10 Days of Summer

I have spent the last 10 days alone -- no husband, no son, no job -- just me and my urban homestead.

It has been a long time since I’ve spent that many days by myself. In fact, it was most likely when I was in my 20s, working in downtown Chicago, that I've been alone for that long of a stretch. But even then, my life and my emotional needs were simple, and if I needed time for reflection, I could find solace during the quiet hours of my morning commute.

When these 10 days began, I established rules and boundaries to make the most of my time. I promised myself there would be no visits to Target (do I really need another thing from that store?), and almost no stops at the grocer. Instead, I shopped at the local bakery and ate food that was either in the house already or better yet, straight from my backyard. And yes, in the last 10 days, I have had almost every kind of egg imaginable – poached, fried, and scrambled – at all times of day. And I’ve also eaten countless cucumber and tomato basil sandwiches. Believe me, I’m not complaining. The meals have been divine.

I also promised myself that I would step outside my comfort zone. I attended an evening baseball game with a group of local professionals that I’ve never met, and last Saturday, I ventured some 30 miles away from my home so I could learn the nuts and bolts of preserving food. I also dined with a small group of women from all walks of life – actresses, chefs, producers, and me, an urban homesteader – just so I could get closer to reinventing myself as someone other than a mother and wife.

It was been a wonderful 10 days, and I’ve missed my boys. No doubt, I’m ready for them to come home. But then again, I’ve missed myself too. Let’s hope that I’m not gone for that long again.