Above: steam from the only open water we spotted on Lake Pepin on the way down today. Eagles were soaring all over, dipping in for fish, the shock of those creatures so close.
Today the Urtel move began--from Winona to storage--and in two weeks, we will move them from storage to their new home. We were up at seven am and home at nine pm, three very wiggly dogs awaiting our return (with a pit stop; we live halfway between these places, so it wasn't hard to drop by to let the dogs run about for a little while before returning to the task at hand).
I told my husband I was surprised that at no point did I anxiously wish I were at home, curled up with a book. Yes, I probably would have preferred it to the sub-zero temperatures, but I would not have to the good company. I know it also had a little something to do with accomplishment--too easily is a Saturday spent at home, unmoving, reading a book or watching films with my husband. It's wonderful to escape, but it's another to say This is what I did today and have the sore muscles to prove it.
In Winona, we had the addition of Chad, whose body let off steam in the exertion of the move, stripping layers of sweatshirts away. In Minneapolis, we had Chris, one of my favorite girl friends. And good food--sandwiches at Acoustic and curry for dinner. And obviously, we had Lane and Angie, and we had the comfort of their home, folded up into carefully labeled boxes, their lives, packed tight in a studderingly slow moving van.
My friends are beginning to intersect, post-wedding, and it's a strange feeling. I have so many good girl friends, but there are small, singular connections and those are even rare. My bachelorette party wound up being an eclectic mix of beloveds from my many journeys in life.
When I was in eighth grade, I attempted friendships with Kelly's other girl friends, hoping to fit into her socializing more, hoping to attend the slumber parties she did. But Kelly was jealous and asked her other best friend not to write notes back to me; the next year, Kelly and I grew apart, and it lasted nearly all of high school. I found another community of girl friends, The Herd, and other experiences. We were fortunate to return to where we'd left off, but I never fully understood why she wasn't willing to share.
And I must also mention this: I am the type to have incredibly thin skin, make an incredible effort at being glass-is-half-full and rarely succeeding, and mostly, I am the type to be fiercely jealous. My previous relationship was fraught with phone numbers at bars and flirting; it wasn't easy to not come home pouting. But my husband isn't that type; he is kind and fun, but he isn't one to flaunt himself (quite the opposite--never have I met a more humble person), and if you put him in a meat market type bar, he would stand out like a sore thumb, obviously and incredibly uncomfortable.
So I say this to my friends, who are gloriously becoming friends in their own right: always love me most. :) And keep me involved; just because I live an hour away doesn't mean I won't be willing to come over and watch the re-run of some half hour television show with you. I do bake really good chocolate chip cookies, and I'm perfectly happy taking your dogs for a walk in the sub-zero cold.
And I say this to my friends, who are gloriously becoming friends in their own right: enjoy each other, because I have some of the most beautiful friends in the entire world. My heart always feels immense, sated--it always feels lucky.
15 hours ago