Got no deeds to do, no promises to keep...

I'm the first one to admit that I'm usually too busy. For better or for worse, my dance card is almost always full, and lately I've found I'm even planning when I'll do laundry -lest it never get done.

It's a work in progress - recognizing when I need to slow things down, when to say no for my own sanity, and how to keep my life in balance. Some weeks I do better than others.

Summers in the city can be tough for me. While I live a content urban life - schlepping along the pavement to and from T stops, dealing with commutes and meetings and business trips and traffic and new restaurants and museums and grand adventures in the metropolis, I'm also a girl who craves this:

And this:

With a dash of this:

Sometimes I think life is easier for those of us that are purely city people or solely prefer the country. Me? I appreciate and see the beauty in both, and truly enjoy getting a healthy, equal dose of each experience. You know how that expression goes - you can move the girl into the city, but you can't take the country out of the girl. (Or something like that...)

I spent the past weekend in Vermont at a friend's family cabin. We rose early each morning, sipped hot coffee while sitting on the porch and admiring the view, went for long walks, dove into the lake for late morning swims, grilled plenty of food, took naps, played card games, wandered back into the lake for an afternoon swim, soaked up the sunshine, ate more food, and sat around campfires.

I play the urban role as well as any of them. Whenever my Dad comes up to visit me in Boston, he'll note the number of wailing sirens we hear, coming from fire trucks, ambulances, or police cars. His comments always make me realize that I barely even notice the sirens anymore, that dead silence and quiet comes only when I visit him in New Jersey or head far outside the city limits.

Yet the summers I knew growing up is how I imagine life should be for three months out of the year. There was horseback riding and swimming in pools or day trips to the beach or adventures at an amusement park. Mom's potato salad and fried chicken was a constant on the dinner rotation, my brother and I never seemed too tired to start up a neighborhood baseball game. There's a reason why I can't start eating blueberries without finishing an entire pint in one sitting - those Jersey blueberries have been coursing through my veins for as long as I've been able to walk.

I realize we all need to grow up and earn a living and pound the pavement as adults. I get that. But I'd like to find a way to slow things down for a few months out of the year, to ease myself into the lazy, hazy days of summer more often, to take a break from the city now and again, and appreciate a few of the things that make me happiest in life.