Polly P, Bunny (their real-ish names, I swear) and I used to live near each other in a gated community that had three separate sets of fairways and greens to play on, two different restaurants to feed from and several watering holes--some for the families with young ones, some adult only. It offered walking trails and group exercise...no, it wasn’t a zoo...it was a country club.
The first time we three got together for a chat and a bottle it was 5 pm on a Thursday night.
It took a little planning for Polly P. She called me early that morning to confirm that we were still getting together that evening.
I said, “Of course” and I was looking forward to it.
She told me she needed to know for sure because she had to save 25 of her 30 weight watchers points for our chat. That night she brought the best wine and a ton of celery. Lucky for us because the celery came in handy once we ran out of chips for the seven layer dip I had made for us.
Bunny called later in the afternoon to see if I had frozen peas in my freezer. No problem if not, she’d just bring her own. I told her all I had was frozen blocks of spinach. When she arrived that night, she went straight to my freezer and threw in a couple bags of frozen peas.
By her second glass of wine, she grabbed both of the ice cold bags; one for her forehead and one for the back of her neck. Hot flashes were taking over. After that, every time she came over for our 5pm chat she would bring frozen vegetables, and forget to take them home with her. Little does she known she’s been supplying me and my family with veggies for years now.
That first night our conversation consisted of a lot of unfinished sentiments, not knowing who bled blue or who bled red. We did our best to skirt around discussions about politics, religion and sex. We had determined one was too stupid, one was too complicated and one was too personal, not necessarily in that order.
Years later we are still great friends and these are still fluid topics, but we don’t shy away from them anymore. On any given day, any of those reasons could apply to any of those topics, for any one of us, depending on our hormones, how much wine we’ve had, or how bad our golf game was that week. Ah, it’s good to have friends that get you!
Kyle Ann Robertson
Retired, mother of four, grandmother of two, dog lover, yoga attempter, avid writer and wine drinker!