out of the woodwork

It's the end of April and I haven't seen any of my friends in weeks. I guess that happens in the winter in Vermont. When you're busy. And nesting. And quite content to sit alone and write or read or bake muffins.

Still, when the birds begin tweeting and the branches start budding, I feel the quiet urge to shed my shell and reconnect.

After a day of spring cleaning and planting seeds, I got together last night with my friend Becky. We hadn't seen each other in a month. We decided to go to the Market and pick up some ingredients to make dinner.

I said to Becky, "Ugh, I feel so uninspired with food lately. I don't even read my Bon Appetit anymore."

"Don't worry. It will get better when it gets warmer and farmer's market starts back up. Let's just make a simple salad and get some wine. We can go back to your place and sit out on your porch."

That sounded perfect. We got shrimp (from the cute fishmonger), arugula, mango, and ingredients to make a lime cilantro vinaigrette. We found a nice bottle of Tempranillo. We picked up some lovely ripe strawberries for dessert. In the produce section, we ran into some other friends I haven't seen in ages: Tewks and her beau Chris. I don't remember the last time I saw Tewks. When she turned around to look at me her belly was round and neat like a watermelon.

"When are you due?" I asked. Tewks made a pretty, glowing pregnant woman. And both she and Chris seemed very pleased and prepared for the whole ordeal.

"Not till the end of July." I did the math in my head. That means I haven't seen her in at least 6 months. Probably more. I did more math in my head. "July is right around the corner!" How does the time escape us so?

Back at the apartment, Becky and I created a delicious salad. I still had some olive bread left over from Panadero's that morning. We ate and I felt once again inspired. Revived by the freshness of it all. And the company.

We ventured out onto the porch. Our porch is high up. It's a great look-out tower facing Lake Champlain and downtown Burlington. In the chilly, drizzly night, Burlington glowed its orange hue. The lake was misty. All was calm. We sat out there for hours. Chatting, catching up, drinking wine. I felt like an old rusty engine, greasing my gears, shining up for summer and friends and potluck dinners. It was one of the best nights I've had in a while.