Well, here’s a fun thing to try. Take four women with four different summer calendars packed with the likes of five business trips, three birthday parties, two extracurricular activities, one wedding (and a partridge in a pear tree?) and find a two hour window in which to celebrate all of the above.
A woman’s calendar is a twisted game of Tetris.
And yet, it happened! We did it. We found a window and squeezed it into the calendar nearly a month ago, and then – the hard part – we did not move it.
Women are notorious for moving it. We are flexible little creatures, shifting time windows here and there like tiny wooden Jenga pieces. Can we move our play date back to 4? May I call you a bit early? How does 6pm work for dinner? I’ll be there in 5 (OK, make it 20).
And in the midst of the shuffle, we sometimes shift aside ourselves, our needs, our hours earmarked for receiving. Everything else seems so… concrete. Unmovable. Dentist appointments and oil changes and family visits and gah, it’s Monday again. Time to take out the trash. Can I get a rain check on that dinner?
But this weekend, on Sunday, our candy-colored Tetris games read just one line: Happy Hour.
I made pear crisps with Gorgonzola and walnuts (recipe here) and we sipped La Crema Sonoma Coast Chardonnay (a group favorite!) and we talked the afternoon away, chatting about hopes and fears and unfortunate surnames.
And we were happier for it all. We were happier for pausing, for sitting, for resting, for not daring to move the Tetris line we’d built into our week, the hour we’d reserved for ourselves. The hour we’d reserved for each other.
I forget, every time, how much I need other women. I forget how much I need to hear someone else’s story reverberate against my own, to listen for a pulse that beats in tandem with mine. I forget that women hold library card catalogs in their minds, filled with knowledge and experience and perspective. Looking for hope? Here’s a story. Seeking truth? Listen to this. Want a great recipe for cashew alfredo sauce? Wait a second, let me find it, there, perfect – borrow this one.
I have always been a loner, an introvert, someone who would rather observe than participate, and my female relationships have never been anything spectacular. But I’m learning, slowly, surely, to prioritize the happy hour. To prioritize the friendship. It’s work – the Tetris game, the balance, the expectations – but then again, good work nearly always brings a great reward.
And this weekend, the rewards were aplenty: wine, cheese and a backyard library.
This is a sponsored conversation written by me on behalf of La Crema Winery. The opinions and text are all mine.