New Year's Eve Peach Margarita

The last time I saw my friend D we spent a lovely evening at the St. Paul Hotel assessing our milestones for 2011 and listing our goals for 2012. We sail different ships but, occasionally,on a blessed day such as the last one, we end up in the same harbor, drawing inspiration from each other's fantasies and dreams. She talks about living in a RV and then the next day I walk by the perfect Vanagon with a for sale sign in the window. Immediately, I am drawn into the fantasy of traveling up and down the Sonoma coast with my laptop and a lapdog, writing and camping, drinking peach margaritas in front of a crackling fire on the beach. Or spending the day walking in the redwoods of Armstrong woods. We compare notes on the health of our aging mothers. Hers still has a daily gin martini. Mine has been sober for almost 30 years. It is a blessing that her daughter has settled, at least for the moment, in St. Paul and that is the motivation for her frequent trips to the Metro area. For myself, I avoid St. Paul like a doctor's waiting room during the flu season. My immune system is strong and I tend to not get sick easily. None the less, I do not seek out opportunities to expose myself to risk. Not to imply that St. Paul is contagious in any way. It simply isn't on my list of places I go without strong motivation, such as meeting a like-minded friend. And while I may not ask for her opinion straight up, I am always interested in her creative and frequently inspiring opinions. And I love the dreams of field trips to visit a newly married K in the summer.  And I plan to drink plenty of Peach Margaritas before, during and after...