Squeaks, Squeals and Wine

Mouse, Marg, Jill and I. When we were 13 years old we used to eat our peanut butter cups and Delmonte puddings together every day. We stayed tight through high school and kept in touch as our lives took us all in different cities and in different directions.

Over the years the weave loosened but stayed intact; we saw each other less often and not all together. But we had our pipeline and the town we grew up in to keep us connected. In the past 12 years the only time the four of us were together in one place was at the funerals of our mothers. All four of us lost a parent within a two year period. Sadly Mouse's hubby passed from cancer six months ago, and once again we congregated. We decided that very day to meet in the summer on happier grounds to enjoy one another.

The happier grounds was our cottage. We finagled our work schedules, made child care arrangements, and cleared our calendars to make it happen. We did, and it did not disappoint.

The worries about snakes and spiders was for naught HOWEVER my inherent dislike for mice was tested to the max! They seemed to pop out all over the darn place. We shrieked! We chased! We cornered and captured - and we split our guts laughing. And by the time I slipped my foot into my weathered TOMS to feel find a mouse sleeping in the toe, I was done - immune - depleted and over my phobia!

The girls and I spent a whole day dockside comparing spider veins where the heck did they come from?, reassuring one another that we'd come a long way, rehashing juicy stories from our teens years, comparing notes on raising daughters (we all have girls) and generally exhausting the goodness out of our absolutely perfect summer's day together. Marg said the weather was heaven sent and that our deceased loved ones ordered it so we could have some special time together. Lovely thought. 

All I know is that when I listen to Marg tell a funny story complete with full on imitations and hear her laugh as only she can, it is the voice of my teenaged friend I hear. When I look into the tiny face of my dear friend Mouse with her sparkling eyes and mischievous grin, I see the girl I spend my childhood with. And at the end of the night as Jill and I share parting thoughts of the day that trail off into slumber, we are roommates yet again. So much has changed but at the very core of it all, we haven't.

The refrigerator bulged, our bellies followed suit and after our festivities, the recycling bin was pretty much full. The time flew by too quickly but we cherished every second. We agreed to try our best to make it an annual tradition. I just hope we will be able to find stuff to talk about.  : )

Mouse and Marg wondering if dinner can be served dockside.

YUP!

Chillin Jill

Marg in training

Reflections

Tranquility in waiting