I once read a quote "Friends are the family you choose". How true is that? I love my friends. Of course I love my family too, I get on with them all. I think close friends hold a special place in your heart.
There is my Twisted Sister from the big smoke, the over sized metropolis, the city of many, many peoples. She flies up and house sits for us occasionally and sometimes visits us just because she can. Twisted Sister has helped me out over the years by playing Dance Mum, Scout Mum, School Mum, chief cook and bottle wash in the early days of my brain injury.
Most of all we have huge laughs. We laugh until we can no longer stand and have tears rolling down our faces. We sing badly together and we give cheek wherever possible. We also have "disagreements", just like sisters but we get over them too.
We have learnt that after two homemade cocktails it is twice as hard to open a farm gate. The bloody thing does not co-operate and when you are in a fit of giggles you cannot see the latch properly anyway. So going for a walk in the paddock is probably not a good idea at this point.
We have also learnt that two heads are
not necessarily better than one. When you have a newly acquired greyhound in the back of your station wagon and decide to pick up some dog food and throw it in with her things can become quite unpredictable. We drove for half a block and realised what we had done. OK, we remove greyhound and put the long legged, gangly girl on the back seat of the car instead. She looks very awkward and unhappy. Another short drive, maybe we should swap dog and dog food. Much better idea for Layla. We stop again and switch them. Well derr! The greyhound has a muzzle on! Does it really matter where the damn dog food is? We have to pull over now and get over our laughing fits. Meanwhile greyhound is wondering whether she was better off locked in a cage away from these nutcases.
There is my Soul Sister. We live about 15 minutes apart and work for the same company. We are freakishly in sinc with each other and often have the same thoughts or turn up wearing very similar colours in our clothing. We have shared some zany themes at our work fancy dress Christmas parties over the years and get far too carried away with our enthusiasm.
Soul Sister has also been a huge help to me over the years. She has helped with our children and myself during the early years of that ever present brain injury and still to this day offers to help, even though it is far from convenient for her. I lecture her about it but it doesn't stop her from offering.
We have set out to embarrass the children over the years and succeeded more often than not. We try to ease the transition to womanhood for the Dynamic Daughter with humour and gross-outs and that poor teenager of mine will probably need some serious counselling when she reaches adulthood. Soul Sister is considered part of the family (she has her own of course) but we are her bonus family, her extra one.
We laugh a lot and call each other good names and bad (very bad). The Soul Sister has been nagging me for years to write a book, she says she will be my agent. We joke about riding motorbikes around Australia when we retire. We come out with a lot of waffle, bulldust and songs (also sung badly). We are Soul Sisters.
There is my pSychotic Sister. Wow, where to start with this one? She has been with me through thick and thin, some very low times both hers and mine. We do not live far from each other and met at the local playgroup when our children were small. Our children have been friends for years and pSychotic Sister and I have been there for each other's children as well. This woman is amazing. She laughs (it seems to be a theme with me doesn't it?) and she cries but most of all she is an unbelievable friend. pSychotic Sister has introduced me to an amazing group of locals that have been my friends for years and the community feel around here is to be treasured.
We have had some crazy times. We have sung with our empty water bottles as microphones, we have sung at a pub when a local band called three of us up to do back-up for "Mustang Sally". I in fact just mimed because I really do sing that badly. But here is a twist, pSychotic Sister can actually sing! How did she get into this story? We have been on many picnics together, we have had Christmas Day together, camping in the bush, by the beach but our favourite place to go is the local country cemetery. We have had some great summer evenings there on the hill amongst the headstones. The view is terrific, the food way to plentiful and the wine flowing nicely.
Naturally this pSychotic Sister has been a huge help to me over the years. She has broad shoulders, fantastic listening ears and a heart that gives and gives. We are each other's sounding board. It is not unusual for one of us to ring the other and rant and rave, get something off our chest and feel so much better for it.
I have other friends who are like family. My family and I are good friends. It doesn't get much better than that. I am one lucky woman who happens to be an appalling singer. But you know the more I see people wince and cringe at my singing the more encouraged I am somehow. Encouragement is something we all need and friends and family have that responsibility and need.
