Old friends

Had one of those weekends that could not be ruined, even by drunken motorcycle racing fans who think it’s okay to try to assemble a tent between slugs of beer at midnight, swearing the whole time, next to tents full of families. (Give them credit for stamina, though . . . up drinking until 2 a.m., back at the drinking before 7 a.m.). But when we were away from all that nonsense, had a wonderful weekend of playing whiffleball and swimming, building sand castles and hiking around the lake, with my girls and three of their little friends, and it was just delightful. Cooked hot dogs on the fire (note: longer fork needed!), made smores (laugh at my store-bought marshmallow sticks if you must, but they’re thin and they keep the kids out of the fire), looked for werewolves and zombies in the woods (the whole Scooby-Doo thing), and let the girls bike in circles until they dropped. Massive breakdowns waited until the tents and gear were already packed up and we were ready to go . . . success!
Then home, quick shower, run to the grocery store and off to an old friend’s birthday party at Thacher Park. Just a great time, seeing people I see too seldom. If my every weekend seems to be committed to something all year round, why are some of those weekends not to these people? Something wrong with me, something I intend to fix. Some of these people have been my friends for more than 25 years; we come and go out of each others’ lives but we’re always there. And all these children! Wonderful little creatures.
Mine have been having The Summer of Fun. Baseball, ballet, camping, picnics, bicycling, swimming, summer camp, hiking, fireworks . . . and summer’s only half over!

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