Yesterday, my daughter and I spent the day in New York City. My husband took care of the horses, my mom and our old dog while I was gone. I love the city. It was my home for over 15 years, and it is one of the main reasons that we live in Connecticut. My daughter feels the same magnetic attraction to Manhattan that I do. When we go there and visit my friends, I love to share all my favorite haunts with her.
It was drizzling and icy as we wandered around. We ended up walking across Central Park West, where all the carriage horses stand waiting to take tourists into the Park. The horses were soaked and dirty, and my daughter’s heart went out to them. Although, she did tell me that she’d rather go uptown in a horse drawn carriage than a taxi or the subway. I insisted that we walk, and my feet are feeling the effects of that unforgiving concrete this morning.
My friend told me that in her building, which has rent control, an apartment that becomes available now rents for between $12,000 and $15,000 a month. How insane is that? I realized that as much as I still love New York City, I wouldn’t want to live there. I love waking up in the country, feeding the horses and hopping on the train to go to the city.
More important, at the end of the day, I am so glad to come home. Last night, it was very foggy. When I got out of the car, I announced to my husband that I was going to check on the horses. As they heard my voice, in the darkness, Silk neighed a greeting. “Good, Silkie really missed you,” he told me. As I rubbed my face against my horse’s nose and she murmured, “Nnnhhh, nnhhh, nnnhhh” to me, I knew I was in the right place.