Picture It

In the words of The Golden Girls own Sophia Petrillo, "Picture it..."  

A warm summer evening in the South.  Outside, in the distance, crickets are chirping, frogs croaking, and mosquitoes are buzzing.  But closer, you hear the crackle of fire, the sizzle of meat on the grill, and the chatter of friends.  Each sound rising and falling in a perfect rhythm that is metered by the clink of ice against glass.  You smell the burn of charcoal, the spicy aroma that seasons steaks, and the occasional whiff of freshly cut grass.   

This is what weekends in the South are made of.  This is what this past weekend was for me.  Perfection.  

We had friends come into town from Alabama to spend the weekend.  It was a glorious time of hanging out, relaxing, and watching our girls play.  A time of catching up, and of "remember when..."  A time of laughter, and tears... brought on by much more laughter.  Our weekend was, in a word, divine.

We listened to music and reminisced about the memories that each song brought to mind.  We shared stories, and reminded each other of events that at least one of us would probably rather forget!

We slept in, well, as much as two toddlers would allow.  And, watched a friendship develop between our daughters.  

We cooked out, went boating, swam a little and served up cocktails to toast to old memories and the new ones we made, to future gatherings and lasting friendships.

All in all, the weekend came and went too fast, but we parted ways a little lighter, a little more joyous because of the time we spent together.