A long time ago, one of my friends told me a story about how she only had five friends. We laughed at the time, but as the years passed I began to think that perhaps that was about right. We know more people than that of course, and we often have friends for various activities in our lives: the exercise friend, the straight-talking friend, the partying friend, but really, when you think of the people in this world who really have your back, the ones who know all about you, and somehow still like you anyway, there’s only a handful, isn’t there? Five, six, maybe eight tops.

Last year one of my top five died. You RRs know her by now of course, but if you’re new here, her name was Hayley and she bloody lit up the room whenever she entered. I wish you could’ve met her. She called my on my nonsense and she somehow knew just what to say to lift me up, no matter what the cause. A friend like that is rare and valuable. If you have one, cherish the fuck out of them. Because you are lucky.

So, in many of our long languid Queensland days, where we would chat and laugh for what felt like forever (we thought it would last forever, why couldn’t it last forever, dammit?), we named our top five, and, just for fun (and because we were sometimes assholes) we ranked them in order.

I was Hayley’s third best friend, and there was always much banter around that. I would joke of how I would knock Number One and Two off their perches one day.

But my friend Hayley died, and I never got the chance.

So now the rankings are set in stone, forevermore.

A little while ago BabyMac ran a competition for a gorgeous Uberkate silver banner necklace, stamped with the words of your choice. On a particularly grievish day I entered, boring poor Beth with the story of my sadness, yet one more time. I wanted to win so badly I even pulled out the Jamie Oliver card- sending her a pic of all three of us girls; Numbers One, Two and Three, and Jamie, relegated to a zero these days, with no Hayley around to shuffle the rankings.

And because Beth has a heart that is as kind and as sweet and full of substance as an Anne Cake, she let me win.

So the rankings shall stay as they are: Carlsy (and James, yes I know, you are 1b Jamesey), Jo and I. And now we have necklaces to prove it.

They don’t fix anything.

In fact, they might make things a little worse for a time. Because in wearing them, we recall our missing friend even more. The heft of it pressing on the sternum makes it a little hard to breathe at times. Perhaps it is heavier than it’s actual weight. It feels like it. But after a while, I hope it will get lighter, or perhaps I will adapt to the feeling.

I’m not sure if I want to.

And people will probably be attracted to it’s lustre. They will read the words, and they may ask what it means. And I will be able to tell them about my friend, talk her back into the world a little, make a space for her in the days that go on, even though she does not.

Lest we forget.

They are beautiful and shiny and bright, these necklaces. I am grateful to Beth and to Kate for them.

They reflect the light in a way that reminds me of my friend.

…From The Ashers

Here are the hits of the week…

1.  Booking tix to go to the US for Christmas. This it the first Chrissy we will all have together since my Dad was crook, and almost gone. It was lucky thing to have us all together like that, but it was a horrid time. Watching him deteriorate day by day by day. This time there will be no impending death. Just laughs and bad Christmas sweaters. Bittersweet times. Bitter and Sweet. In equal measure.

2.  The big fuck-off bowls of pasta Nath has ready for me after I finish my late nights at work. They’re bloody big and bloody good. Just what the Doctor ordered. Thanks Nato. You rock.

3.  These grouse new cushions from Alisa of Plump Homewares. Not only has she donated a shitload of fabric for my Softie Sew-a-thon Wednesday (7-9pm at Noosa Christian Outreach centre if you are a local), but she gifted me two of these cushions today. What a legend. How fresh are they? You can visit her at Eumundi Markets every Wednesday and Saturday, or shop online here. She has a brand new range coming out this Saturday- go check it out.  *Not a sponsored post, but she did give me these cushions for nix. (She meant them as a gift, not as a blog post.)

4.  The hottest weekend in the world (well in my part of the world anyway) scheduled for Friday and Saturday. I’ll be spending a fair bit of it safetly ensconced in this seat, looking at this. Hopefully with a couple of small people, and one big one in the pic too. Weekend,  you’re looking good from here….

How’s the serenity?

5.  A special delivery I got from Uberkate this week. I can’t tell you much more just yet, as it’s a surprise, but let me tell you the lady doesn’t disappoint. Thanks Kate, and thanks BabyMac. May lovely things come your way. You are both such beautiful people. I’m grateful for you. And I promise pics will be posted once the cat is out of the bag.

**This is not a sponsored post either; I won a competition. But I do want to share that I saw on Uberkate’s website that if you spend 250 smackers you get a free ring. Good incentive for a Chrissy gift with some meaning, I reckon. Love your work Kate.

So what were your hits of the week? Do you have plans for Christmas yet?

…From The Ashers

I was all over the place today.  Crying and not crying.  A throat full of burning lumps like held-back vomit.  Eyes hot and sandpapery.  And that feeling, the heavy-tight feeling, clenching the suboccipital muscles into bundles of gristle, with that impending sense of doom.  But the doom wasn’t impending.  The thing of dreadful fear had already happened.  Still, it was hard to fully inflate my lungs.

I called on BabyMac to find a perfect birthday cake to bake for my friend, ‘cos BabyMac knows a thing or two about sucking the good stuff outa life.

The cake is called Anne.  She’s big and sweet and full of goodness.  Four eggs from happy chooks.  Lashings of magnificent butter worth it’s weight in gold (no, really, it costs the same as gold).  And a shit load of sugar.  My mate would have loved Anne.  Anne has quite a heft about her.  She’s not for the faint of heart.  And my friend was not faint-hearted.  She was a tough bugger.  And she didn’t mind a cake.

So I baked Anne, and I shared her around.  I gave some to my family, some to my neighbours and some to a gorgeous friend.  I didn’t tell them why I’d given them some Anne to feast on, but they sent me back loving messages, and pictures, just the same.  Anne is that kind of cake.  She makes an impact, and I think she likes to get around a bit.  Anne likes making people smile, making them rub their bellies, and push back their chairs as they lick her last crumbs off their plate.  Anne reminds us of what it’s like to be alive, and nourished, under this big wide sky of potential.  Anne reminds us to savour all of the flavours of life, to taste as many different things as we can, and to devour every last morsel.

Turns out, Anne is a lot like my friend.  I think they would have liked each other.

Happy Birthday Hayls.  I saved you a bit of Anne. Bon Apps.

…From The Ashers xx

I am writing this blog through tears.

Tears of happysadsurprisejoy.  I’m just so touched.

As you have probably gathered by now, I live a fair bit of my life in my own head, and by extension, on the internet.  Being a blog subscriber, twitter follower, instagram poster and facebook friend suits someone like me.  I like to have opinions, and then force gently express those ideas to others.  So commenting on posts, and then eventually writing a blog is a natural fit for me.  I can rant and rave, wail and keen, judge and laugh, and then press “publish”.  Much cheaper than therapy, and easier than alienating everyone I know IRL with my nonsense.

So you probably heard my mate died four weeks ago.  Those weeks are a bit of a blur.  I know I carried on a fair bit, on this, my little home on the interwebs, and probably a lot more on the other Soc’s.

Three weeks ago, a wonderful chick I follow, BabyMacBeth posted a pic on Insta of a teapot, with the caption “KirstiMelville this is for you x”.   It was the day of Hayley’s funeral.

Hayley loved teapots and, as she would say, “cutesy” things.  Hayley also loved BabyMac.  We would often talk about  BabyMac’s recipes, and her warm and comfy blog, where it’s all: sit down, put up your feet, pour yourself a cuppa and lets have a chat.  We loved BabyMac’s blog, and we thought that maybe we would do some blogging together, Hayls and I.  She could do the recipes and the food styling, and I could write some stuff.  I dunno what, being a culinary bogan and all, but I thought I could knock something together.

So when Beth posted the pic, of a teapot that is a bit similar to a teapot I once bought Hayls, I got right on and hijacked the photo that was meant for Kirsti.  I said “My friend Hayley who loved you Beth and collected teapots would have adored that pic.  It’s her funeral today.  I’m looking at that with tears and thinking of all the cuppas we shared, and all the ones we now won’t.”

Beth and Kirsti and FauxFushsia were gracious and caring and said they would raise their teacups to Hayls that day.  I’m a bit embarrassed that I did that now, butted in and put my own grief onto a post that was meant for someone else.  To be honest I hardly even remember doing it, such was the cottonwool of my brain that day.

Then today something unexpected arrived in the post for me.

I can hardly believe it.

If I was BabyMac, I would say: Have you EVER?

A teapot.  With a cosy.   And a touching note from Beth.  A person I have never met, in real life.  My heart doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry, and my eyes are saying, “do both, do both”.  My brain is overcome with the happy-sadness of a lost friend and the kindness of a stranger.  Someone who doesn’t know me, but who I feel I know.

This teapot is a teapot for one.  I will drink from it tonight, and think of my one.  The one that I could say my things to, plan my bits with, think out loud with, and laugh until I feared I might let out a little bit of wee with.  I miss you Hayls.  And BabyMac?  Words just can’t explain.  That teapot has broken and mended my heart.

So cutesy.