One of my absolute favorite things about moving to Tubac has been the invitation to join one of the several book clubs that exist here. The Tubac Bookies as we’re called, consists of 12 women: Karen (our leader), Sue, Germaine, Nancie, Pam, Nan, Bernadette, Veronica, Tina, Sharon, Dianne and me.
This eclectic band of women come from all over the place and are all smart, creative, witty and sassy. We meet on the first Wednesday of every month and take turns hosting. While we’re getting together, the significant others of the ladies also meet at someone’s house where they eat hot dogs, drink scotch and I imagine, grunt together. They affectionately call themselves The Illiterates.
All these women have beautiful homes. Whoever is hosting trots out an amazing spread of food and wine on a beautifully laid table. We’ve had fresh seafood, homemade soup, French roasted lamb, authentic Brazilian dishes, deserts…I could go on and on, but I’m getting hungry. The food and the presentation is always as individual and amazing as the women who serve it.
Yesterday morning dawned like any other, until I tried to get out of bed. That turned out to be a slow go. My limbs felt like they had somehow become enmeshed in the fabric of the sheets during the night and did not wish to be parted. I wish they’d felt like that between 3 and 5 a.m. when I was tossing around like a landed fish.
My bed and my legs finally extricated, I went out to become one with the fabric of my kitchen, mainly the coffee pot. Coffee, injection, vitamins, oatmeal and fruit usually leave me feeling pretty chipper and ready to go. Not so much yesterday. I looked outside and there they were ~ clouds.
A few clouds…big whoop you say! I agree ~ generally no big deal. But something in that combination of barometric pressure, heat, wind and cloudiness took the feeling of having any blood in my body away. This was going to be a couch day, no doubt about it.
I figured though that by 5:30 it would cool down enough to ease my feelings of malaise so that I would be able to go partake in some lively conversation, amazing food and stellar company, but alas, no. I was still a drained noodle with tingling skin. (Good visual, yeah?)
Now you all know how much I love food, wine and company. It was with a heavy heart that I had to cancel at the last minute. My wonderful friends reached out with concern, good wishes, offers of help of any kind ~ a kinder group of friends would be hard to come by.
Next month is my turn to host. I’m excited to have everyone over, but this will be the true test of friendship with my girls. My house is tiny in comparison to all theirs, and my energy can be limited by unforeseen events like clouds in the sky. I know this bunch though, and I can guarantee that they will be just fine smashed into my living room and eating pizza hot pockets if that is all I can muster up.
P.S. Bookies if you’re reading this ~ I’ve never made or eaten a pizza hot pocket in my life, and don’t intend to start now, so it’ll be safe to come over….