The more things change…

A couple weekends ago, the book club to which I belong — and lovingly refer to as The Divine Yu-Yus — drove up to stay with me at my cottage in Maine. This group of bright, opinionated, funny, fascinating women formed more than 20 years ago. And over the years, we’ve spent many weekends together. These trips are always a wonderful chance to grow even closer, support and cheer each other on, and share our stories.

Last weekend, the motorcycle club to which my husband belongs — and I lovingly refer to as The Hot Chocolate Gang — drove up to stay with him at our cottage in Maine. This group loosely consists of any middle-aged man with a motorized two-wheeled vehicle who’s anxious to get away from it all for a few days. It’s a wonderful chance for these men to play freely like prepubescent boys, make disgusting noises without fear of retribution, and pretend they’re immortal.

If you peeked into the kitchen during the Yu-Yus’ stay, you would find a wide variety of organic fruits & vegetables, farmers market cheeses, freshly baked breads, authentic pasta, homemade granola, Greek yogurt, a delicious blueberry crisp, and four kinds of dark chocolate.

If you peeked into the kitchen during the Hot Chocolates’ stay, you would find a wide variety of chips & munchies, steak, onions, eggs, bacon, peanut M&Ms, ready-made garlic bread, sour cream, bagels, and store-bought pies.

If you listened to the conversation during the Yu-Yus’ stay, you would hear women concerned about the state of national politics, the educational system, and social media, as well as discussions about relationships, children, books, movies, food, yoga, travel, and our aging bodies.

If you listened to the conversation during the Hot Chocolates’ stay, you would hear men talk about their motorcycles, football, motorcycles for sale, the fire in the fireplace, motorcycle accessories, aches and pains, potential future motorcycle trips, and cars.

Over the course of our weekend, the Yu-Yus hiked, swam, dined out, stargazed, played charades, and attempted slumber party games just like the ones we played when we were girls.

Over the course of their weekend, the Hot Chocolates rode their motorcycles on the road and off the road, fixed their motorcycles, visited a motorcycle museum, used their motorcycles for practical jokes, and raced each other on their motorcycles just like they dreamed about when they were boys.