those kinds of friends.

Shame on me.

No really. I've been meaning to write this post for months now, almost 7 months to be exact. You see, this time I really do deserve a proper "shame on you" finger wagging from myself for this kind of thing. Because when big firsts happen in your life, one should write about them especially if one is already inclined to write about things (which I like to tell myself that I am one of those kinds of people). 

This first that I speak of actually happened to a friend of mine. One of my oldest and truest friends of all time. She's the one I played dress-up with for hours + hours + hours on end as well as all forms and versions of "house". She's one of those kinds of friends. One of those for-lifers. (You know the type.)

You better believe we scootered, imagined and make-believed our way right out of childhood, into teenaged trials and tribulation (actually we did manage to have quite a bit of fun along the way) and straight into adulthood as real-life grown ups.

And that brings me to the reason I'm writing today. Because last fall when my sweet and dear old friend had her very first not-make-believe-at-all baby boy, I was among one of the firsts to welcome this little man, in all his fresh and squeezable newness, into this world. Want a little peek at him?

I remember walking away from the hospital that day and the transition was so real I could taste it. From little girls to big kids. From little-squirt freshman to how-did-I-get-here seniors. From first-real-job to I-do-and-he-does-too. To pregnant bellies to welcoming in new life. Those kinds of transitions. Unspeakable, really.

It's a privilege. Yes, that's what it is. A complete privilege to journey with another through the transitions and curves of life. Wouldn't you agree?

This is my friend. 
Her name is Kathryne (and these are the men in her life). 
She's one of those kinds of friends. 
One of those for-lifers.

You know the type.

xoxo.

a donut discovery

this week i was

introduced to a new friend.

it was instant attraction.

some might call it:

love at first look.

upon the first moments 

of being together

it felt like we had known

each other all along.

like we'd never

been apart.

this friend was meant for me.

and i was, obviously meant

for this friend.

this is the friend

i had never known

i had always been waiting for.

and that is why our meeting is

serendipitously perfect.

a true fairytale

if you've ever heard one.

we met.

E 25th Street & 30th Ave South.

at a neighborhood favorite

called the Donut Cooperative. 

it took me a minute to know.

to know that is was

indeed this friend.

this friend that was meant

to be.

but after she was

on the plate.

all doubts were far far away.

like probably as

far as St. Paul.

that's how far.

her name?

curry coconut donut.

depends on who you are,

but you might have to

trust me on this one.

she was perfect in 

every way.

the other person i was

there with

...she made other friends.

but none as special

as my new friend.

 the whole place was

full of vibrant color &

clean-straight lines.

there is one cozy corner

to saddle up to 

if your desire is to

stay the morning away.

the staff is quirky & kind

and just crazy about

their creations.

the owner Dawn was there

that morning.

baking away.

and she seemed genuinely

pleased to know

her donut brilliance

brought me 

and my new friend together.

and i will probably

never be the same again. 

so dear curry coconut donut.

until we meet again.

at the,

yours truly.

- n. 

apples on the ground.

i went picking for some apples.

tis the season.

right?

right.

so convinced a friend

to join me

and we headed off

on one delightfully autumnal

day.

after all

this is why

fall is so dearly loved.

because it produces

these sorts of days...

some might call them

perfect.

this particular apple orchard:

minnetonka orchards

truly did have it all.

hay mountains.

corn mazes.

open grills.

friendly animals.

kind staff members.

i was mostly interested

in the apples.

and picking my own.

and my friend?

she was interested in

a hay ride.

lucky us. 

we could head in the

same direction.

upon paying for our

plastic bag

that allowed us to

begin our search for

our

peck of apples,

we were one of the many

swarmingly

eager

apple-pickers

roaming the rows.

it was late in the day.

and the rows had thoroughly

 been picked over.

and we quickly noticed

the apple trees

no longer held any

apple in their branches.

i spotted a rosy apple

under a tree.

i picked it up.

inspected it.

thought about it.

then i bit.

and do you know?

it was perfect.

a little boy accompanied

by his parents

mimicked my action.

"honey! no! that's icky!

we don't eat things on the ground."

said his mom.

she took his hand and

the small boy and i

exchanged confused looks

as he passed by.

many of the 

eager

apple-pickers flew by

with frustrated remarks about,

"how there are no apples left!"

and

"don't they know there are no

apples here!"

and before we knew

it.

we were quite alone

amongst the bare trees.

and we began to notice.

that some someones

were dearly loving the

apples absence from

the trees.

and so this is how

our apple-picking trip

turned into an 

apple-seeking trip.

because instead of looking up

for apples.

we roamed and dug around

with the bees

to see what we could find.

and we found some beauties.

some might even have 

called these apples...

perfect.

           

you do you know?

we filled our whole peck.

and i had such a nice time.

i think i'll go back

next year.

perhaps next time

i will actually have the 

opportunity to

pick.

the apple from the tree.

but perhaps not.

and either way.

i'll still eat it.

because yes.

i do.

and i will.

 eat food on the ground.

until next 

autumnal activity...

today. celebrate. woman.

i met her by chance.

a couple of weeks ago.

she intrigued me.

she was locked. 

and i was curious to know what

was inside.

over dinner

she slowly opened a bit

of herself.

she shared her hopes.

her failed attempts.

and her dreams.

she spoke of diligence.

and it radiated from her core.

diligence in her relationships.

her family.

her friends.

and her education. 

her english

speaking was poised,

thoughtful and dynamic.

i'm not sure how it happened.

but she asked me

if i

would help her study more english.

i told her

she didn't need it.

her english was possibly better 

than mine.

but she insisted.

she took my number.

told me she'd call.

and she did.

i think of the word

intense.

and completely delightful.

this is her.

her thoughts are soaking

with wisdom.

learned from a life lived...

intentionally.

her awareness of self

is poignant.

almost shocking

in utter clearness.

she has dreamed the dream of

travel.

as so many have.

to her, the work of being a 

flight attendant offers this.

her 20s are scattered with several 

ventures to achieve

this dream.

but the time has not been right.

she is no stranger to failed attempts.

life is mysterious, she says.

the time has not been right.

something about our chance encounter.

she said, inspired me.

your compliment

and confidence about my english skills...

job opportunities,

and something about the time...

it feels right this time.

so together. 

in coffee shops or small cafes

she is preparing.

i, assisting.

preparations for interviews.

because this intriguing woman

is living something.

something she has dreamed.

and all the while

she is teaching me.

always try.

we must.

because our dreams are apart of us.

life is mysterious.

but we must be diligent.

and you must not be afraid of failure, she says.

because failure just means

there is something else.

but we must dream.

and we must try.

so we do not have to wonder...

the way she pulls her hair

away from her face.

her enrapturing head-back laugh that shows

off her mischievous smile.

the way she grasps my arm when we walk.

our age difference.

while six years thick.

seems unimportant as i sit across

from her.

she jokes, calling me, sam.

the korean title for a teacher.

it humbles me.

because proper sentence arrangement

seems so insignificant.

to what i am absorbing.

soaking.

up.

never be afraid to dream.

and to try.

because we must.

we must try. she says.

when we part for the evening

it is i.

whose heart is filled. and pumping hard.

from my friend,

from my teacher.

because i am aware

of the risk of trying.

of what failure can look like.

how it can

eat at the very core.

she.

she is not scared.

or so she tells me every time we meet.

this time is for fun.

she wants to do it to

not wonder...what if...

but there is a wince behind her

confident eyes

every time she says it.

i know she wants to believe it.

but trying,
trying can be scary.

giving it your very all.

is risky.

so today.

on International Women's Day.

i wanted to tell you

a story.

about a woman.

who is dreaming.

who is hoping.

who is trying.

who has almost given up.

but she hasn't.

she has taught me.

that without

dreams.

what is there?

if we are not listneing to

the small voice inside,

what are we doing?

when will we start listening?
to ourselves.

today. celebrate. women.

young friend

i got a great reminder.

today.
in my inbox.
from my friend.


a few years
set themselves between us.
but time...
[as mary oliver teaches me daily]
its just another idea.


whenever i am with this friend.
or get to read
a few of her words
on my computer screen i am reminded
why
it is so important to have
friends in different
seasons of life.


she reminds me.
about what it means to be sixteen
heading to twenty-three.

and even though i think i 
tell myself everyday...
sometimes coming from my 
friend
in the middle of her teens.
i am caused to pause
in a new way.
by the wisdom
that her words hold.


natalie, explore! explore! explore!
stay young and enjoy the ride.
life moves fast.

yes friend you are so right.
and i will.
explore,
stay young,

 and enjoy.