Just over one year ago, I posted “The Gail Experience.” (June 12th, 2022.) I traveled to Gail’s house with a friend who had never been here before. For her, then, it was a new experience. I have been here more times than have I counted, and while it is not new, it never fails to stir my soul and refresh my spirit.

On Wednesday of this week, I once again arrived at Gail’s house. As a self-employed speech therapist/writer/auctioneer, I have considerable latitude in my scheduling, and I took advantage of that this week. I wish Suzanne could have absconded as well, but it wasn’t meant to be. I took off after Wednesday morning’s tasks, and arrived here just in time to greet Gail as she finished her workday. Her workdays are typically much longer than mine, what with her two full-time jobs and several side gigs, but she always makes time for family, fun, food and festivities, all of which we enjoyed.

Gail’s daughter Lydia (center) joined us for pizza Thursday evening and our friends Mary and Cin-Cin (left) were able to meet us as well on the patio at Legends Bar and Grill. Managing this establishment is one of her undertakings. This is, of course, on top of her other full-time job. (Mary and Cin-Cin were the two dear friends who accompanied me to the top of Pike’s Peak on March 4th (Closer to Heaven, March 5th, 2023).

While I did work at a pizza place in college, and I waited tables about 30 years ago, it had been that long since I had worked in a restaurant. Gail and Lydia were scheduled for Saturday lunch, so I lent them a hand. I mostly helped Gail in the kitchen, but I even took a few orders and delivered a few meals. I was a little rusty and a bit slower than before, but I hadn’t forgotten how to do any of it.

After pizza Thursday evening, we joined “Buzzy,” the almost-90-year-old local legend on his porch for “Thirsty Thursday,” his weekly gathering when the weather allows. Because the night before was Flag Day, we also gathered on his porch Wednesday evening for yet another reason to celebrate. We should all take lessons from Buzzy on how to continue to celebrate occasions large and small, no matter our age.

His eyes are usually much brighter than this picture shows, but it was the only one we took…

Recall that learning to knit was something I checked off my bucket list in January. However, I have struggled to remember the stitches, and frustration led me to chuck it and tuck it away for awhile. I brought it along, thinking surely one of Gail’s friends would be able to help me. Cin-Cin indeed is a knitter, and try as she might, I once again tucked it away. I realize we look like the two old ladies that we are, knitting with our laps covered with blankets, but we had just come in from the cool evening and retreated to Camp Gail, the spot our six annual pictures at the beginning of each post are taken in while we are there for Thanksgiving.

It was indeed a getaway. I read, relaxed, retreated and revived my spirit. This is all easy to do at Gail’s house. Visiting with my sister and her friends, who are now my friends, is good for my soul.

I also did some writing. As I began this blog on Friday, June 16th, that date was swimming around in my head as something important to remember. Then I did remember: the maiden post of The Sister Lode, titled simply The Sister Lode (June 16th, 2017), was posted six years ago on this date. Now, 187 posts later, I am celebrating this small, but significant anniversary. Thank you to each and every reader who has read any or all of my posts.

Today, June 18th, is Father’s Day. I returned home to celebrate with my husband, who blessed me with our sons. Of course, on Father’s Day, we remember our Dad. Most of our memories of Father’s Day with him were in the wheat field. This year, our brothers report that harvest will be minimal due to very little rain in the crucial earlier months. It has not yet commenced, but I am hoping for my annual trip to the harvest field.

This is my son with Dad in the combine when he was about five. While I look very much like my mother, my firstborn son bears a striking resemblance to my dad in his younger pictures.

My “Gail Getaway” was every bit as relaxing as I’d hoped. Just now, as I am typing, a friend who knows Gail sent me a text. “I hope you had a good ‘Gail-away.’ Indeed I did. Life is always good at Gail’s house.

This post is dedicated to all fathers, but especially to anyone who has recently lost their father and is struggling mightily ,and to those fathers who have lost their children. Our hearts break for you.