View of Manhattan from Brooklyn Flea Market
When Friday dawns, we are both so glad to wipe the week’s sweat off our brow and settle into the expanse of the weekend. It’s a time of endless opportunity. A time to stroll to our favorite neighborhood brunch spot and refill the larder with Manhattan’s abundant, unique delicacies. Life seems so rich, unstructured and open for adventure.
It’s also a time to fight. Oh yeah.
Because, despite it all, we are still individuals who have slightly different concepts of what an ideal Saturday should be.
My Ideal Saturday
Pop up at 7:30am to the magical sound of the sleeping city. Put on a pot of coffee and venture to the front door to gather the weekend edition of the New York Times. Hubby wakes up a bit later and meets me in the living room for side-by-side reading and talk of the day ahead. New York’s news, neighborhood doings (any gossip? Love it!), and deep musing into the future of career, family, and any fantasy punctuate the crisp black and white perfection of my ideal Saturday morning.
His Ideal Saturday
Wake up whenever his body is healed and rejuvenated from the arduous week. 6am or 11am, what does it matter? Roll around, yawn, lull in and out of sleep, stretch, sigh, move one leg, find glasses, find me. He’s up and a happy camper! The day ahead? Whatever we want!
What do we want? Do we want to kick around on our own, thinking and doing things in proximity yet separately? Or do we want to walk the city in sync, enmeshed within the other? Neither one knows exactly what the other wants or needs at that very moment.
It changes. We change.
Ah yes, we’ve changed since day one of our marriage, we changed yesterday and we will be changing tomorrow.
I now let him sleep in (sometimes) and, well, he refills my cup of coffee while I read the paper. I know – he’s a great guy. He also makes the best oatmeal pancakes and that is one thing we both adore!
Some weekend ways we crafted coupledom.
Saturday ~ Ventured to the preview of an auction of works on paper at Swann Galleries. Together we studied the prints and read the catalogs, trying to listen to and learn what the other finds meaningful and visually pleasing. If we were to one day start an art collection, what would it look like? Could we compromise, come to an agreement on aesthetic values?
Sunday ~ Hopped over to DUMBO’s waterfront for the Brooklyn Flea, a small market with an array of vintage clothing, ceramics, furniture, and other delightful odds and ends. It also boasts the sweetest, melt-in-your-mouth Connecticut Lobster roll (brushed with drawn butter, not mayo) that both of us have ever laid claws on. And, get a load of those pizza margheritas handcrafted on the spot in that elegant pizza oven!
Moto Pizza's ornate, mobile wood burning oven
Succulent lobster roll from Red Hook Lobster Pound
Sitting next to each other, lobster roll and warm slices in hand, we knew we had come to one understanding of what blissful coupledom could look, smell, and taste like.
What do you do?
