First stop on the tour to the Buckeye State: My cohort in-college-cavortin, Wendy's sprawling 1950s farmhouse on secluded acreage in the middle of a city. There are more amenities including those little shampoos and lotion than the Ritz. I'm pretty sure there must be a cabana boy around here...
Here we are in a moment of sobriety propriety with two of our sorority sisters who popped over. This is the tame photo so that they'll still talk to me...and pre-cabana's boy's killer slushes made with that special brown liquid from Kentucky.
While the pool boy was busy servicing elsewhere, (this is a blog for of-age readers..kids..go text or play your X-Box), I decided to make MY favorite adult beverage, mojitos. Of course those of you of legal age may have made mojitos and you know that there are multiple and very crucial steps to making the perfect one. Note to readers: Do not attempt if you have or may have any issues with alcohol as alcohol is an addictive substance and ruins lives. Seriously. Stop reading this kids and go outside and play on the monkey bars. Auntie Jane and her girlfriends behaved like total Ya-Yas but they are 99% of the time fine, upstanding citizens individuals who know never to drink and drive..all things in moderation..usually..most of the time.. nearly all of the time.. yeah... that's it.
Anyway, now that the kids are gone eating popsicles... Mojito making is complex. You have to make simple syrup, slice and juice the limes, muddle the mint, add the ice, put in some..not too much... vodka and I was trying to do ALL this AND keep up amiable bantering. So our bar owner/tennis pro friend, Cathy, said, "I could have had those done an hour ago!" Note to self: Prepare mojitos BEFORE guests arrive and BEFORE slushes.
Here's to Life's challenges. They may not have skipped us but we wouldn't change a thing. Except maybe to have gotten together more frequently. Wendy's youngest and most compliant child, Andrew, did saunter by our locale in the poolhouse... Oh..Andrew!! Another slushy please! I am definitely putting my bid in to retire to her carriage house. I have shamelessly bribed her dogs, so if they have a vote, I'm a shoo-in. Do you think I should advertise now for a pool boy in say, 2030?
And of course the requisite stop to Butsy's, which is now called the Backstretch, in a homage to the Little Brown Jug (you HAVE to google that if you don't know what it is) It's still a very divey bar that would have curled our mothers' hair and had them yanking us out by ours if only they'd known we were hanging there. The regular "Norm!s" get their seats early..as in a.m. (oooh hey..it IS afternoon isn't it?)
Pitchers used to set us back $2, or a toonie for you Canadians, although neither Wendy nor I can remember ever having to pay for one. We invented the game of Quarters here - I'm sure of it. And our schoolgirl rendition of Stevie Nicks' Leather and Lace in 3- part harmony, still echoes from the walls. Might have been the year we were nominated for a Grammy. You can google that too. Aforementioned Regular Bar Stool Ocupant seemed relieved that we didn't reprise our roles.. he was here for the first time around, as what is passing for paint. I do believe my gray hair is a NEW addition, or RBSO might have recognized me.
I would love to share the visit to Wendy's dad's with you but I was so enamored by his wit and charm that I totally forgot to photo-size him or his hot-dog eating cute little rescue wanna-be pit bull pup, Lady..Missy..Bugsy..Sissy..Sassy... something... Ok...had tooo much fun at Wendy's.
Now, drive thee in a southeasterly direction towards the foothills of the Appalachians and the Class Reunion of Marietta High School Class of 1979. The biggest, most athletic, smartest, best all-around class ever. Source: Who's Who in American High Schools.First stop: The old homestead @ 331 and my mom's resting aka haunting spot. Oh yes..but she's a friendly ghost.
When I hit her beloved brick streets, my heart skips a beat and then a wonderful sense of peace..the kind that comes from being back on familiar turf, descends. ahhhhhh.....
But only a brief time for wallowing in nostalgia. Time to head straight over to Party Central: my homegirl, Holly's, house. Let the Reunioning begin!
Here's the in-crowd..minus Sarah and Lauren. We were the popular ones.. oh yeah..the "it" girls. the co-eds on the go, the hostesses with the mostesses, the prom AND homecoming queens, the girls who can't be caught..that was us...Oh, whatever! That's the great thing about a 30th reunion...no one cares who you 'were'... heck, we didn't care that much back then! Or is it that we can't remember?
This dress-alike decision was extremely last-minute - as in we were nearly walking out the door, and Pam didn't get the call. She did have Black and Pink so we included her..cause we are all nice girls like that. But watch out Pam! Holly Hobensack's hovering hands can NOT be trusted!
We are all much more mature now, like maybe 15 minutes more. Yet, it seems that Class Clowns mature a little more slowly perhaps. Kathryn and I are not holding hands with Hot Hands Hobensack. We are holding them down!
Meanwhile, one or more of us may have been shocked to see photos from the previous night..
one was sentenced to hard labor:
and one had to hide under a grass hat... oh wait.. I think she's a little young for our class... that's Wendy's 2nd youngest and not very compliant child. (just kidding, Foxy.)
After coralling enough fun to last another 5 years, I saddled up my horse and trotted back to Calgary just in time to join the yeehawing at Stampede!