Barbara, Diane and I wake up to rain. This would, in itself, be a ho hum event, indeed, even a desirable event (my flowers need water!), except that it is windy and cold out there. Very windy and, for May, very cold. No one wants to go out. Well, I do. I want my milky coffee!
I run into the nearby cafe, dripping rain. My camera is wet, my pants are wet. I'm not the only one there -- locals come and go, each one being such a regular that the cafe owner never even asks what she or he wants. We all say the same thing -- get a load of this weather! It's the wind that's the killer! But, we're grateful for the rain. The coffee machine hisses, I pick up some strawberry rhubarb bars, the aromatics are that of a happy morning.
Breakfast, at home.
We talk. And I'm thinking to myself -- as we've gotten older, we have climbed onto a platform of commonalities that now dominate our time together. In the past, though we remained good friends, we lived such different lives that oftentimes we were lost to each other. Time would pass, our visits were scattered. An occasional trip together, sometimes a group meeting, but in essence we raised our kids and concentrated on our jobs. There was never enough time for a more contemplative approach to friendship. That has changed. And when we reunite in person, we immediately and effortlessly come to those shared spaces and it is wonderful.
* * *
We spend the entire morning on the jigsaw puzzle and by lunchtime, we have assembled 999 pieces. (The last piece? We can't find it anywhere!)
For lunch -- no one wants to go out. Besides, we have left over pizza.
But wait -- my afternoon coffee! It's "only" drizzling at the moment. I pick up a very large umbrella and head down to the second cafe in town -- this one at the bottom of the hill. (It's called Cafe 43.)
This one has been around for a while and it has a more old-world ambiance.
She is shutting down for the day by the time I get there, but I emerge victorious: a latte and some cookie/scone treats for the gang up the hill.
* * *
Is it really the case that I'm the only one who stepped outside today? We eat dinner at home: snacks of hummus and cheese. A salad. We want to deplete our grocery supplies, sure, but mostly it is the weather that holds us back. Who wants to stroll to a bar during a Wisconsin monsoon with an arctic feel to it and an occasional rumble of thunder? The Jones House where we are staying is large but very cozy and the heating system keeps it draft free. My two warmth-loving friends especially appreciate this and at this point in my life, so do I. (Many is the place that I will not return to because it is just too cold!)
After dinner, we take out the Hygge game again. Ask the three questions on the card to the person on your left, except that so often we all chime in with our own answers. It's a conversation after all. And yes, we do learn stuff, even now, 45 years into our friendship.
It's very late when we finally call it a day. Tomorrow, in the rain and in the cold, we pack up, tidy the kitchen and head north to Madison. It's been such a good stay here, in Mineral Point!
with love...
