While cleaning out my recipe file last week, I came across this half-folder sheet. This was part of my recipe folder, back in another life, with a different man and a different name.

When the folder disintegrated, I saved this half. On it are two improvised recipes and a few names and addresses. I don't think I ever made that spaghetti recipe again. The other is a recipe for a single serving margarita, which I made up.

More on that later.

And even though I flip past the folder-half every time I rifle through my recipe folder, I haven't looked at it closely, in years.

Also on this folder are a couple of names and addresses of two of my best friends from high school. After graduation, I went to college and they got jobs and an apartment together. On Good Friday of my sophomore year in college, I stopped by for a visit, which I usually did when I was home. On this visit they sat me down and, well, they broke up with me. They asked me not to come around anymore. We were traveling differents paths, blah blah.

I, of course, was crushed. I was never a "large pack-o-friends" person, and only kept company with those whose company meant something.

Anyway.

After the "breakup", I never called them again and over the years they both married and moved. So, when I was putting together addresses for our 10 year class reunion, I had to get their addresses from an outside source. Evidently this source called me while I was working in the kitchen, and that's why the addresses are on the folder.

Fast Forward
So, this weekend I am being visited upon by a fine contingency of friends I met last September in Lansing.

On the weekend agenda are dinners, yarn crawls, and tonight, Margaritas and knitting at Chez Porcine. ::I should SOOO not be blogging right now. I took a Personal Day to prepare. So far, I've had some coffee and checked my work email. Twice.::

After researching Margarita recipes on line, last night I sent Cabana to the store for supplies so we could take a practice run. After trying one recipe that didn't taste so good, I remembered the etchings of my single serving recipe, on my filthy old folder page. And it was, well, yum.

The other cool thing is that I ran into one of those old friends at my class reunion last year and we had a good talk. She was the one I was supposed to call in 2007, but didn't. I had written her number on a tiny tab of paper, then zipped it up nice and safe, in my change purse. Last time I checked on it ::around Christmas::, it was gone. She's lived in the same place all these years, so the number on the folder is curent. No more excuses.

I think I thought I had some kind of cool serendipity going here, but now I'm getting kind of anxious about getting the house clean and had a suddenly intrusive urge to check for boogers on the wall.

p.s. I'm not checking my work here, Cabana is putting in much effort on behalf of my gathering and I'm suddenly feeling guilty and needing to go.