Two Judys

These days, life events can easily be described through a phrase from a children's book, as I am reading more of them lately to toddlers in my life. Thing One and Thing Two come to mind as I start to write about the Judys. Or, "Judy in Blue" and "Judy in Pink" is how my mind is playfully referring to them. The Judys and I stopped in a Martha's Vineyard bookstore (Yes, Martha's Vineyard in February--I know, it's a bit odd), and took some time taking in the banned books wall display.

The lovely bookstore owner told us it's a thing now, how people are going about banning Judy Blume books. They are being stolen from selves in libraries and bookstores. This is new news to us and sad as we all tried making sense of that. So, "Judy Blue" and "Judy Pink" have a louder ring in my ear that says, Yes, let's call my sweet Judy's, Judy Blue and Judy Pink.

The Judys met where they currently live, in South Carolina, and became fast friends. Judy Blue is my friend, originally from Maine, who I recently visited in South Carolina, appropriately, in January. There, I had the pleasure of meeting Judy Pink. She said like 3 sentences and excused herself to answer her phone. I don't remember what she said, but I knew in that brief encounter and told Judy Blue, "She's a keepah," in my fake Maine accent, because I am a transplant to Maine.

Judy Pink, like Judy Blue, is not from South Carolina. She's from Ohio. They are both blue in a red state. Both transplants. Two strong magnetic pulls, I have found in my history of female friendships. And for the two Judy's as well.

They are both

book lovers

and

also

puzzle

experts.

And, hold the kindest love for dogs. They have become my dog's sweethearts. I'm certain he has crushes on them both.

We are all gathered in Martha's Vineyard to visit Judy Blue at her son and daughter-in-law's summer home. When Judy Blue told me during my visit with her at home in South Carolina, that she was planning a vacation on the Vineyard, in February, I'm sure my face wrinkled in disgust. Why would anyone leave this sunny, perfect South Carolina weather, to vacation in nippy New England weather? She was so excited for her northeast friends to visit. I told her, while happily donned in shorts and a t-shirt, soaking in sixty-degree weather, far, far away from the snow back home in Maine, I would probably not be visiting her in the Cape, in the cold, in February.

But perspectives change when in Maine, looking south to Cape Cod, in February. It's 8 hours south.

8!

South!

Suddenly a visit sounds wonderful.

Off I went on the car ride from my neck of the woods, through a snow storm, into 40+, sunny weather, driving on route 3 toward Woods Hole, MA...famous (to me) for ferries and home of the production of my favorite NPR program and podcast The Moth Radio Hour. Just my dog, Tex, and me, and one too many bags. I wish I had a photo of that! The balancing act of a purse and two large, heavy bags strapped on both shoulders, while hanging on to a leash connected to a dog, pulling the daylights out of me...this pathetic, comical scene from my parked car to the ticket office, to the shuttle, to the ferry, which required running to as it was minutes to departure.

The two Judy's met me on the other end. And the very first thing we did was have lunch at The Dog Tavern. An establishment with a gritty ship wood feel to it. Maybe in the summer, it would feel as touristy as everything on the island. But in February, it's mostly just the locals. So it feels like the real-deal tavern. Just like the two Judys. Sitting across from them in the tavern, I could feel their vibe. Real deal friends.

Next, we ditched my stuff at the house, changed into warmer clothes for a walk on the beach, then topped off the day with finishing a puzzle they'd been working on. Then, while enveloped in the coziest of couches and deep into the endless entertainment on my phone, they both disappeared. Every once in a while, one would reappear with a smile and carrying something from downstairs. It never dawned on me to ask them if they needed help with whatever they were doing. They seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as I was enjoying my corner on the cozy couch. Unbeknownst to me, they were making up my bed for me, moving furniture so I'd have a nicer set of drawers for my things, making it a welcoming space for Tex and me.

Judy Blue did the same for me in South Carolina, with her guest room that housed a luxuriously soft bed and comfy chair with a blanket draped over it, that said Maine on it. Maybe that blanket is always there, to remind her of her love for Maine. But for me, it was an unspoken word of connection. Of a shared love of a place we both love. Of the place we met.

And in the guest bathroom, she made a huge jacuzzi bath look even more inviting with candles and thirsty towels.

I had to indulge.

Tex and I retired to our room downstairs and saw the fruit of their loving efforts to make me feel comfortable.

That's when I knew, I had to write about the two Judys. Who, not only share the same name and similar characteristics, and humor, and loves. They also loved making me feel loved. How could I not?