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September 28, 2009

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Posted by Grendel's Mother under Friends, laughter
[2] Comments 

I spent the weekend catching up with some good friends from college. I haven’t seen them in about 15 years and was a bit anxious as to how everyone would be—in what ways have we changed and what we’d do during the visit. It took a whole three seconds to see that nothing really changes. It was like stepping back on to the third floor of Bowman Hall. It started with a quick meet with Beth, Kristen, and Karen (who we for some reason used to call Bimbleman) at the breakfast table and then on to a winery. Yup, that’s right. What do you think five forty-year old women are going to do when they meet up again? After the first tasting we met our old bard Shannon at the local mall. It was a bit comical to see a group of women screaming hello and hugging in the middle of the shoe department.

Lunch time was for catch-up where we realized that only one of us was doing anything remotely similar to the degree we earned in college. So if these statistics say anything about the general population then 80% of college students are too young to decide on what they want to be when they grow up. For example, Shannon, the English major who shunned numbers is now an accountant, and Kristen, who now works as a paralegal was an Urban Studies major. I was shocked that our school even offered that degree especially because none of us knew what the hell it was or that Kristen had majored in it.

After talking about careers, babies, husbands, and fun trips, we started talking about other old friends and remembering stories. At first I thought, jeez, I’m old and I’ve lost my memory. But then several of the other women remarked that Kristen just happened to have a recall of details the rest of us didn’t. It had something to do with partying…

The phrase, “Stop me if you heard this one…” started many a laugh. And Shannon topped the one-liner list with the statement, “The title of the book about my life will be, ‘It seemed like a good idea at the time.’” And it’s also an appropriate reply to all the crazy things we did as young twenty-somethings—but not appropriate for my young nieces and nephews or my friends’ teenagers. We’re not that dumb anymore, kids.

Another wine tasting led to happy hour back at the hotel and then a nice dinner. The wine tastings were great. We learned about how certain grapes grew better here in Virginia, how the glass you drink out of can affect the taste, aerating the wine, and how (ahem, Beth) if you flirt a little with the wine guy you may get a little extra in your glass and a tour of the barrel room. (Not to be confused with the Barrel House, an establishment we frequented during our college years.)

What a great time. I encourage all of you to find some old friends on Facebook and arrange a reunion weekend. Not only will your abdomen hurt with all the laughing, but you’ll realize you haven’t changed that much, and your soul may just get the refreshment it needs. Thanks ladies! Ear!

 

August 25, 2009

S’more camp stories. And grilled cheeses.

Posted by Grendel's Mother under Camp Tockwogh, laughter, Love
[3] Comments 

When I was a kid, the last day of camp was filled with tears and smiles. My Mom would pick me up and I would not stop talking the entire way home. When I was in college, the tears and smiles were still there, but I drove myself home in a daze. I was exhausted, dirty, excited for another school year, depressed at having to leave my camp friends, and happy about the memories all at the same time.

Yesterday, while waiting outside the arts and crafts building at camp for the tie-dye t-shirts to dry, I was having a conversation with some friends about their kids and how it was so cute that the kids were in tears at the end of their summer camp session and how they had to be dragged away to go home. We then realized that we used to do the same thing. Even as adults, heading out the gates of Camp Tockwogh on the Chesapeake Bay was a difficult thing to do.

I’ve been home a few hours now after spending just a long weekend there and I can’t stop thinking about how much I miss my friends and how much fun it was. It really doesn’t matter how old you are, those feelings never go away. It’s family camp now at Tockwogh. The group I stayed with was quite eclectic. Some of us are single, others married, some have kids, and some don’t. It doesn’t matter though. Family is what you make of it. And we are a family. That cabin was full because we have such a strong bond that we have to see each other and spend time together whenever we can. (The sailing, tether ball, and archery may have something to do with it but I’m pretty sure we could get by with just conversation, Amy’s battery powered blender, and Jack’s light display.)

I keep wondering what is it about that place called Tockwogh. Is there some kind of weird drug that grows in the grass and trees that infects anyone who spends time there? It could be something in the grilled cheeses—a famous meal that we all make our plans around for some reason. Seriously, who else but Tockwogh folks would change dinner plans, a day off, or the time they come home to collect the dog (my bad), just because it’s the “grilled cheese” lunch?

I was there for four days and spent time with friends I’ve known for 20 years and with others I just met this weekend. In both cases, I can say I’ve strained several ligaments and muscles in my abdominal wall with all the laughing. (The Kiwi “ringleader” story was particularly funny and should you ever wish to become part of the Tockwogh Giggle Loop, we’ll tell it to you.) It really is hard to explain the bonds and the strength of the friendships that are made there. I know some people who have attended other camps get it and I hope that some of you reading this will visit Tockwogh and become part of our family.

Thanks to Amy, Jack, Wendy and kids, Liz and Regan, Abby, Andy, Steve, Mike and Mathew, the “urban sprawl crowd”, the “girls village crowd”, Jen and Bill, Michelle and Dan, Beth and Eric, Nadine, and the staff. I didn’t cry this time—but only because I know from experience that we’ll see each other again soon. Okay, maybe just a few tears of thanks for having such great friends. And I’d like to give a shout out to the next door neighbors in Hopi cabin who I did not meet but had to live with us crazy people and did so in tolerant silence.

I’m off to wash off the dirt that has permeated every pore, bandage the wounds, and sleep in a bed that can actually fit me, and enjoy the fact that I have a bathroom close by that does not threaten to host a snake in its rafters. But before I go I just want to say thanks to the staff. Especially those boys from down under who have those great accents. And the way they talked was nice, too. May you have great wind for sailing, smooth glass for water skiing, sun for warmth, and ice to keep the beer cold.

 

July 13, 2009

The anatomy of a wedding.

Posted by Grendel's Mother under Animals, laughter, Love
1 Comment 

First—congratulations to my friends Steve and Sandy who took the plunge, tied the knot, exchanged vows, got hitched, gave up their freedom, etc., etc., in other words, got married this last weekend.

The wedding took place in the town where I grew up so it was nice going back home and seeing old friends again. On Friday I drove to Pennsylvania, dropped the dog off at the rent’s house and headed on over to the rehearsal dinner. After some yummy food and drinks and lots of laughs over fun toasts, we headed on out to Buckley’s Tavern. In this area of the country, bars are called Taverns and there are only about two within a half hour of my folk’s house. My friends made me laugh so hard I actually hurt myself.

On my way home I dodged a couple of deer and a fox and managed not to drive my SUV into a tree. I’ll talk about the back roads of Chester County in another post but let’s just say when you’re not used to the one-lane bridges you’ve got to be on your toes.

So that brings us to Saturday. I slept in, ran some errands, had a lovely lunch with old friends who weren’t going to the wedding, then ran over to the Mendenhall Inn to check in. This place brought back memories. As a kid I went to church across the road and as a teenager was in a serious car wreck in front of the Inn. Okay, time for new memories.

The service was lovely and we all drove back to the Inn (not a Tavern this time) for the reception where we got to eat freshly cooked, very yummy crab cakes. More fun toasts, laughing, dancing, stories, and catching up takes us to the “after party.”

Let me begin by saying that the bartender was really up-tight and went a bit too far when he called for security because of the duck thing. The patron was in fact a trouble-maker but the decapitation of the wooden duck was an accident and it could have happened to any of us. (Not me of course, I just take the photos of all the incriminating stuff.) So party-pooper barkeep closed down early and forced us to go hang out with the security guard on the porch. Thankfully the bride and groom gave us goody bags with little bottles of wine and snacks to get us to that two a.m. hour when we finally called it quits.

That brings us to the wedding breakfast. This is where the parents of the newly married couple are still all smiles and the rest of us dutifully and sincerely thank them for the free booze—I mean the lovely dinner and dancing—through bleary and bloodshot eyes. I got to see baby Bubba for the first time which was really nice. But when my friend Amy made him cry I knew it was time to make a hasty retreat.

The drive back to the parent’s house to pick up the dog involved a skirmish with some pugs and another deer. (I kid you not. See photo below.) On my way back to Virginia, I was tempted to stop at the Herr’s factory for a tour but decided to skip it on this trip.

Finally, I must say, the best part of the whole wedding was the time spent with some of the kindest, funniest, loyal, awesome friends a gal could ever have. Blessings to Sandy and Steve and may you live long, loving, pug-free lives together.

Pug punks

 

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