Friends

Friends.

Isn't that a wonderful word?

If you've got real ones, you know what I mean.

Let me tell you a true tale.

Late this morning, just before noon, I pulled up to Beaver Brook Country Club for the monthly Halls Business and Professional Association meeting.

After chatting with Bob Crye, Ted Hatfield, my co-worker Shannon Carey and Sue Walker (the younger), I strolled into the dining room and saw Sue Walker (the elder). Sue the Elder is Sue the Younger's aunt.

Sue (the elder) sees me, says hello and adds, "I have something for you."

Up she comes with a bag that contains an Elvis photograph souvenir album and an Elvis Christmas candy tin.

"Do you have that?" she asks of the album. "If you do, you have two."

"Nope," I say. "Sure don't.

"What did I do to deserve this?"

"Nothing," Sue says. (Which is usually what I've done to deserve any gift.) "We're friends."

Friends. What a great word.

"Open the tin," she says.

In it were individual bags of peanut brittle.

"Did you make that yourself?"

"Yep," Sue says. "I wouldn't just give you an empty tin!"

How about that, huh? I sported a smile the rest of the day.

Not bad for a Tuesday back in reality after a three-day vacation.