My Journey to Metzlingen (part one)

I run on coffee, memes, quiet afternoons, close friends,

and the occasional, much needed, ever appreciated “girls trips.”

My journey to Metzlingen has been a long one (and one I hope to enjoy for awhile).

It started with a random question from a good friend.

You know those people. Your people. The ones who know you. The ones who love you. The ones you can send a message at any time. Any day. About anything. The ones that – even though you haven’t talked to them in weeks or months – pick up the friendship right where you left off. They’ll listen. They’ll laugh with you. Cry with you. Cheer you on. Work with you. And laugh and laugh and laugh some more.

I’m quite lucky to have friends like that. I know that. Especially in the type of nomadic life that I live, moving from one house, one state, one country, to another. There’s a group of ladies – “my girls” – that are my “constants” in this world. Each one of them very much their own person, with their own schedules, lives, beliefs, challenges, heroics, families, needs, but the friendship is there. Thirty some years later, the friendship is still there.

Now that we’re all adults, we still try to get together when we can. Generally, it’s about once a year and in various places. Sometimes we actually do things, while other times we sit around, kick our feet up, and just talk for an entire weekend. The phones are away. The pictures, memories, and games come out. One of them is our “question game.” I can’t remember how this started. Maybe in college? Maybe even earlier? We’ll sit and write out discussion questions on torn pieces of paper to put in a hat and see where it goes.

On one particular trip, whilst relaxing in a lovely little house in Lancaster, PA, during one such game, the question was “What do you regret not having done?”

I listened to my friends each give their answer as they went around the circle. Thinking. Considering. And then it was my turn.

“That I haven’t written a novel.”

That really struck me. I’d been writing in one form or another since I was a child. Why hadn’t I done this?

Besides the fact that I had five little kids, I’d forgotten the joy in writing. The power in that creative release and pride in the accomplishment. I promised myself then and there that I’d give it a try.

I went home and settled back into my routine. We had an international PCS (military move) on the horizon which I had to prepare for and those five smiling little kids demanding all my time and attention. A few months later, we landed in Stuttgart, Germany. An absolute dream come true for our family. My husband went right to work and I set out to find us a place to live (besides all the other things that a move requires). Cramped into the corner of our cramped basement apartment, while the kids played in front of me, the cats snoozed beside me, and the noise of the city streets echoed outside my tilted window, I remembered my answer to that question. And I was ready.

It started with one question. One answer. One idea. One character. One scene. That led to another and another. The story of Metzlingen grew from there.

I’m eager to share more about the world of Metzlingen with you. Hope to hear from you again.

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