Good afternoon, Wednesday. It started out as a nice day, but now there's word of storms a brewin' this afternoon. Hopefully it happens just in time for rush hour. Fail.
I've been thinking all day about these crazy coyote sightings happening in Manhattan, the Bronx, and other east coast cities like Philly. I'm not sure what it means or why they are here, but the NY Times says they are not going anywhere. I'm getting super "Escape from New York" vibes from those guys. I'm not going to mess with them, and hopefully they won't mess with me. Not something I'd ever envision as a die hard city dweller, but life is funny that way.
So as you know, I went up to Woodstock last weekend and had a lovely time. In typical David and Sheri form, we immediately decided we should look at real estate there, because that's what old people do.
So as we glanced at one of the realty windows in town, we felt a pull towards a lovely old property in an "up and coming" area and went inside to investigate. We met a lovely woman, a former New York City power babe who lived at 7 Park Avenue for years and found her dreams in Phoenicia, NY. After working like a "dog" for 40 something years. Her and her husband, who was in market research, hightailed it upstate and enjoy happy hour cocktails and al fresco grilling and all of that good stuff. That's about right.
She then mentioned a great summer rental- super duper affordable and in Phoenicia, a nice little town that has an eccentric energy and a pretty amazing fancypants diner we fell in love with. We decided to have a look on our last day in town. The place was pretty cool- across the street from the local swimming hole (I have never been in one of those by the way) and although the house was pretty no frills, the grounds were really nice with a big yard with a rolling hill and plenty of room for those aforementioned cocktails and barbecues. But then our realtor got real. And that's when the theme song from "Green Acres" went on repeat in my head. (You can probably guess which part of the song I was singing the loudest).
First, she mentioned that although it's cool to have a little dog on the property, we were never, under any circumstances, to leave him unattended or off leash. The reason? The hawks. The hawks could swoop down and scoop up my precious furbaby. Not on my watch.
Second, the bears. The bears that basically devour everything imaginable, so one can not even leave a pumpkin seed outside. I'm not that into bears.
Third, beware getting pulled under the swimming hole. By rocks or whatever. Many have drowned this way, she said. I suspect many more will in the very near future. Guess who's not going to be one of them? ME.
Yes, I know I'm paranoid. But I've worked pretty hard to be peaceful and less of a female Woody Allen, and I suspect that country life would turn me into a complete basket case. There is no small part of me that is a pioneer woman, and though I enjoy the fresh mountain air and good country vibes, the thought of fending off bears, hawks, or ominous rocks holds very little appeal. I am just not a country mouse. Full stop.
I'll say that I would very happily visit at any time of year, and be a fabulous weekend guest and make everyone s'mores and partake in some mountain activities. I'm just not sure country life is something I'd be willing to pursue all summer, and certainly not all year. There's always Montauk. I'm way more beach girl than mountain girl. Cause that's what's up this wondering about coyotes in the Hamptons kind of Wednesday in the wilds of Manhattan. Yours, in what Eva Gabor said. XO