Girl time with Lois

I remember having sleepovers with my 3 best friends when I was a child. They would usually come out to the farm where the rules were lax to nonexistent and we could sneak out at night to ride in the dark, or lie in our sleeping bags under the stars and giggle till dawn. Those were great times, sharing secrets and hopes and dreams.

Then I grew up, had children, became ‘responsible’ and the girl time became more sparse but increasingly precious. There have always been friends though. Friends who were there when I needed them.
Karen Kay (author of many wonderful Native American romance novels) once agreed to mount a horse (I didn’t know she was allergic…really…didn’t even know a nose could get that red) so that we could take a picture, then alter the pic so it looked as if we were on a camel to promote our upcoming coast to coast tour. She was more than a trooper. I try to be the same when my friends are in need.
A couple years ago, one of them called out of the blue after several months of silence to ask for help in leaving her husband. She was going to her house to collect stuff and needed a lookout. Knowing her husband, Duke, (No kidding. That was his name.) I asked if he had a gun. Her assurance that he was legally prohibited from owning a firearm didn’t make me feel much better. But I there for her. She gathered her things and never looked back. Gritty girl time, maybe, but girl time just the same.

On the receiving end, my daughter was born in May 18 years ago. I had endured a long Minnesota winter compounded by a somewhat worrisome pregnancy and by the time I brought baby home I was desperately in need of a friend and fresh air. So I called Mary. She was there in a heartbeat, brushing horses, talking a mile a minute. Maybe she wasn’t aware that I planned to bring baby with me on our ride, but when she saw 5 day old Tara snuggled into my little front carrier, she swallowed her objections and saddled up. Unfortunately, the steady mount I’d been riding for more than 10 years decided to take that particular day to lie down in the middle of the trail for no good reason. Everything turned out fine, but at that point even Mary had had enough and sensibly insisted that I ‘take that baby home right now.’ Still she was there for me. Willing, game, supportive.

I can’t even remember all the times I complained to her about my mounting literary rejections, my sleepless nights as a new mother, my myriad worries. But she always listened. While we allowed our horses to meander down the local park trails, we’d take turns talking. She would vent for twenty minutes about boyfriends and work, and I’d do the same about my problems. It was wonderful. Therapeutic. Unforgettable. Then my kids grew older, needed more of my attention, and I lost touch with many of my girlfriends.
But now, as the house empties, I find I have time for them again. Recently Colleen, an old friend with whom I’ve reconnected, agreed to ride in tandem bareback classes with me. It’s a ridiculous event involving one horse, two riders and identical costumes…and we’re having a ball.

It’s funny, although I write ‘relationship’ books and wax romantic about bulging biceps and sardonic grins, I find I generally prefer the company of women. They’re fun and empathetic, and you don’t need to use bowls when you eat ice cream.

So how about you? Do you have memories of girl time that warms your heart and lightens your mood? Or is hanging with the boys more your idea of a good time?