Blowing Bubbles

I have been traveling a lot the last two months, yet I really wanted to squeeze in a visit with a friend for a 5 o’clock sip and chat.  She had called and, since her husband was out of town, suggested I stop by for a glass of wine so we could catch up.

I arrived at her house at 5 pm after leaving my home at 9:30 that morning to attend four back-to-back appointments.  Following a quick hug and choosing a most delicious Pinot Noir, we both plopped onto her couch and exhaled. Then we laughed. We were too exhausted to even speak. But, that is a great quality in good friends. Knowing we were finally in the same space, sharing a bottle of wine, even the silence was fulfilling.  Eventually, we found our voices and caught up a bit, then decided we were hungry. 

She had nothing at home to offer.  She had been too busy, and then too exhausted, to go to the grocery store. I couldn’t blame her, she was preaching to the choir! I was delirious- I was blowing bubbles in my wine! We were too tired to go out. We were too brain dead to figure out what, or even if, we wanted to order something to be delivered. What we both really needed was a nap.

Then lo and behold, my husband, The Rum Drinker, called to see if I’d be home for dinner. Dinner? Was he cooking dinner? Yes? 

Amen!  That was all we needed to hear.

Within 15 minutes, we were sitting at my dining room table eating an unbelievably delicious non-dairy stroganoff (didn’t know it could be done!) with turkey meatballs, rice noodles, and a spinach salad.  We opened another bottle of wine and sat for two hours telling my son, who is now 21 and can share in our love of wine, the horror stories of our teen years. (Fodder for future blog postings, for sure!)

 Nice of him to let us reminisce.