The Measure of Friendship

Feb 21, 2013 | 3 comments

Three Out Of FourIn most circumstances, I’d be the first to say that there is no way to measure friendship.  And why would you want to, anyway?  Like all the best things of life – the fleeting sunrise, the smell of honeysuckle, the starry-eyed feeling of first love – there is no cause to quantify.  It is what it is.

But, last evening I had second thoughts about that.  And I just couldn’t help but think in terms of buckets.  Buckets of chicken poop, actually.  How often does someone offer, out of the blue, to come and clean out your chicken coop?  To us backyard chicken farmers, that was huge!  Especially when the Chief Chicken Farmer is incapacitated and his Number One Assistant is a bit inept in the Physical Capability Department.

Our friend Erik, also a chicken owner, arrived with work gloves, bucket, shovel, fresh shavings and I don’t know what all and went to work.  But not until he had set up his little portable barbecue and fired it up.  He took care of the chickens while it was still light and then turned his attention to steaks for four.

Pat and ErikMeanwhile, the other half of the team, beautiful Pat, was sautéing onions and mushrooms, unpacking a green salad and a potato salad (her grandmother’s recipe), and providing cheese-and-cracker snacks for starters.  I had only to set the table and find a serving spoon or two.  Talk about being spoiled!

There was a steak for each of us, done to perfection and Pat’s “trimmings” were spectacular.  But it was the conversation and the laughter and the caring that filled our hearts.  It was an evening to remember.  I’m sorry I didn’t think to take a picture or two.  I guess I was too busy being overwhelmed.

3 Comments

  1. Nancy

    Friends bring food, first soup and cornbread, then steaks, “trimmings” and “chicken care”…you are truly blessed. I will spend time today, considering my dear friends.

    Reply
  2. sandy stonebreaker

    I was worried when you said Eric set up the BBQ. I thought maybe one of the ladies was going to meet her demise.
    And, anyone who will clean chicken coops is INDEED a true friend.
    (That was my Sat. chore growing up. I declared after that I would never own chickens…and I haven’t.

    Reply
  3. Stephanie Frieze

    Good friends are more precious than gold!

    Reply

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