Dinner at The Loveshack

Ringing the doorbell, I can see Joel through the window, perusing the mile-wide wine cellar... He snags a Riesling and a Pinot Noir, and answers the door. Sizzling, bubbling, whipping and stirring sounds ensue; a heady scent; a cold glass of wine; a warm conversation – dining at The Loveshack (aka Susan & Joel’s) is a stimulating experience in every way. I am tempted to lick the plate (too embarrassing, even for me) at the paté with caramelized apple on a bed of watercress and honey; and as Susan and I scrape every last morsel off the veal chops, I threaten (half-seriously) to toss the silverware and gnaw on the bone. Joel rags: “When was the last time you girls ate?!” It is a fun and heart-warming evening of catching up.

I married Susan and Joel ;-) At first I squirmed at the edict (Susan doesn’t ask, she proclaims) – marrying people is not my thing. I don’t even have a good record as a Maid of Honor! But she insisted and once I appreciated what an incredible privilege it was, I took the class, bought the license, and did a stellar job. I mean: here they are, years later – still flirting, sweethearts, ensconced in The Loveshack.

In my life I have been blessed with so many wonderful friends, and they sure know how to circle the wagons when I’m up a creek (whether knowingly or not). In the last day I’ve heard from Carolina in Argentina, Reylyn from Panama, Robin from England, Fabi in Brazil, and Judy – from that other foreign country, South Carolina LOL – just random, warm greetings and hellos. I feel loved and fortified.

Lise invited me over Thursday night to talk, and ended up making Cornish game hens with canned (we both confess our love of Green Giant!) green beans. Posed in the baking dish, the hens resembled a pair of prickly old ladies: their plump legs crossed and wings demurely covering their breasts. We giggled a lot.

Knowing I had to drive home, I didn’t have much wine (relatively speaking ...) but right before I left, Lise accidentally knocked her glass onto my lap. I was saturated and reeked! Lise bolted up to retrieve ... a towel? Some club soda? No! A can of Febreze! Suddenly she was dousing my cabernet soaked crotch with room freshener, and we laughed so hard we scared the dogs. I cannot imagine life without good friends to laugh (and sometimes cry) with.