A Love Letter To My Book Club

Post by J

Dear Literary Spirits,

Back in high school my choir sang No Man Is an Island:

No man is an island

No man stands alone

Each man's joy is joy to me

Each man's grief is my own

We need one another

So I will defend

Each man as my brother

Each man as my friend

I liked singing the song, but didn't really think its message pertained to me. If anything I probably thought the lyrics were a bit idealistic, being the cynical 17-year-old that I was. Shortly after high school, my then-boyfriend broke up with me and I remember defiantly telling my mother that I didn't need him anyway and that I didn't need anyone to help me. I even quoted Simon and Garfunkel: "I am a rock. I am an island." To which my very wise mother replied, "You are full of crap."

Of course, she was right. We need people - friends - to help us find the meaning in our lives, to help us find our way.  Sometimes a friend comes ready-made in the shape of a sister who is there for you all of your life. Sometimes you're lucky enough to find a friend whom you marry. And sometimes you're fortunate enough to stumble into a group of remarkable individuals that accept you, embrace your quirkiness, encourage your dreams, bolster your ego, and act as a sounding board for the thoughts in your head.

I am enormously blessed to have all of these types of friends in my life.

I've had friends over the years. I'm old enough to have had many friends. But can I just say here for the record that the relationship that I have with the women of my book club (I'm looking at you, Anne, Carol, Cory, Cora Lee, Sally and Stacey) is a precious and rare gift.

It began back in 2010 when I went in search of a little camaraderie, a little connection, and a chance to talk about a book I wanted to read.  What I found was so much more than that. And the book quickly became optional.

At first we were five and then six and then seven. We'd meet every four or six weeks - ostensibly to talk about a book we'd read. In reality, we'd talk about everything in our lives - sometimes we'd talk about everything but the book.

We talked about life. And death. And life after death.

We talked about our children and our parents.

We were supportive, and were supported.

Now I'm on the other side of the country and will soon be in a different country altogether. I've been busy building this new life and haven't been able to connect with my friends like I used to. But last weekend, they Skyped me in so I could again be a part of the conversation (okay, the book was mainly pictures and took about 20 minutes to "read," but still). Isolated in a new world as I am, I can't describe how much it means to me to know that my friends are still there and that I can still be a part of this amazing group of women that I admire, respect, trust, and love.

So a toast to you, my dear book club, my dear friends, on this, the eve of our 5th anniversary. May we have many more good times and excellent conversations.

And I'm not kidding when I say that we'd better be meeting on the beach in the Dominican Republic in about a year from now (for while no man is an island, each man's joy can include spending time on one). The mimosas are on me.

My besties (as the kids say), last summer.

New Year's Goals

Post by J

I'm not really a "resolutions" person, in that traditional "I resolve to change myself in the coming months so that I resemble someone else's idea of the perfect person" kind of way. Rather, I like to make a list of manageable goals for the year and then check off each one as it's accomplished.

This does several things for me: it provides both a little rush of anticipation for completing the task, and a smug sense of satisfaction when the task is actually done (and I love me some smug sense of satisfaction). More than that, however, a list of goals is a constant reminder that the goal is not really what's important. A finished project is great and all, but if my eyes are constantly focused on the horizon, I'm missing all of the beautiful and challenging details along the way. In a weird twist, a list of goals reminds me to take time to enjoy the moment, too.

So this year, my dear seester posted the following on FaceBook:

And because I love a pre-made list, I've decided to adopt this one and set these as my goals for 2015. There are nine items, and I could accomplish three simply by being in the Foreign Service (Learn a new skill - Spanish; Visit a new place - Dominican Republic; Try a new food - something in Santo Domingo, I'm sure), but this feels a bit like cheating. So I plan to accomplish all nine without counting learning Spanish and moving to the D.R.

The new year is a fresh slate, a clean piece of paper in the typewriter (how old am I?), an empty basket to fill with memories, and a bunch of other cliches. And I'm excited to get started.

And a happy 2015!

Post by J

A new way to ring in the new year for us:

Celebrating Christmas on January 1 (including imbibing mimosas, which I admit is not new),

A trip to Ford's Theater to see A Christmas Carol, 

Lincoln's box at Ford's Theater

a visit to Arlington National Cemetery, 

I can't imagine how many wreaths are necessary ...

a few excellent meals at restaurants around town (Old Europe, Founding Farmers, and Ted's Montana Grill), 

R and I toasting the new year at the Old Europe Restaurant

L and H, looking great for 2015!

a whirlwind trip to visit grandma that included 7 hours in the car, 

~ No photo available ~

and numerous, numerous rounds of board games at our small dining-room table. It was action-packed and we had a marvelous time.  I sure love those girls.

We 4