter. And I love it.

I love to have my windows open and truly dread winter when they are closed. On those days when the temperature reaches the 50’s, I release the old air and let in the new air.

In the heat of summer, my husband is always trying to have me close the windows during the heat of the day, but I would still rather have them open.

The boys and I visit my parents in New York every summer. Their house backs to a marsh. The air is oppressively heavy and thick. This summer the temperatures rose to over 100 degrees. My parents have central air conditioning and I hate it. They had it on the entire week we were there. Trying to beat the heat and humidity.

I don’t mind the air conditioning during the day. It’s the nighttime that is awful. Around 2 am the temperature outside is cooler. The air conditioning no longer goes on because the temperature has dropped. But my father insists we keep all the windows closed.

I toss and turn in my sleep, uncomfortable in the stuffy room. I feel as if I’m suffocating. I gasp for air like I did as an asthmatic child. Groggily I get out of bed. It’s so hot. I fumble through the dark and throw open all the windows in the room. The whoosh of fresh air washes over me. I crawl back to bed and sleep like a baby.

I count the minutes until I can return to Colorado. To dry air. To lighter air. To sleep with open windows and a fan. I may go to sleep without even a sheet, but by morning I am pulling the covers around me.

Fresh air.

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The inspiration for the post came from a post I read this morning about a woman’s relationship to the elements, Brea’s Air.

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One week every summer

I grew up 45 minutes from New York City. Every summer I bring my boys to visit my parents for a week. We usually venture into the Big Apple at least once during our stay to see a show or visit a museum. It’s just an easy train ride away. Today we saw the Gazillion Bubble Show (cute) and the Harry Potter exhibition (AMAZING). On Monday we are going to the Metropolitan Museum of Art (mostly because I love the book From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler).

These visits into the city always bring up conflicting thoughts. There is the part of me that would love to move back to the east coast and have access to all the wonderful cultural and culinary opportunities in New York City. But unless I lived somewhere in the Village or Brooklyn, I probably wouldn’t take advantage of these opportunities much more than I do now.

Then I think, could I actually live in NYC? I don’t know. I might feel at home immediately and never want to leave (I’d be one of those New Yorkers). Or I might love the excitement at first, but dream wistfully of the country as the novelty wore off. Or I might hate city life at first and grow to love it over time – adapt or die as my mother-in-law says. I guess I will never know. My husband has said he would never move to NYC. So one week every summer will have to suffice.

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