We snacked on the picnic basket I packed as we sailed out of the city and left everything behind to start our weekend. Stuffed olives, cheese, bread and spreads balanced between the seats as the conversation jumped from topic to topic.
For forty years, Doppelganger and I have been able to connect in a way that is unique. Her husband Lou was in for a weekend of non-stop reminiscing as we built new memories. The weather was a relief for them, coming north from a South Carolina summer. We had more rain than I would have liked but it never dampened the festivities as we cooked and ate our way through the days.
Friday night we dined on duck breast in raspberry balsamic. Saturday we managed to knock Fried Clams off Lou’s bucket list and lobster off Doppleganger’s wish list.
A misty, moist walk up to the ledges to show them my world resulted in wet feet for poor Lou. He was a good sport about it.
The drive to Portland Maine for Saturday dinner was only marred by a traffic snarl. Once we arrived my ex-husband, Jeff gave us a grand tour and Doppelganger even found her next potential husband, should the need arise. Isn’t he charming?
Lou and Jeff surveyed the fish market and discussed the finer points of gourmet preparation techniques. I see a “Chopped-styled” cook off the next time these two are together. Doppelganger and I will each fill baskets with exotic ingredients and reap the rewards of the contest.
We marveled at the “Worlds Largest Ball of Hay Atop a Compact Car” on the docks. No idea whatsoever what the significance of this was…
Then it was off to dinner where Lex and Shana joined us bringing elegance and laughter. After the obligatory “selfie” on the street corner thanks to Lou, we headed south and west for home.
Sunday dawned chill and damp. A lovely respite for my southern guests but a monkey-wrench in my plans for lots of outdoor activities. We dropped by the barn to at least pat and play with the ponies though a ride was not possible. Doppelganger and I met riding horses at college and that thread is thick through the pattern of our friendship. Young Melody, this year’s baby, was more than happy as the center of our attentions. I introduced them to Night and we toured the farmyard.
When all was said and done, it was an immersion in friends, family; the past, present and plans for the future. And yes, Doppelganger did live in my sweater most of the weekend. When I picked it up tonight, memories flooded over me.