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Archive for the ‘Friends’ Category

#16 of Blogging with Friends

My latest Blogging with Friends topic is to talk about a time when a personal prejudice was proven completely wrong. I’m not often wrong (ask my husband), but I’m happy to admit when I am!

I have a friend who, when I first met her, was both both pretty and confident. I was immediately distrustful, prejudiced against her because of her beauty and her confidence; neither of these were qualities I possessed. We got thrown together at work, and I realised how wrong I had been.

She’s someone who isn’t as confident as I assume (though she still has plenty of confidence). But she has a quality that makes you always feel as if she is pleased to see you, and that she enjoys being in your company. I wrote this in my 365 blogging project in 2007:

“Tall, gorgeous and glamorous, effortlessly charming. I almost wanted to dislike you at first, but found it impossible! A friend who always makes me feel better about myself, and always sounds pleased to see me. …”

That quality makes her far more beautiful than good looks. I learned not to judge someone on their personal appearance. And I’m pleased to say that we have been friends for over 20 years.

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Saying good-bye

What a difference a week makes. Instead of writing of a happy, if bedraggled, group of family and friends on the olive grove, today I am writing of some of the same people, on a similarly gloomy day, gathering at a local cemetery chapel, farewelling my olive-owning friend’s father.

The mood was sombre, but the service was intimate, personal, full of love and loss. I had pulled myself out of bed, drugged up, and rugged up against the cold, to support my friend, and if I had not been feeling so ill (and had been much less infectious), I would have attended the wake to support her there too.

Whilst a funeral service is the formal part of the farewell, the wake is where the mood usually* lifts, when people relax after the formalities, and chat about their relationships with the person who has gone. In doing so, they fortify the family and friends who are left grieving, and remind them of the good memories, the ones – in my experience so far – that last the longest.

I have to say that I enjoyed the wakes of both my parents – seeing all the people who came to pay their respects and to support us, the people who helped make my parents’ lives what they were, and who helped make my life what it has been too. I hope our friends found this today too.

 

*  at least, this is the case when it is not unexpected, and when the person has gone peacefully, perhaps after a long illness

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Yesterday we got up early (for a Saturday), filled the car with essentials, and headed off, out of the city and up the valley where the Hutt River skirts the highway, its willows rapidly losing all their leaves, into the countryside. It was a gloomy, dark morning, and the rain that was forecast later in the day seemed to have arrived early – it was light, almost misty, and we hoped it would be different at our destination.

We passed the tempting $10 Breakfast sign at the café at the bottom of the hill, tempted to stop for bacon and eggs and a decent coffee, thinking about texting our friends to say we might just be half an hour late. But we didn’t, and we drove up into the winding Rimutakas, up into the cloud, and then dropped back into the Wairarapa beyond, a bit perturbed to find that the weather was no better, and maybe even worse.

We arrived at Alders, site of previous adventures in better weather, where we were due to help our friends harvest their olives. The sight of Peony and her bedraggled sister, both soaked through, supported my decision to bring my bought-for-Iceland-and-previously-only-ever-worn-there rain pants, grateful for my bought-for-Iceland-but-perfect-in many-places fleece and rain jacket, and pleased that my husband had thought to bring our gumboots (and later even more pleased he unwittingly gave me the pair without the hole in the sole).

Our hosts/overseers had thoughtfully provided gloves and plenty of purpose-bought rakes that easily strip the olives from the branches, and we stuck into the work, getting wet not so much from the rain which eased off and just turned to mist, but from the very wet olive trees, and only slightly hampered by steamed-up glasses. With a very efficient crew of workers this year, and even though the trees are so much bigger than when we first went about seven or eight years ago, it was only a few quick hours later that we were told they had enough olives (8-900 kgs or a ton), and sodden, we retreated back to the house to dry off, grateful for the wine, hearty lunch of Indian dahls and curries, and cheerful conversation after a job well done.

Previous olive harvest posts here and here.

 

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