Monday was already going to be exhausting on its own: studying work in the morning, administrative work and grading in the afternoon, a quick dinner, and then a 2.5-hour class to teach in the evening. Halfway through this long day came news from Boston and I just lost heart.
I didn’t take a single picture all day long, so I knew I had to dip into the archives. Needing some positive energy, I went looking for pictures that would cheer me up.
Two years ago, I was having coffee with two out of three of my sisters. We decided that we were tired of doing this without the fourth sister who lives in far-away Florida, and so a plan was hatched to fly down and surprise her for a Sisters’ Weekend. Her husband gamely played along and helped us scheme. He even found what turned out to be a lovely wine called “Four Sisters” and made sure there was a supply for that weekend.
She never suspected a thing. The look on her face when we jumped out from around the corner of her house was worth everything.
Fueled by wine, Luciano Pavarotti turned to 11, and a profound appreciation for silliness, we proceeded to have a loud, boisterous weekend-long slumber party.
After lunch on Saturday, we stopped at Starbucks so we could have that four-sister coffee date that initially prompted this entire event. One of my sisters had brought bracelets for us all…
…and beads to choose from.
The choosing process ended up being quite elaborate, bordering on the absurd. We even invented a new game: bead curling. The beads were the stones, our coffee stirrers were the brooms, and we tried to “curl” our least favorite bead in someone else’s direction so we wouldn’t end up being stuck with it.
Then it was back home for dinner and a little more wine.
The time to leave came all too soon, but the memories remain fresh. It’s impossible to think of that weekend and not smile.
I am still recovering from Monday, but its aftertaste is now gone.