27 Years In The Making

If you have a best friend, in my case a bestest best friend (BBF), of 25 years or more you know that is something to celebrate.  Great women friends are a treasure and I have been fortunate to have had many wonderful, smart, unique and, sometimes, downright quirky friends during my adult life (you know who you are!).  My BBF, Tracy, came along during a particularly amazing chapter of my life, just after I had moved to New Orleans.  We met on my 29th birthday (at gunpoint, but that's a long story that requires at least 2 martini refills...but, if we ever meet in person I'll tell you all about it).  That fateful night resulted in a friendship that is still as strong today as it was 27 years ago.  We shared a seriously cool apartment in the French Quarter, I was maid of honor at her wedding and she, matron of honor at mine.  She helped me pick out my first little yorkshire terrier puppy and I taught her how to cook.  We've held each other up through the loss of our parents, the loss of our marriages, and the loss of our short-term memory.  We've been separated by several state lines over the years, sometimes going many months between phone calls...years between visits, but our closeness never wavered and time slipped away the very moment we spoke again.

So here's to you Tracy.  Today is your special day (although you will deny it... "Mais, I don' know nuthin' about dat, me"), and I want you to know how much you mean to me and all the other people whose lives you touch.

P.S.  The 70's called, and they want their hairdo back.

Happy (You Know),

Sally Poodette

Speaking of Robert Frost...

Yesterday, my niece mentioned on her Facebook wall that she was running across several quotes from Robert Frost poems in books she was reading lately.  I don't know what she's reading, but because Robert Frost is my favorite poet, I was delighted she was discovering him and finding meaning in his writing.

I was prompted by her comments to go online and look up my favorite Frost poems and read through them again.  Whether or not you are a fan of poetry, chances are you are familiar with his poems.  Who didn't read The Road Less Traveled in school?  I was glad to also find out that the stone farmhouse in Shaftsbury, Vermont, where Frost resided from 1920 to 1929, had suffered no damage from Hurricane Irene. 

This is how the house looked in the 1920's.  That's Frost's grandson in the yard.  The historic house actually dates back to 1769.

Here's how the house looks today.  It is a national landmark and a museum.  I couldn't find any good interior photos, but as you can see it's as simple, humble and truly American as the man and his work.

Frost wrote some of his most important poems while residing at this farm, including Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening for which he received the first of four Pulitzer Prizes.

Whose woods these are I think I know.

His house is in the village though;

He will not see me stopping here

To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer

To stop without a farmhouse near

Between the woods and frozen lake

The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake

To ask if there is some mistake.

The only other sound's the sweep

Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost (1922)

Thanks, Mr. Frost.

Yours truly,

Clutter Diva