my rural retreat

i spent the weekend alone, in what i refer to my country home, recharging, relaxing and reading harry potter #6 by the pool. (more on that later) with my parents and brothers trekking off to my grandparents' house in north carolina without me i was left to my own devices in that big house in north stamford, with only a few things required of me: feed the cats, water the plants, clean the pool filters, get the mail, leave no trace.

i started my solitary retreat on friday night, leaving new york on a 6:30 train. with no one to pick me up from the train station, i was forced to take a $30 cab ride home.

no matter how many cab rides i have taken in my life, i always find stamford cabs to be amoung the sketchiest. i climbed into a decript looking sedan and was glad it was just me, since the driver had his seat all the way back leaving little room for more than one passenger. he was talking his cell phone while i told him the destination, which is probably why he had no clue where we were going and it took twice as long to get there.

not surprisingly, half way through our ride he started to tell me his life story. he was from the dominican republic. from what i could gather he was born here and shipped back to the island later in life. in high school he got a girl pregnant. he owned his first businesses, a pool hall and a dry cleaner, when he was a teenager. he spent some time in jail and is not on parole. judging from the length of his pinky finger nails, i figured his jail term was drug related.

eventually i got home, only a little worse for wear and only slightly worried that the cab driver would map out the way to my house on his way back to town and send dominican thugs to come rob me later in the weekend. thankfully, my parents live in the middle of nowhere.

the cats found me right away. although they hadn't made a dent in the three bowls of food that my parents had left them the night before, they were just happy to see a person i think. they get lonely, and i think the little one goes on hunger strike when we leave her alone.

after petting the cats and checking the answering machine, i set to raiding the fridge. some reheated risotto and half a bottle of wine later, i was ready for bed. i was exhausted just from the trip up there. i spent the night in my parents' bed for the practical reason that the room is in the corner of the house and i could barricade myself in there if i heard someone break in downstairs and needed to escape. plus there is a bathroom. it made sense to me when i first started spending time alone in the house in high school...so i still do it to this day.

sleeping in my parents bed helped me discovery my mom's copy of harry potter and the half-blood prince, which i started reading a few weekends ago because my mom had it out by the pool. i decided to pick up where i left off, and spent the rest of the weekend deeply entrenched in the wizarding world. i was the first harry potter book i've ever read, but i saw the movies so i could sort of understand what was going on.

other than reading, i spent my time going to the gym, shopping, laying out and cooking. i also watched some tv, but not as much as i would have if i hadn't found old harry. i felt very domesticated, grilling myself lunch and dinner, filling up the dishwasher, feeding the cats, doing laundry, setting up the sprinkler. i could get used to living a suburban life...i would just get bored if i had to do it alone.

ultimately, the weekend was a success. i got a tan, read a good book and managed to unwind. it was quiet and comforting at the same time, maybe that has something to do with being back in my childhood home.

but either way, it was a good break from reality. even if i wasn't at the beach.