For various scheduling reasons, I was having troubles figuring out when to get my friend Jenny her birthday present. I’ve been wanting to give it to her since Christmas, but the whole Christmas-Birthday gift idea was thematic, so I had to sit tight until her birthday, which isn’t officially until tomorrow.
For Christmas, I got her a number of magazines which all tend to have good, nutritious and cheap recipes in them, since she wanted to start eating better. For her birthday, I got her a designer lunch bag with some really neat containers for food. I really liked both and was itching to give them to her.
Since she was busy tomorrow, and I’m busy most of the weekend and then gone the following week, Hubby and I decided to go pick up a cake and some flowers and try our luck at her being home. We trudged up to the third floor and knocked on her door, our gifts, flowers and smiling faces in view of the peephole.
“G*d Damn*t! I knew it!!” , was what we heard from behind the door. Now what kind of greeting is that?
😀 hehehehehe…..
She opened her gift and mentioned that she was just getting ready to go buy a lunch bag since I hadn’t given her one yet. (I’d threatened last year) I’m glad she liked it. Then we had cake and played some of her Rockband 3, chatted about Italy and some other adventures we’d like to get into and too soon it was time for us to go home.
Aaaaaaannnnnd, the daughter is now insisting that I abandon my blog to come watch Jersey Shore with her and telling me that if I don’t, she’ll put this massive hair she just pulled out of her eyeball on me. Yeah… my life? my house? my family and friends? … we are all just a bit nutty. THANK G*D!!
Did you know that porcupines climb trees to get to the tender leaves and soft wood? And that they stab themselves when they fall from said trees with their quills?
African hunting dogs are more successful at hunting than lions.
Did you know that a dog’s nose print is equal in its individuality as a human’s thumbprint?
Sperm whales can hold their breath for up to 2 hours and it can take about 70 breaths to re-oxygenate their blood.
The first real pizzeria was created in the back of a grocery store in New York’s Little Italy neighborhood.
Male Emperor penguins don’t eat for 3 months while they incubate their eggs and can lose up to 45 % of their body mass during this time.
The Titicaca frog has extra saggy skin because it breathes through its skin by moving the water around itself and uses that additional surface area to get more oxygen into it’s blood. Due to where it lives, the water has more oxygen in it than the air does.
You’ll never find a white Bengal tiger in the wild because it doesn’t have the proper camouflage and thus will not be able to sneak up on its prey. Only 1 in 10,0o0 will be born white due to a genetic defect.
A beaver chops down 260 trees a year and a family of beavers will take down a ton of wood a year. They can make a river flood a mile and a half upriver from where they are building their dam.
Male Jamaican guppies attract the lady fish with their bright colors, but to win their ladyfish, they have to flaunt themselves in front of predators to prove their bravery. (Dumb fish)
When I traveled to England in 2009, I attempted to write a blog for each day I was there for my official work blog. I was so exhausted by the time I was done, I never got to the official London blog.
It’s hard sometimes, because I’d love to write some of my personal experiences and thoughts, but don’t really want my “work” to be effected. Especially if I had a quirky view of something that happened. And so much happened.
When we came home, Hubby and I went to DuClaw to unwind and write down some things before we forgot them. We ordered up the sampler and realized that there were 10 samples, so we toasted each other with the first beer and then began our list of 9 beers for 9 days.
When I decided to work on my official London Blog – gotta get it done before I go globetrotting again – I took down those little slips of papers we had written our thoughts on and practically relived the trip in a matter of minutes.
I’m sure this won’t make sense to many but me and Hubby, but I wanted to transcribe my list into my blog and maybe, just maybe, I’ll get the gumption up to finish London and put the official blog to bed.
9 Beers for 9 Days
1. American Brown – DC and Arrival in UK (London), Stonehenge, Sherborne, Rooming, HarryPotter room, small showers, exhausted.
2. Alchemy – Sherborne (Land of Potter) 1st UK pub, Murphy’s and Kiwi’s (New Zealander’s and two girls who were lovin’ it)
3. Venom (Nitro) Sherborne, attempted Glastonbury but epic fail, broke the bank, bought flowers, had coffee in pub, pictures of monk washing, Bath, Crazed chaperons, kids not sticking together, strange rabbit statues, busking, circus, Georgian architecture, dogs on balcony over sidewalks (what happens when they lift a leg?) went to grocery store and wandered, helped Cuffee (Savannah Children’s Chorus), explored the Abbey Grounds.
4.Venom (norm) Sherborne, Concert Day, mad @ Hubby, Abbey gift shop look around, 3 wishes, Stodger and coffee, Halfmoon Inn, blog fail, knitting in the sunshine, concert, crazy woman, escape, pissed as escapee, gas leak (only from an anus) leaks and no hot water, the start of the plague.
5.Hellrazer – Wells, lost camera, boxed lunches on grass, tour of cathedral, dead people we lunched on, city tour walk, kids in town, coffee and cream pastry, croquet, bishop’s garden, , wifi, shopping, dinner on dead people, soccer players flirting with girls, concert prep, wells concert, Louis concert and reception, bus ride home (scary), ruffians on the lawn, cab ride to police station (they close at 4PM), Glastonbury (finally), thorn tree, abbey ruins, chaps griping, cool shops, Joseph of Arimathea.
6.El Guavo – Stratford Upon Avon, Holy Trinity, Birthplace, movie making, Shakespeare’s buried in the steps, Ice cream off of boats, Torchwood encounter, Avon river, puking student, changing behind room divider in sanctuary, scaffolding, unstable roof, missed handoff of directors, Senga, Hotel, Hour of confusion, rooming craziness followed by drinking at bar/lounge.
7. Misfit Red – Warwick/Stratford, Anne Hathaway house, singing in garden, boys taking photos of flowers, plague continues, Warwick Castle, falconry, wax figures, towers, Tre-Bu-Chet!- some back to Stratford, me to lounge, working on scarf, zzzzzz, Talent show, scrumpy in lounge and scarf again.
8. Bare Assed Blonde – London, traveled on bus, Greenwich, climb hill to see line in boot, no photo, lost Maeve, Thames cruise, crazy foot traffic, stressed chaps, Big Ben and Parliament, Downing Street, Bus, Drove to Piccadilly, Trafalgar, Pall Mall, Mens Clubs, walk to Buckingham, Palace grounds, St. James Place, Evensong @ Westminster Abbey, back to bus, Chelsea football hotel, more room nightmares, more sick kids.
9. Kangaroo Love – London, lime green, scarf debut, Tower of London, Ravens, Crown Jewels, St. Paul’s, Boys to bathroom, girls change on bus, more sickies, singing under the dome, gorgeous sound, sing on steps, BBC, encore request, former singer Julienne Gedes found us, Covent Gardens for shopping, street performers, driver errors, marble arch, left tour guide, 50 pound car ride for programs that mostly parents took, back to hotel to change for dinner, Novotel West for Farewell dinner, speeches, cabaret, back to Chelsea, fish n chips?, Frankies- no fish n’ chips. 😦
I haven’t done much to be this tired, but there it is; I am. I’ve been sleeping in most every day and I’m ready for bed by 10…. A.M., unless I’ve had a boost by some kind of caffeinated beverage. I’ve been drinking water and eating well, but I’m still tired. I keep aspiring to be like my friends who are working out twice a day and being energizer bunnies, but then I roll over and pull the covers up higher, and my kitty jumps up on me and curls into the curve of my hip and zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz I’m asleep again.
I guess the bear in me has finally insisted it’s time to hibernate.
For Christmas, a dear friend and his wife (hello A and B) invited us to attend a Beer Brunch at a local establishment known as DuClaw.
Drinking lots of beer is not something I would have thought I’d be doing on a Sunday morning, and not because I’m religious or morally a prig, but I don’t usually “eat” and “drink” at the same time. Generally, I find that the change in the taste of the beverage paired with the food just isn’t appealing anymore. BUT – what ho! – this is where the universe takes something I “thought” I knew and slaps me upside the head with it. This is where I’m reminded to try new things and be open to new ideas.
It was delicious!
We started off with Sweet Potato Pancakes, with a Vanilla Almond Syrup topped with Fresh Home made Cream paired with a Cask Conditioned Vanilla Cinnamon Sawtooth Belgian Wit.
Now bear with me, please. Hubby was taking photos next to me and he WAS sober for this shot – but I can’t attest to the rest. This was, I think, my favorite and I wish now that I’d eaten the whole thing.
After a brief introduction by the owner of DuClaw, we were treated to a discussion by the head brew master on aspects of each beer, how it was created or brewed and why they chose it to pair with each dish. I have to say I learned quite a bit about spicing and how beer is created, is filtered, the types, hops… you name it.
Anyway, the first course was scarfed down by all four of us so quickly, that what you see in the photo was literally all that was left of our four plates. (I eat fairly slowly, I’m told) The cream was perfect and went well with the pancake that had a hint of nutmeg in it and while I was not a huge fan of the beer without the food, this was one of those rare times that the drink was better with the food. Brewed with orange peel and coriander, it was a nice counterbalance to the pancake.
Our second course was Spiced Pumpkin Waffles topped with a Cinnamon Cream paired with Cask Conditioned Double Spiced 31 Munich Dunkel.
The beer was great. The cream was great. The waffles were overdone and didn’t have much of a spice flavor, but weren’t something you’d feed to the dog, either. While all the components were great, it was kind of “here are three options, pick two” scenario. Cream and waffle? Yes. Beer and waffle? Yes. Beer and Cream? Pushing it, but yes. Beer, cream and waffle? Not so much.
Presented next was Beer Marinated Steak and Eggs paired with Devil’s Milk Barleywine. This was A’s favorite beer and it was pretty good. It’s also rather potent….
Everyone raved over the steak; let’s just say that right away. The chef later came out and told us that he had marinated the meat in the Devil’s Milk for a day and a half, along with some brown sugar and garlic. Sadly, I had to pass on this one because I was pretty certain it had some onion in that marinade as well. The eggs were great and since Hubby doesn’t like eggs, we just traded proteins. The beer itself had so many flavors and a smoky undertone that it was the perfect pairing for meat.
Our least favorite and definitely the least appealing, was the Banana Crepes with a Chocolate Drizzle paired with 13 DegreesHefeweizen.
Was I right or was I right? Tell me that looks somehow appealing to you…. and I’ll disagree. Not much of a punishment there, eh? Well the real punishment was this pairing. Hubby likens Hefeweizen to drinking something that tastes like fresh-cut grass, and while I can’t quite get to that, it’s not something that I really liked either. It had a flavor that centered itself more to the front of my mouth and specifically on the tip and front sides of my tongue. Bitter, but light, not dark and smokey. Bananas raw are tolerable, but a cooked banana in warm chocolate (we all KNOW that chocolate is supposed to be COLD only by command of the High priestess Sharon) was not something even I could tolerate. I felt bad about giving back a plate of food that had only one bite out of it, but multiply that by the four of us and I was wishing there was some way to have given it to someone who liked it.
By now, we are all roasty-toasty with each other and having great conversation and a fantastic time. Even Hubby was getting very verbal; such is his want when he’s had a few. And have a few he did, since I was the DD and he had his and mostly mine and sometimes a third or even fourth to drink if one of us didn’t like ours.
Another smash hit was the Beer Biscuits and Maple Sausage Gravy paired with Euphoria’s Toffee Nut Brown Ale.
It was a huge biscuit that was sweet and slightly dense and the sausage gravy was very good. I’m used to a slightly thicker gravy, but the flavor was perfect. The beer though, that was just about my favorite and thankfully it’s B’s favorite as well, since the second one she ordered ended up being accidentally dumped down A’s back. Even being drenched in B’s favorite beer, didn’t dampen his mood though. At this point, we were all a bit happy. :0)
When I took my first sip, I turned to Hubby and said, “This tastes a lot like the coffee I had yesterday with the toasted almond and caramel flavorings.” The first thing about this statement that was odd was that I don’t put flavor in my coffee, generally, because I love it dark and bitter. The second thing was that just after I uttered this sentence, the brew master got up and announced that this beer was made by pouring a toffee, nut coffee into the mix. Score one for my palate!!!
Our last course was Cherry Strata paired with Cherry Black Jack Stout. This stout was specifically brewed with a heavy cherry favor to stand up to this pairing, but I’m not sure it hit the mark.
It was a beautiful dish, with pecans and cherries and a bread pudding type of consistency, but it wasn’t something that you could eat a whole serving of. At least no one at our table could. And Hubby ended up with all 4 stouts on this one, so he was grinning ear to ear once he’d finished those.
After a final Q and A, we all said our thanks and goodbyes and tried to head over to the ice rink to watch a friend’s sons’ hockey game. On our way, I missed the turn for the rink and headed down a street to flip around and head back the other way. It ended up that I had turned down a road that had townhouses and a slight divider between their parking area and the main road, so making a circle wasn’t very difficult at all. I drove to the second exit, made the left and drove through the parking lot and then stopped to check for traffic down the main road I had just driven.
There, in the middle of the road, was a Christmas tree. I don’t know how it got there, since we didn’t see it at all when we pulled in, but it’s not like I could have driven around it without noticing because it was smack in the middle of the road, sunlight glinting off some leftover tinsel. Don’t ask me why I felt this meant something, but I did. I felt thankful that we had people in our lives that would think to share new experiences with us and cared enough to want to be with us. Does a body good to think of.
When I was 5, I remember sitting in a little rocking chair, wearing a fancy, flouncy little dress, stockings, and shiny black shoes. I was visiting my Granparents at the time and I was having a blast rocking back and forth in my little rocking chair in my grandparents basement. Back and forth, back and forth I went until… I went to far.
I can remember watching my shoes elevating higher and higher as I tilted farther back than I ever had before. I teetered on that small precipice of balance that determined whether I was going to continue my world right side up or up side down until gravity made the choice to flip me completely backwards.
My head made a little thump against the wall as I landed on my back and knocked the air completely out of my lungs. I lay there, still for a few moments, with my shoes pointing at the ceiling, my dress around my chin and my Grandfather laughing uproariously;Â stuck in that position and only just registering what had happened.
I recall my mother rushing over to see if I was ok and returning my rocking chair to it’s normal upright position and I recall being so embarrassed by my Grandfather laughing at me, that I forgot to feel anything else.
To this day, I still panic when I’m in a chair that rocks back just a bit too far or is pushed just a tad to rapidly backward by someone behind me, and I wonder…am I more afraid of being hurt by the backwards tumble, or by the laughter that might ensue?
Ergh! I have eleven minutes to post before I’ve messed up another Nablopomo again. I will succeed.
Quickly, let me tell you a little story… maybe I’ll update it later if it seems as though I haven’t done a good enough job.
Come little children… come hear the story….
I have adult children. Key word here is adult. Some are young adults and some are younger adults, but the key word here is still, adult.
They are all living on their own (except for the one in her Sr. year of college and that’s because I live near her internship. Otherwise, she’d been living on her own for 2 years prior.
My children are happy, well adjusted, responsible and functioning people who contribute to society, are honest and kind. They all love me. We all have good relationships. They know I love them and respect them.
So, tell me dear reader, why it is that one particular in-law chooses to be such a nasty Nellie and post things that are aimed at not so subtly telling the world what a horrible, un-supportive, un-caring, abandoning and dismissive parent my child could ever have? What is the motivation here? Jealousy? Insecurity? C’mon!
And she does all this by posting on my child’s FB status messages. Either as soon as there is a new status posted, or directly after I’ve made some kind of comment, this person makes sure she posts how much she does for my child by writing in BIG letters about HER and her SUPPORT and how you don’t just let your children fail at things.
Ready for this? (Cover your ears and eyes if you are easily offended…)
Booger Snot!!
As a parent, your job is to nurture and guide your children. You are to love and support them, not control, domineer and manipulate them.
Period.
My child had asked me to intercede on her behalf one day. To let her in-law know that they didn’t appreciate what was going on and why they didn’t want to do something the in law wanted her to do. Being the momma, I agreed. This was one of those times where I needed to stick to my guns and tell my adult child that they needed to learn how to deal with aggressive people. I had made suggestions, but the child whined a bit and voila, I wrote a letter.
It wasn’t a nasty letter. It explained why the child didn’t want to do what the in-law wanted and addressed some issues of the basic way the child was raised and core values of our family. It discussed our parenting philosophy and how we have dealt with situations in the past. This was not anything outside of what the adult child had asked me to write.
I should have listened to my gut and refused my child, because since that letter, my child has been told – to their face- what a horrible mother I am. How much the in-law hates me. How I don’t provide for my adult child the way she does. How my support isn’t equivalent and how much better my child is with her.
How wrong is that? She doesn’t have to like me, but don’t bad mouth me to my kid. That’s like the dad talking bad about the mom in a divorce just to ‘win’ the kids favor.
On second thought… she can bad mouth me all she pleases. She can say what she wants, she can boost her self up – because if that’s what she needs to be happy, then I’ll support her in that.
My philosophy is that my adult child should be able to make her own decisions by now. It’s what I said in conjunction to what the in-law wanted and it’s my same philosophy now. If my child chooses to believe what’s being told to them and goes by the wayside, that’s her choice. I’ll always love her and will support whatever she chooses to do.
I don’t have resources to promise inheritances or throw money at situations and promise big pay-offs when I die, and both the child and I know, I’ve already used what little I had on her. They are appreciative of what I could do and that’s all that matters.
I’m happy that my child has a supportive network where she lives and has been accepted into her new family. I wouldn’t want it any other way. It was a rocky road at first, but she seems to be doing extremely well now, thanks to who she is, not who she’s influenced by.
I think the proof is in the pudding, and my pudding has done very well, thank you!!
“Remember making an apron in Home Ec? Remember Home Ec? If we have to explain “Home Ec” you may delete this.I just don’t have the energy anymore. Read below.
The History of  ‘APRONS’
I don’t think our kids know what an apron is.
The principal use of Grandma’s apron was to protect the dress underneath because she only had a few and because it was easier to wash aprons than dresses and aprons required less material. Â But along with that, it served as a potholder forremoving hot pans from the oven.
It was wonderful for drying children’s tears, and on occasion was even used for cleaning out dirty ears.
From the chicken coop, the apron was used for carrying eggs, fussy chicks, and sometimes half-hatched eggs to be finished in the warming oven.
When company came, those aprons were ideal hiding places for shy kids.
And when the weather was cold, Grandma wrapped it around her arms.
Those big old aprons wiped many a perspiring brow, bent over the hot wood stove.
Chips and kindling wood were brought into the kitchen in that apron.
From the garden, it carried all sorts of vegetables.
After the peas had been shelled, it carried out the hulls.
In the fall, the apron was used to bring in apples that had fallen from the trees.
When unexpected company drove up the road, it was surprising how much furniture that old apron could dust in a matter of seconds.
When dinner was ready, Grandma walked out onto the porch, waved her apron, and the men folk knew it was time to come in from the fields to dinner.
It will be a long time before someone invents something that will replace that ‘old-time apron’ that served so many purposes.
REMEMBER:
Grandma used to set her hot baked apple pies on the window sill to cool. Â Her granddaughters set theirs on the window sill to thaw.
They would go crazy now trying to figure out how many germs were on that apron.
I don’t think I ever caught anything from an apron – but love…”
I got this in my email today and just had to share. My kids wouldn’t recognize me without my apron and I’ve had more than a few giggle at the sight of me wearing my apron in the kitchen.
Some of my daughters’ favorite things are the little apron I bought her when she was just a wee little thing, and the apron her Great Grandma used to wear during our visits in Pittsburgh. This Christmas I got her a new apron, just for her.
I went to the local mall today. I rarely go to the mall. Usually the mall doesn’t really have anything I want to buy, but a friend wanted to meet there for lunch and a stroll so I went.
While we were wandering about and looking at the new stores that have opened and wondering where some of the old stores went, I was drawn to all the BABIES I saw there. Toddlers, newborns and those in between were rocking, rolling and teetering all over the place. After the dream I’d had this morning, I just wanted to go up to each baby and give them a cuddle. I’d be talking to Lupita, catch sight of a fresh little nugget and stop in the middle of my sentence to watch them go by.
I could watch babies for hours. True, screaming babies can be annoying, but it’s usually something Mom or Dad is doing wrong or some discomfort that’s making them scream, and all I ever want to do is go over and see what I can do to help and soothe them.
Little wobbly pixies make me smile. I look at them and they seem so fragile and so strong all at the same time. I think babies are awesome and I feel a strong connection to them.
Ok.. so on to my dream this morning BEFORE I went to the mall and saw all those chubby little bundles. I’ll warn you not that my dream was fairly disturbing. If you choose to continue reading, remember that I warned you.
I dreamed that I was out at a mall or other public place and noticed a baby that was sitting on a carpeted surface. Its mother was either talking to someone else or was not around because there was no one watching this child. This baby was about 5-7 months old.
The baby was picking up handfuls of straight pins and putting them into its mouth (because that’s where babies put just about everything). Handful after handful of straight pins went into the right side of this child’s cheek and mouth until it was so full the child started to have troubles swallowing and began to cough. There was no crying and seemingly no pain and no blood, but I was appalled that there wasn’t anyone watching this baby and raced over to take the pins out of its pink little hands. I started pulling large amounts of pins from the baby’s mouth and pulling them out of the cheek. The baby was laughing and smiling and cooing at me and I was torn between the feeling of smiling and cooing back and the horror of the fact that I was pulling straight pins from the child.
I finally got all the pins out of the baby. It’s face looked perfectly fine, with no marks or blemishes and the drooling little mouth was still smiling and happy when I noticed that it’s gums were green and looked like they had little pin heads in them. I put my finger in and gently pried up a pin head and once I got it loose, it POPPED out like a splinter does when the area is infected. I pulled out two or three more of these and then the baby had pink gums and was fine.
Of course, this all made me wake up and think, WTH??
Woo hoo! I’m starting at 10:30 tonight. Maybe it’s a trend. Problem is, last night I had an idea about a friend I wanted to write about. Tonight I’m staring at the screen and chewing on my pencil in consternation.
I could write about Jenny, but I talk about her often enough and she is very particular about what’s said about her. Plus she knows where I live and has threatened to hit me if she doesn’t like what I say. (although she is a very intelligent, funny, kind, fun-loving, SINGLE, attractive blond, should anybody be minutely curious)
I could write about Lupita, who has an incredible strength and has taught me much about the value of faith and I love dearly. But, I’ve already done that.
It would seem as though this topic would be able to inspire a plethora of interesting ideas, yet here I sit, chewing on a pencil and listening to “Tie Your Mother Down” with no inspiration at all.
How about friends that are not human or furry?
Music? Nature? Dancing? Sunshine? Good books and or movies? Special places?
What defines a friend? According to Miriam-Webster the word friend means:
a: one that is not hostile b: one that is of the same nation, party, or group
3
: one that favors or promotes something (as a charity)
4
: a favored companion
5
capitalized: a member of a Christian sect that stresses Inner Light, rejects sacraments and an ordained ministry, and opposes war —called also Quaker
— friend·less\ˈfren(d)-ləs\ adjective
— friend·less·nessnoun
— be friends with
: to have a friendship or friendly relationship with
… she … got a job, made friends and managed to write a novel that hit the best-seller lists and stayed there … —Garrison Keillor, New York Times Book Review, 11 June 2006
Over the last couple of years I have experienced moments of disbelief when I meet my friends in public. They look older than I think they should. —Alice Munro, In the Stacks, 2002
Never had a friend like that before or since. Never laughed so hard in my life as I did with Manny. —Philip Roth, American Pastoral, 1997
Origin of FRIEND
Middle English frend, from Old English frēond; akin to Old High German friunt friend, Old English frēon to love, frēo free
First Known Use: before 12th century
Of course, that’s not exactly what my question was, right? My question was what defines a friend, not what the definition of a friend is. I must admit, I’m rather more taken with the origin of “friend” that I am with blandness of the current definition.
“to love, free”
There you go. That’s my topic. Free love. Not the 60’s and early 70’s version of free love, but love given freely to someone. Love given because you care, because they resonate with something inside of you. Because you feel good when you are with them and want to share that little part of you that you reserve for special people. That little spark of connection and caring. You want them to succeed. You want to see them laugh and be happy. You want to hug them when they are sad or comfort them when they are hurting. You truly care about how they feel and you feel poorly if you do something that hurts them even if things in your life changes.
Sometimes, I think that people are so brainwashed by the thought of romantic love, they can’t seem to connect the shared care and concern of one person for another as a form of love. To them, love is only about exclusivity instead of inclusiveness. Sadly, tainted with jealousy and insecurity. When did that come about? Probably because so often love is tied to sex and while sex can be part of love, it’s not the sole thing that defines if you love someone.
Free Love… love given freely. The want to help, to accept, to give, to make others happy because you care about them, because you enjoy who they are. That’s what the definition of a friend is to me.
What defines a friend? Tricky, because there are those I still consider friends that don’t speak to me anymore and there are some really good books that I spent many hours and much emotional attachment to. I have journals that I would consider good friends and my cat is definitely my friend. I guess from a personal standpoint, a friend is defined by the passion and love you have for that particular person, place or thing. From a broader perspective, a friend is someone who feels about you the way you feel about them?
Anyone got a different perspective/definition? I’d love to discuss!
See friend defined for English-language learners »
Snippets and Tidbits 