It’s been years since I’ve seen Kristi, though we’ve traded emails. Her youngest daughter was an infant the last time I saw her. We’ve tried for years to have a rendezvous here or in the Methow. When we had the money, we didn’t have the time and when we had the time, we didn’t have the money and so it’s gone on for years.
I was thrilled when I found out that she could actually visit! And when I saw her, she hadn’t changed a bit—still outgoing, outspoken, funny -- and with a jar of homemade blackberry jam in hand. Her daughter was a freckled happy kid who did indeed look like her dad and speak out like her mom. Her husband settled down for a nap under the plum trees—a well-earned rest after rowing his family out to see me.
We had a great visit, though it was far too short. It was so good for me to see an old friend and I was bubbling over when my husband came back. He was disappointed that he didn’t get to play with Kristi’s daughter—as the father of a teenager, he misses the days when daddy was about the coolest guy around.
My friend Diane posted a link to the 3-Day Novel writing contest on Facebook. I pondered a few ideas I’d been tossing around and then thought about Kristi and our yin/yang, mountains/islands, east/west story and thought: “YES! Let’s do it, even though it’s not really a novel, let’s tell this story!”