My friend from the northern part of Australia came to visit me yesterday. I think the last time I saw her was when we were about 15, and I remembered that she had had glandular fever back then. (So why can't I remember the 3 things I need at the chemist??) Memories are really bizarre things. And a huge amount of fun too.
So, meet my friend, Jen.
I have said this before - I love catching up with old friends, and for whatever reason, there is never a pause in the chatter, a silence. There is too much to talk about. Stories to listen to. Memories to share. From bright green cream soda drinks at Saturday morning tennis lessons with Leon Norgarb, to the fascination with long hair. To little sisters, and to the adventures which led us to strange places on the globe.
And yet, the connection stays. Two of our daughters - Jen has 2, were born 3 days apart. They are the epitome of the next generation of explorers for us. Her girl lives in the UK. Just as mine lived in NZ. And that daughter of mine baked a world class quiche for us and prepared a feast for lunch. Jen only had a few hours, but an awful lot was packed into those few hours, believe me.
And then I took her back to the station so she could return down south. There is a little grandgirlie for her to cuddle back there! But there will be a next time, and we will pick up again, just where we left off, once more.
It was a delight to see her again.
(Insert happy smile)
You want to see that cupboard?
I still have some moving about to sort out, but it is in the room. This is a good thing. The small side is shelves and the large side is hanging space, with a top shelf.
I picked some roses before the storms came. And they are starting to look wonderful inside. It is always such a pity to see them pattered and bashed by the vagaries of the weather.
The lilies, on the other hand, are made of sterner stuff!
You see that calm and serene photo of Jen and me up there? You have NO idea how many had to be taken before we got one reasonable one. All those ones we would never put out there for the world to see.
What the heck - here we are after my daughter, the photographer and chef, asked us to try to look a little less "simple". There was a deathly hush and then we cried with laughter, as in could not breathe and the tears flowed down the cheeks. Oh my sainted aunt.
I am wearing purple.
I am that kind of age.
Crying with laughter and washing away the make-up goes with the territory.
We are interesting women. Nothing simple about us at all.........