When September Ends

Whenever this time of year rolls around, I want to make a big change in my life. I’m guessing it comes from years of going back to school in September after a glorious summer off. My body, my psyche, is conditioned to change. The trip to FL, albeit brief, satiated my hunger slightly. And the fact that the sun is pouring in my window right now helps curb my need to move on.

But, the truth is, I have wanderlust. I was born with it. My godmother, who was my father’s sister, was a world traveler in the era when it was much more expensive to travel than it is today. And my maternal grandmother picked up and traveled to Europe as a young nurse which was then unheard of in her family. Neither of these women came from money; they just had traveling souls. I definitely inherited that gene from both sides.

In direct contrast to my desire to pick up and move all the time, I want to put down roots everywhere. Experience everything. And I’m not just talking about my desire to travel to Thailand or learn to surf in Costa Rica. I’m talking about living in every cute neighborhood in Rochester or tiny town in the countryside. It drives my mother crazy.

“You want to live everywhere you go.”

I want to watch my husband thrive in the Austin music scene. I want to breathe in the crisp Maine air every morning. I want to wake up and swim in the warm FL ocean waters. I want to live in an old home, with architectural integrity, on Park Ave. in Rochester and walk to local restaurants. I want to live on Gramercy Park and sit on a park bench in the afternoon and read. I want summers in Quogue. Or the south of France. And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

But, for now, my kids are happy and surrounded by friends and my hubby is playing with a number of fun, local bands. So I have to remind myself that I actually have roots here and enjoy the evening chill as we sit around the fire pit drinking wine with our neighbors.