It must be an unwritten rule (or perhaps a written one, just not in the books I read) that when you’re invited to a friend’s house for dinner you should bring a bottle of something.
As it was, I had an excuse. My friend and her husband were overseas in July when the both celebrated their birthdays. So I needed to show up at their door with presents too. Wine is a good present, isn’t it? And a set of cheeseboards. It was basically a silent demand for drinkies and snacks.
Still, hanging out with old friends was a much-needed moment of relaxation after an absolute shit of a week. I am back at work in the morning, so couldn’t really drink like I was 18. But we could have a couple while we chatted and caught up. They heard the whole saga of our mortgage (which I retold as black comedy, with many gestures and swearwords). My friend regaled me with the tale of how a job she’d taken over from me had recently collapsed – which didn’t actually affect her much at all, but it seems that my old bosses are dragging one another through court. We are both still plodding along, able to pull ourselves up out of these dramas, but mostly because both our lives are in an upswing for the time being.
It was good to see them. It always is. Friends are a blessing that never fades.