The packing boxes arrive tomorrow.
I’ve been squeezed in on Monday, by the lovely mechanic at the garage. The catch on my boot has gone. He fixed my last car and now he fixes my current car.
Because things happen all at once; the bath leaked. I called the plumber. We used to be work colleagues. He’s very reliable. He called me straight back even though he was busy. He asks me how Noo is and we chat about life before discussing the pool of water in the dinning room.
A friend and I were having a conversation about leaving friends. There are the ‘oak tree friends’, the ones whose lives are very much part of mine. They are sturdy and supportive. Their branches provide comfort and shade in good times and bad. Solid friendships. Saying goodbye will be hard but the roots of our friendships are deep and that will continue.
There are the people I bump into in the street, people I’ve known for years; climbers, old work colleagues, neighbours, other parents from baby groups. Familiar acquaintances that make a place my community.
The social friends. You know those relaxed dinners out? With women you’ve known for years? A collection of great women, whose lives over lap, some closer friends than others. Different friendships within a bigger group. With some there is regular contact, with others once every few months, or maybe once a year. Common themes, friends, lives, threads which make easy company. I had one of those dinners this week.
Back to the conversation with my friend. She described those familiar people at the periphery of life here as touchstones. She put it perfectly; when I move, I will lose my touchstones.
Any tips for finding new ones?