When good things happen to nice people.

I have a lovely friend who I have known over fifteen years. The last decade and a half have been eventful for both of us, but we've stayed good friends throughout it all, and whenever we get together, we thoroughly enjoy each other's company. She married an absolutely wonderful guy and the four of us get along together, too -- which, when you're married, is always a good thing, because it kind of sucks when one person's spouse hates the other person. (You know, the way that Bridget's husband hates me?)

Because her employer was bought out by a bigger company in the same field, she recently ended up with no job. (Or as the delightful Brits put it, she was "made redundant.") Due to some savvy stock options, though, she had the luxury of being able to look for a job at her leisure. In fact, she spent a good part of the spring supervising the installation of the most beautiful, ginormous swimming pool (with jacuzzi, natch) I've ever seen.



Here is N., overlooking the splendor. (Yes, that is a cabana with outdoor kitchen at the other end.) And believe me when I say that there is nobody in the world who deserves this good fortune more than my friend. She is an extremely special person: kind, warm, thoughtful, generous, funny, fun...I could go on but the snarkier among you are already about to retch so I won't.




We spent last Sunday around the pool, catching up, watching the kids swim, lolling in the jacuzzi, trading gossip and laughing.

And trying to make friends with Kitty McMeowypants here.




There isn't a better way to spend a Sunday afternoon.