25 Years

lr_mess_1.jpg25 years is a long time to know someone. One of my oldest friends, who I met when we were around 15 years old in a magnet high school art program, came to visit with our little family this weekend. When you know someone for that long, there are many personal preferences that you don’t have to discuss. For instance, she has specific food and beverage preferences. She likes her eggs soft, her rye toast and bacon well-done. She drinks tea, but only wants the teabag in for a second, then a bit of milk if appropriate. I know this information about her because we grew up together, and lived with one another for a few years in our mid-late twenties. We dabbled in all sorts of fun things, some decadent, some just silly. We made a movie together. We slept in the same bed for a year when we were broke and making the movie. We rolled cigarettes for one another. We were sort of married in a way, without the sexual aspects of marriage. Our monies were even intertwined. My mother asked me once during this time if we were “together”, which I was not offended by, but thought was sweet that she asked, and she quickly said, “We love you and her, so it’s okay if you are.” My parents had known her for so long it was already like she was a part of our family. It was great to have her around for a few days just to re-familiarize ourselves with one another, and to have her get to know Mimi and Beenie. Both were curious about her, laughed and played with her. Both enjoyed her visit.

lr_mess_2.jpgThis coming Friday a co-worker and friend of my husband’s is having her 31st birthday/Vernal Equinox celebration, and kiddies are invited. It should be interesting. It’s a relief not to have to find a babysitter for an evening. Plus, both girls are social, so it won’t be a big deal. The hosts promised to put up the copious LEGGO assemblages that are everywhere in their home for the event.

I gaze at the landscape that is our first floor, littered with stuffed animals, various plastic shapes and electronic music toys. I hope not to break my neck once I get up from my chair to attempt to tidy up. Maybe I’ll just leave it. The ladies are up in their room, chattering, laughing and shaking their cribs when they really should be napping. At least they are having a good time. Maybe I’ll play some online Scrabble.


  1. I must be getting old because one of my great joys in the morning is hot buttered rye toast and an over easy egg. Incredible.

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