There is a friendship I treasure, albeit an unlikely one. In politics my views are blacker than coal and hers whiter than Clorox bleached linen. Strangely we share the same basic values, it is the paths to reach those destinations that differ. We are good enough friends that we can express our differences, probably each hoping to sway the other as we know there's not a snowball's chance in a very, very, very hot place of doing so.
It doesn't matter.
Our friendship spans two continents and coming up to two decades. We only met because of a business connection and a dinner. We finished the business quickly and went on to do what women do best--bond.
Over the years there have been visits to each other's homes and more memory blocks laid.
Only on our last visit did I learn how a misunderstanding could have put an end to our budding friendship instead of being a building block
She was staying in my nest in the south of France. It's a tiny studio.
My friend was taking a shower. "Don't touch anything in the fridge," I called as I ran out.
She wondered if she done anything wrong? Did I think she would steal food?
All was clear to her when I returned with croissants fresh from the oven from the bakery around the corner and some local fruit for breakfast. I hadn't wanted her to eat when a local feast awaited.
The degree of the misunderstanding was revealed years later and we laughed. Just another building block in a friendship.