I spent the past few days in a place where they have sunshine in March and it’s not 40 degrees, visiting friends in San Francisco and spending some girl time in the Napa Valley. It was lovely.
The Geek and I met these friends when we all lived in a four-plex on Capital Hill in the early 90′s. We were both newly married couples whose husbands bonded over motorcycles. Wednesday night dinners followed by 90210 and Melrose Place were a weekly ritual. Then they had a baby, we had a baby, we all moved out of the four-plex, and eventually, they moved to San Francisco. Which is convenient for visiting, I must say.
This particular visit included a girls’ trip to Napa and Lesley, Larry’s sister. We rented a friend’s house in Napa, done up with some sweet mid-mod decor. We discovered there’s not much to do in Napa at the moment – the recession seems to have left its mark. Luckily the house came equipped with a firepit, which one can actually use in March in Napa. Many gin and tonics were enjoyed. We are old enough now that it was quite refreshing to be able to hear one another and sprawl on the ground, as opposed to having a cocktails in a bar.
The next day I got my first facial. So decadent, but still strange to lay still while a stranger lathers multiple ointments on your face. Looking I am sure a full 10 years younger, we toured a few wineries and made our way back to Napa for a tasty tapas dinner. I won’t tell you what time we turned the lights out that night – did I mention we are old?
Sunday night back in San Fran, we were lucky that it was warm enough to “stoop”, a Surrey Street ritual of cocktails and neighbors. No trip is complete without it. Monday was spent in search of souvenirs, a mad dash my escort Larry was more than up for, before heading to the airport and back to reality.
I always love going to my second home in SF. The light is different there, some of it is familiar by now over so many years of visits. The people are the same, never seeming like it’s been months since my last trip, but everything is different from my everyday.
When things are stuck in your normal life, a weekend away is just the thing to shake things up – even better when wrapped in the arms of old friends. Around the fire pit, I was reminded that we all have our own problems, that nobody’s life is perfect or just right. Maybe bits and pieces, but nothing fits just right for anyone. Some of our problems are the same – we worry about our kids, we wonder if we are doing it right.
Really, though, we can’t know. Maybe someday we can look back and say, yeah, I did OK or I should have done this different, but really, we are all just doing the best we can. Having great friends along the way smooths the road, eases the roughness. And for this I am grateful.
But it’s good to be home.
P.S. Still not missing Facebook.