a walk with the girls (lyn)

I’ve not been going on many early morning walks this summer, but today I do, remembering the many slices of onion pizza I ate last night at Charlies in Buzzards Bay (among the best I’ve had anywhere).

My mom leaves at 6:40, and wakes me before going.  She’s meeting the girls, her friends June and Dorothy, 75 and 78 respectively. I slip on a pair of running shorts, sports bra, old T-shirt, sneakers and shoes, put my hair up in a pony tail, wash my face, brush my teeth, and within 10 minutes, I’m out the door.

Last year when I was here I bought two pair of running shorts, from the previous year’s Falmouth Road Race.  So instead of saying 2009, the logo read 2008, and the price dropped from $20 to $5. .  I bought an Extra Large, both in grey and royal blue.  They were made by New Balance, and were the best deal of the summer.  When I tried them on this past spring, they of course didn’t fit, so I sent them to my mom along with some other clothes.  They didn’t fit her either, so she passed them along to my brother-in-law.  This year, there was no such deal, as the 2009 shorts sold out last summer.

I like the early mornings here.  A lot of people are already out jogging, bike riding, or walking their dogs.  The birds are happily chirping.  And today, the sun is out, promising another beautiful beach day.

I catch up with the girls.  They are already in mid conversation, discussing their grandkids.  Not in, “my grandkids are so amazing,” or “listen to what Ava did?”, but far more intriguing stuff.  For example, one has a daughter who lives in LA, and is head writer for a top five TV show.  She has two kids (a boy and a girl) with her ex-partner, and they share custody...four days with one and three days with the other one week, and the reverse the next week.  The arrangement works well for everyone.  The older child, a girl, is looking at boarding schools in New England.  So the discussion this morning is about the impact this might have on the boy, who would continue living in LA.  My mother and her friends are all interesting, contemporary women, and their conversations reflect it.

As we are walking, June asks, “So Linder, did you get your shots this year?”  I have no idea what she is talking about.  “My shots?” I query.  “”Yes, like the ones you got last year?”  The only shot I got last year was a flu shot and I doubt J is referring to that.

My mom interprets.  “Shorts,” she says, “from the Road Race.”

Perhaps Alexander can claim fluency in understanding a foreign language on his college applications.