We had lunch today with one of my oldest friends (not in terms of years but of acquaintance) Jean and Ken. Jean and I met at school when we were 12 and I used to go to the farm where she lived for weekends and collect banty eggs and drink fresh milk still warm from the cow — everything a new experience for a towny like me. And I always had such a welcome – like one of the family. In fact one time, after years away in Wales, Noel and I went to the farm and Jean’s Daddy, seeing us walking across the yard towards the house just says – as if he’d seen us the day before – Hello Oonah and Noel. Away in and Mary’ll get you a cup of tea and I’ll be in in a wee minute. It’s always been as if I’ve never been away every time I see Jean or her family. Alas her Daddy is dead now but I was talking to her Mammy on the phone this afternoon – 87 and she asks me how I’ve been keeping.
Jean brought me a lovely orange potted rose – I love orange roses! 🙂 I gave her a copy of PANGEA for as I told her…without my visits to their farm at Augafatten, ‘Missy’s Summer’ would not have been written. What would a towny like me know about a farm?
How many friendships can you just pick up after years and years as if nothing has changed? (Though it seems we’re all creaking a bit now) It a rare and valuable gift. It was great to catch up and it was lovely to go over old times and see more recent photos… All in all — a good day!