A stay at The Mimi Resort

In what hopefully becomes an annual tradition, JG and I took our best “couple friends” (as we affectionately call them) up for a long weekend at Mimi’s house. The wife in that duo is a nurse, and she works all sorts of odd hours, so we decided months ago that we would claim one of her open weekends and for fun like we had last year.

Going to Mimi’s house is like going to a resort. There are always homemade munchies at one’s disposal, ranging from snack mix to sesame pita chips to chive cheese dip, plus whatever Mimi whips out for happy hour. She tends bar, mixing up fuzzy navels, gin and tonics, and a Manhattan for herself, in between setting out baked brie or a platter of sharp cheese, simply because JG mentioned that he doesn’t prefer mild cheese. Mimi’s house is on a hill at the edge of what I’m told is a very nice golf course, so the only sound that interrupts the peace is a gentle ping of a club on a golf ball. We sleep in as late as we need to, and then JG or Mimi will make eggs and bacon for breakfast, which we’ll eat alongside a huge selection of bread and fruit. Mimi loves spending time with “young people,” and she can entertain without a blink of an eye, so our with her was as much fun for her as it was for us. We basically spent our time eating and laughing, which is all anyone can ask for a long weekend.

During the day, we lazed by the pool at the country club (while JG and I bested each other on flips off the diving board) and played mini golf. There was a short trip to the local mall, where Mimi found a cute pair of gray capris, and my friend and I each scored a pair of bargain gray flats. At night, we had dinner at the club, played cards at the kitchen table, and ate desserts like caramel brownies, chocolate chip cookies, and a delicious concoction of vanilla ice cream, caramel sauce, and pecans. When one of us was on the edge of beating Mimi at cards, she would narrow her eyes at us and say, “You do want to come back next year, don’t you?” By the time we pulled out of the driveway on Sunday afternoon, we were tired, but in a good way, as though we had had our fill of fun and food, and it would be excessive — nay, irresponsible — to carry on any further. Of course, if we could stay for a week (or a month!), I doubt that any of us would have protested, but we would have needed to invest in some bigger clothes, I think.

Before all of the frivolity started, our visit began in a rather dramatic fashion with an episode that will be known, henceforth, in the family annals as “Sam, the Miracle Dog (or, Don’t Worry, Sam is Fine).” Shortly after we arrived on Friday, we were having our lunch of chicken salad on croissants on the deck when we heard a thud and then groans coming from Mimi’s dog, Sam, an 18-year-old, one-eyed, arthritic Lhasa Apso. At first, I thought that Ted was bothering Sam, per usual, from his tether on a bench, but a quick scan showed that there was no sign of the old dog on the deck. Mimi peered over the railing and realized that Sam had taken a two-story fall onto the paved driveway and was lying in a twisted profile, moaning. Everyone sprinted down the steps while I held Ted back from leaping down to investigate in his own right.

Our nurse friend confirmed that Sam was still breathing, and Mimi carefully gathered her up and held her as she paced around the driveway. JG persuaded Mimi to call the vet, and when they said that they could see Sam right away, he drove her to the office. Meanwhile, the three of us cleaned up from lunch in shaky silence until JG called with the news: Sam was fine! Well, she knocked out a tooth, but she was fine in that she didn’t break any bones or have any internal bleeding. She was a little disoriented from the medication the vet gave her to sleep, but I think we were all more traumatized than she was. Thankfully, she was back to her normal self by the time we left Mimi’s yesterday, and the incident was not a bad omen for the weekend. Here’s to hoping that Sam will be knocking around Chez Mimi when we go back next summer!