Frolic through the Flowers with a Friend

"It's going to be hard for you to move," Mom said this morning as we talked on the phone. I woke at 7, but was back in bed by 9:30. I blinked at the clock in confusion at 11:30 and shuffled down the hall while I rubbed at my eyes and said I was still tired!

"Well, yes," I replied, glancing around at all this stuff I have in my pretty house. But it would be lovely to get a job. And move on to the next thing.

"You'll miss Friend," Mom said gently, sounding worried, and I nodded in response before speaking.

"I know," I said softly. "I'm hoping that she leaves at around the same time since she's starting to look for jobs too. I'll miss her very much." I dread it, quite frankly. The loss of someone who knows me so well, the easy way we have of communicating, the knowledge that someone knows the background to all my stories and can appreciate the jokes or rants or whimpers of dismay.

After we sipped coffee and both got dressed, we grabbed two bottles of water and headed off to a nearby garden. Upon arriving, we snapped a few photos and wandered down a hill toward a small pond. I bent to take a picture and gasped when my full water bottle tumbled out of my camera case and on to the bridge. "Oh, no!" I exclaimed as I reached too late and listened to it splash into the water. "I littered," I breathed, horrified, to Friend. She laughed at me and I glanced around to see if anyone saw. Then, side by side, we leaned over the edge of the bridge watched the blue bottle float with the moss atop the water.

We continued to wander around the prettiness while I resolved not to ruin any more of it. Friend took three pictures to every one I captured but it was relaxing to move slowly along the paths, glancing at signs and appreciating flowers, breathing in fragrant bushes and piney trees and climbing roses.

"You know," I mentioned as Friend dropped to the ground yet again to complain that the wind was blowing blossoms out of frame as she tried to get very close to the flower, "I tend to take pictures from farther away. Perhaps I'm more a big picture person and you're better at details." She looked at me and sighed, saying something about how it more meant that I just did more work cropping my photos before I showed them to anyone and I paused. "No," I decided after thinking for a moment, "my explanation is more profound."

"Putting that on the blog, are you?" she asked, moving toward the next photogenic plant.

"Yes," I decided, "yes, I will."

"That's pretty," she said at one point and I huffed out a sigh.

"The light is crap," I offered, squinting at the display on my camera. "This is going to be all wrong!" I walked behind her as we moved away from the view of the bench with red flowers. "That was negative," I mused as I followed her. "So, yes. It is very pretty."

Once we got closer, the bench was lovely and we lingered there for a bit. "So," I asked as we moved back up the hill, "if you brought Former Roommate, would she just enjoy or try to dig stuff up to take home?"

"She would not try to dig stuff up to take home," Friend sighed. "You can take her out in public." I nodded in reply.

"I need your water," I said as we found a different bench a little while later and sat down. "Mine," I paused to think of the right word, "unfortunately got lost." She handed me the bottle and while I greedily gulped two swallows, I choked on the third.

"You spit on me," she offered mildly after I'd coughed and coughed, losing the final mouthful of precious liquid all over the path in front of us, my jeans and my camera case. I dabbed at my eyes and coughed a bit more before glancing to see her swiping at her own pants. "Sorry," I offered hoarsely. "Having a problem here."

"Former Roommate doesn't spit on me," she teased. "And she'd know the names of these plants too. Take better pictures." I nodded and blew my nose, thinking the drinking water was very hard. We walked a bit more before deciding to call it a day.

"Now my head hurts," I offered when we were sitting in the car. "I feel a little queasy. I think we should eat something." We wove our way out of the neighborhood we'd been visiting and headed toward my house again. I sighed longingly over Qdoba. Thrilled when Friend agreed to my choice, I happily ordered a burrito and went to fetch a fork to eat the filling out of the center while Friend nibbled on a quesadilla and chips.

"It's so good," I sighed, carefully transferring rice and beans and chicken and cheese from inside the tortilla to my fork. I nodded in firm agreement when Friend said she was full.

"There's always room for ice cream," she decided and we walked across the parking lot to fetch some. She soon regretted her words as we sat outside, enjoying the mild temperature and gentle breeze and ice cream with caramel and fudge, pecans and brownies. "There's not room for this much ice cream," she decided.

Having chased down my last pecan, I proclaimed myself finished and tossed my cup in the trash. We got back in the car and headed toward home, full of food and thoughts of flowers. I'd mostly forgotten about the fact that my mom is missing me terribly and I really need to get home. The paper needing still more revisions sat untouched on my loveseat. I didn't even obsess about phone interview preparation or how I'll sell my house or if I'll find someone to love me in my next location.

Instead, I enjoyed the fact that someone loves me here. We're thinking drinks tonight. Church tomorrow morning. And perhaps elephants and giraffes tomorrow afternoon.

So. Yes. It will be very hard for me to move. And when I think about how much I adore this blog and the people who read it, I always smile when I think that it introduced me to Favorite Friend. And, of course, the blog gives me a place to put my flower pictures.