I had a friend who practised a pleasantly strange habit: when she visited she'd take the opportunity to liberate a tin of food from my larder and hide it someplace in my house. If I was in the bathroom she snapped into action. Weeks or months later I'd find a tin of smoked oysters behind the row of motor oil bottles in the closet; I'd smile with delight, knowing how that oddment got there, remembering her care and affection for me. The tentacles of love reach out in amazing ways.
I think I now which buddy that is.
Alicia hides notes everywhere in my luggage when I go away to this lonely, dysfunctional job. It’s always a joy to find them.
Head to the hills Tom, when you can. It’s always been your best therapy.
Love you my brother.
We are both so fortunate to have such caring people in our lives.
Life has truly become fodder for daily therapy and self betterment. But yeah, to the hills I will go come April. Can’t wait.
Love you too, Kent.
I had a friend who practised a pleasantly strange habit: when she visited she'd take the opportunity to liberate a tin of food from my larder and hide it someplace in my house. If I was in the bathroom she snapped into action. Weeks or months later I'd find a tin of smoked oysters behind the row of motor oil bottles in the closet; I'd smile with delight, knowing how that oddment got there, remembering her care and affection for me. The tentacles of love reach out in amazing ways.
Oh wow. This is truly heartwarming. Thanks for sharing, David!