Horrors

 

"Laughter is an instant vacation." Milton Berle 

This weekend, my friend Pauline booked the Three Musketeers from high school--me and her and our friend Buns-into a boutique hotel called Adventure Suites in New Hampshire. Originally set up in the 80s as a "hot tub haven," the location morphed a variety of theme rooms (The Jungle, The Cave, the Treehouse). Her and her long-time boyfriend John have been going for ten years, and wanted to pull off the big lebewski--The Haunted Castle-with the old gang, along with our partners and kids. 

It was a threesome of another sorts, as well: given that there were 12 of us and only three bedrooms, Pauline had to divide the group up, and moved me and Corb in with Josie and Buns. I found this amusing, because it meant that I would be spending the night with my husband, my ex-wife, and my girlfriend from high school. And all three of them would be wearing CPAP machines to get through the night. I wouldn't blame you if you think that sounds like the start of a middle-age porn flick.

The booking was pricey, but not sure you can put a price on some more hang time with a group of folks we have been spending summer vacations with for almost 40 years.

Pauline, Buns and I have been summer vacationing together since we were in college. Our first trip was to New Hampshire, when she was dating Doug, and we drove up that first year reading stories about the adventures of Love Lips. We were so innocent back then. The story we were reading wasn't.

Through the years, we've rented beach houses on the Cape, houses in Vermont, campgrounds in Maine, and now, boutique hotels in New Hampshire, and have seen friends move in and out of our lives, partners change and evolve, and our kids grow up--and through it all, managed to stay friends. 

Pauline got choked up talking about it this morning, and I totally understand why. That kind of bond is hard to maintain through the years. My brother has a similar bond with a group of five guys who he goes to Block Island with every year. I guess it's genetic.

The place itself was great--fairly pricey, but the space was huge and filled with ghostly scares that had people screaming all night long. It also had a huge hot tub for six and a restaurant on site, although honestly, the food wasn't amazing, the drinks were! I had a delicious peanut butter martini. Around midnight, there was one big blast of scary, but things kind of settled down (although...there were a few additional scares at around three in the morning. Of course.) 

"I always forget how much I like getting away," Corb said, as we taking the three hour return ride home this afternoon. 

"We were not looking forward to this yesterday morning," I replied, putting down my phone. "I was so depressed in bed. Thinking about how much needed to get done around the house, and how this interfered. But I am awfully glad we went."

"We need to do more of it."

"Yes, agreed, except for the heavy meals. I like travel, I like new locations, I like fun martinis. The heavy meals, I can do without nowadays," I fussed.

Corb nodded. "What about the Polar Caves in a few weeks?" 

The Polar Caves! Then and there, we set about planning our next set of adventures. Something that always makes me happy. It's been an exhausting, happy weekend.

The older I get, the more I learn how important long-term connections and new adventures are.