Good friends- better than pocket money

Oh how I look to the hills of Zion, from whence cometh my joy.

I was in a state of depression yesterday. I was just missing yard.

Talked to Imelda#2 last night for a long time, and at the end of the conversation, she had me laughing, feeling like misself again, and even arguing about politics. Hence the title of the post- good friends better than pocket money.

My friend Imelda#2 would be considered and approved for sainthood if she were catholic. A more noble person, with a more genuine heart cannot be found. My prayer for her is that she is filled with the joy that she passes on to those she meet and that she will find a knight worthy of saving her from sitting in a rocking chair with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the others, chatting with me (with my hands holding the same) and we contemplate in our geriatric state, exactly where we placed our dentures.

I am blessed.

Inspite of the wanton loneliness and longing for the comforts of home, especially on a weekend, I am truly blessed.

It is a blessing to be somewhere new. To see life with a fresh set of eyes, and never forget that which you have temporarily left behind.

I still remember waking up groggy and going into the kitchen finding her fully dressed, after having a second cup of coffee, reading the days local and international news from 5am, and on her second round of her magnanimous baking enterprise.

I am happy that she will be finally able to meet the Gent of the Kitchen and that they will be here together at least for a few days. That means dinner AND dessert! Yes, I take my stomach with me wherever I go.

I have Guyanese neighbours (really nice country hearted Caribbean people) who took some homemade curry chicken roti over today for lunch for me and my neighbour. After blessing it, (precaution better than cure) we partook the best roti I have had in years!

It was absolutely delicious!

I have to find a way to return the favour soon.

But I miss Imelda, and mi Heartstring Cousin, and mi modda (who would have had my place as clean as a whistle), and even my sisters. I miss my daddy and my lil brothers and my Drummer Friend. And I miss Imelda's family dinner.

I look forward to having her here, even if its only for a week, so we can show this place just how it's done!

Longing and hoping and dreaming but coping,

Me.