Read an Excerpt

introduction

I’m madly in love with summer and the feelings it evokes—the carefree spirit of freedom and adventure that fall, winter, and spring simply don’t provide. Summer entices us to lose our inhibitions, to have fun, to be curious, and to seek adventure. We are joyous upon its arrival in June and bittersweet as it fades into September. Summer is fabulous, but fleeting.

I’ve had the good fortune to spend many summers in places other than my “real” home. As a child, my family spent the season in an old beach bungalow on the Jersey shore. Looking back, it seems to me that we spent every waking moment outdoors— at the beach during the day, kite flying after dinner, at miniature golf or on the boardwalk in the evening. In the early mornings, my father—whom I’ve never seen happier than when he has a fishing pole or crab net in his hands—would bring us to the pier, where we’d drop the crab nets into inky waters, ever impatient to pull them up and see what we caught. Hours later, we’d return home with buckets of blue crabs, which my mother would magically turn into a delicious crab salad. My mom loves to tell the Annie Hall–esque story of the wily crab that went on the lam across our kitchen floor, eventually finding safe refuge behind the stove. Alas, his freedom didn’t last for long; after much bedlam, my parents somehow managed to extract him from his hideaway and get him into the steamer pot.

As a young woman, I frequently spent summer weekends with family friends in their fabulous home nestled in the woods of Martha’s Vineyard. We’d wake up at sunrise and cook pancakes and sausages outside on the grill, then head off to the beach, where we’d spend hours combing the sand for sharks’ teeth, shells, and beach glass. On special evenings, we’d drive their jalopy—a 1969 Dodge Dart—to Menemsha, where we’d crack open freshly cooked lobsters and watch the sun set. What wonderful, effortless days those were.

My passion for the outdoors led me to Maine, where I summered for many years on a quiet cove in ruggedly beautiful Bar Harbor. Down East I braved frigid waters, hiked endless wooded paths, and biked along meandering carriage trails shaded by an awning of pines. Exhausted from whatever the day’s activities were, I’d reward myself with a hearty lobster roll or a bucket of steamers, then drift off to sleep to the rhythmic sound of the ocean.

Lest you think I’m only content breathing in salt air, rest assured that I equally adore the clean, pure scent of fresh water. My love affair with lakes began at a friend’s cabin in the Adirondacks. A natural gathering spot on long weekends, we’d paddle canoes, water-ski behind a balky old powerboat, drift aimlessly on a pontoon, or lounge on fat tire tubes. After years spent on the ocean, the lakefront lifestyle was a delightful new experience of slithering fish, slippery green rocks, and no undercurrents. As quaint as it might seem, at day’s end we’d all gather around a campfire to roast marshmallows, talk, and laugh deep into the night, heading to bed in the wee hours, smelling of smoke.

Of course, being a New Yorker, I can’t dismiss my summers in the city; just because I love the outdoors doesn’t mean I don’t equally love watching the sun set over the Hudson from a Manhattan terrace while sipping a glass of good champagne. My friends Christophe and Léa throw the most wonderful parties on the roof of their downtown apartment building. There’s always a fashionable and cosmopolitan crowd, and most times I forget the hour and have to race like Cinderella to Grand Central to catch the last train back home.

I’m married now, and my husband and I spend our summers along the perpetually sunny coast of South Carolina. Everything moves at a slower pace there, and we’re no exception. As a rule, we do nothing more ambitious than shell-seeking, biking along the beach, sea kayaking, and making an occasional stop at a nearby beach bar for a refreshing frozen cocktail. It was on one of these vacations, on a stretch of endless white sand on Hilton Head Island, that I began thinking deeply about all the things I love about summer. I realized that if sheer pleasure makes for expertise, then few are more qualified than I am to write on the essence and the spirit of the season.

On these pages, you’ll find ideas for living life to the fullest in the summer months. I’ve included all of the crafts, recipes, music, and games that I personally look forward to each year—plus I’ve thrown in practical how-to’s and a hefty dose of nostalgia to conjure up days past. It’s my hope that this book will inspire all of you to embrace the carefree warm-weather lifestyle wherever you might be and whatever the season—after all, summer is not just a time of year, but a state of mind.