There was the Spice Girls. We are the Spicy Sisters. This past weekend was our annual sister/sister-in-law weekend. I joined the group Friday at dinner, but most of the gang was there for 24 hours already. You know how spice intensifies as it is left to simmer and meld. Yup, that had already happened. I drove in all fresh faced and excited for the weekend, but the rest of them had already spiced up. I was warned early on, “Don’t play Rumikub with Catherine. She’s super spicy.” Apparently, Catherine was threatening to enforce the rule of one minute per turn, since people were taking too long. In Catherine’s defense, we do take too long. And the rule is one minute. And if you don’t play Rumikub, you should. It’s like Rummy, but with tiles. 

Essentially, we gather six ladies with the same genetic make-up, and three ladies who married people of that genetic make-up together in a house (this year sisters-in-law numbers were down). Pour on a little bad weather, and voila, the Spicy Sisters. Now, you may think that the sisters-in-law have a tolerance for our personalities since they married our brothers, but you would be wrong. We’ve each been married for 30+ years (Phil’s wife Mel couldn’t make it and they’ve only been married 26 years… like newlyweds). My sisters-in-law are aware of our faults, may be tired of them, and can exploit them. So, even Rumikub can get exciting. You could hear, “Hey! If you can’t put back the 20 tiles you just rearranged to get rid of your orange 4, which didn’t work, then you forfeit the game. And do you even know what one minute is?” Wait, I may have said that. 

We usually have our weekend in September, but rescheduled because we lost my nephew near our planned weekend. And my sister Teresa may have needed our spicy kind of sisterly love more than anyone else. It’s like a dose of home, Weizeorick style, before she goes back to Denver. Next year, we will go back to September. The weather is usually so much nicer. And the spicy can be diffused in the Michigan breeze while we spend time outside.

We rented the same house for nearly 20 years, but during covid, they stopped weekend rentals because the cleaning requirements were too steep, and they never started them back up. Then, we rented from a friend, but they added an in-ground pool and have out-priced us. Now we are bouncing around a bit. This house had character. With addition after addition, there were three bedrooms that strung together with no hallway. To get to the last bedroom, you had to walk through the first two. There were two normal bedrooms, and a basement, along with three full baths (a must). Since I was the second to last to arrive, I got the bed by the bathroom door. I don’t know how many of you have traveled with a group of middle-aged women recently, but we frequently go to the bathroom at night. And I sleep lightly. And I wasn’t in my own bed, so I slept even lighter. I think there was a conveyor belt to the bathroom all… night… long. Finally, I had to go too. I looked at the bathroom door and it was ringed in light. Shoot! Someone was in there. I waited and waited about 15 minutes, looking at the closed door. Seriously, are they showering at 3am? Then I decided that I could knock on the door. Maybe they fell asleep on the toilet. Come to discover, the nightlight was casting the light around the nearly closed door. It was empty the whole time. 

It was a weekend of laughter, good food, wine, and hugs. My heart is reset and I can go back to work refreshed… at least for the first day. And we sent my sister back to Denver, hoping she knows that we got her. She is our pack, with spice and love. We cannot heal her broken heart, but we love her, even if you have to fight the spice to see it. 

Have a great week everyone. Love fiercely in your own way. It works for us.