Just Like Old Times

Last year we got into a nice routine with our neighbors.  We would sit and have coffee or pizza, in our house or theirs, while their baby played or slept, and visit.  Tom and F talked music.  Within a few minutes, one of them would take the guitar off one wall or another and start strumming.  A and I would talk school, shopping, men, family, tv shows, whatever struck us that day.  We would drink tea or beer, eat cookies, play a game, or watch a movie.

These times made Duino our home.  We had friends who we could talk to about nothing or everything.   We could each get out of the house and go for a walk with someone who spoke English.  After a bad day, or a disagreement with each other, we each had someone else to talk to.  Don't get me wrong, we love each other and all, but we spend so much time together that a little space and different audience is a gift.

You can imagine how sad we all were when we learned that A and F would move to the Netherlands over the summer.

They had a great opportunity to further both of their careers, they would be closer to one set of grandparents (but farther from the other), and, eventually, little I will have a great school to attend.

Tom and I would be fine--our Italian is good enough to get by in grocery stores and restaurants (most days).  We have a car now, so we can get around easily.  We know other people in town, and surely we will make new friends.

This weekend, we went to visit them.  After work, we had a 1.5 hour drive to the airport, an hour flight, and another 1.5 hour drive to their house.  Saturday we went on a bike ride and saw the town of Maastricht.  We joined A's family to celebrate her mom's birthday.  Sunday we went on a long walk from their house into the maze of bike paths that cross the country.  Then we got back in the car, another 1.5 hour drive, 1 hour flight, 1.5 hour drive to get back to Duino around 11 pm.

Was it lots of travel?  Yep.  Typical stressful European travel?  Yep.  Did the house cleaning or the laundry get done this weekend?  Nope.  But what do I remember about the weekend?

Sitting in the living room Sunday afternoon with a cup of tea.  I (the baby) napped.  Tom and F strummed guitars, planning their show they will someday, somewhere play together.  A and I just talked.  Just like old times.  With so many changes for us in the past year and a half, it's nice that some things don't.