My college girlfriends were in town recently. We met working at the Iowa State Daily, and have gotten together annually over the years (decades) since.
You know what’s amazing? People who know everything about your adult life. Family knows about you since you were a wee thing. But friends you make when you were coming of age have this sort of archived history of your independent self.
Holli, Nicki, and Julie are human archives of my journey to adulthood. We’ve had Chickfest through the swinging single years. We’ve vetted each others’ life partners. We’ve attended each others’ weddings and milestone birthdays. I remember the first year we got together when I was a new mom, when I slept most of the time and the girls brought me coffee on demand. I was very annoying that year.
We’ve gone to vacation hotspots—Napa Valley, some little village in Mexico. Last week, we just stayed at a Holiday Inn in Des Moines.
We’ve had rough spots. There was a time we even talked about scrapping the yearly trip altogether.
Feeling very thankful today, looking at this picture of our first Chickfest 20 years ago. It was taken at the National Forest Lodge in Isabella, Minnesota, where I eventually married Jim, and which Zadie’s middle named after. I’m thinking about how we ate squirt cheese and crackers. Talked about love and life and work. How we eventually browbeat each other into exercising, but not for very long.