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Best friends

When I was in grade 6 my best friend was a Scorpio like me, she was born in Canada like me, we liked the same boys and she taught me how to riffle shuffle.

In recent years we’ve lost touch but then my parents met her in a cafe down south and got her number.

I called her and tonight we caught up – it must be at least six years since we’ve talked.

She is just the same.

Her laugh took me back to those days at school where we’d play endless rounds of elastics.

And to her house where she had a pool and a trampoline.
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I loved her house.

Her parents were cool.

They took us along to gambling parties with huge jars of one cent coins.

One night we made these wild candle lantern things by dropping hot candle wax in water… or at least that’s my vague recollection.

It was so nice to see her again that we’ve made a pact to catch up properly next time I’m in town.

I can’t wait.

The importance of a best friend

The other day at work I mentioned a friend in a conversation and my colleague turned to me and asked “Is she your best friend?”

It stopped me in my tracks.

I’ve been thinking a lot about best friends lately and how important – to 10-year-olds at least – it is to have a best friend.

I met my best friend at school at the age of 10. In years 6&7 we were inseparable. I’d go over to her house 2-3 times a week, we had sleepovers, secretly liked the same boys, played hopscotch, trampolining, elastics, and board games endlessly. We were both born in Canada. Her family Canadian, my family Australian (working abroad at the time). I went to Wave Rock with her family. She came to Rotto with mine.

She taught me how to riffle shuffle – a skill I enjoy to this day. I don’t think I taught her anything. Her dad would wake us up in the morning singing lougly:

Good morning to you
Good morning to you
Whatever the weather
We’ll face it together
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a beautiful day!

Best Friends circa 1979

Note the similar fashion style, even similar hair! We’d have been around 12.

I remember on the way home, her dad stopped on the side of the road. A fox had been killed. I don’t know why he stopped – maybe to get the foxtail. He turned the dead animal over and I can still see to this day the teeming maggots, green and maroon.

Today we don’t see each other. We grew apart when she moved schools in Year 9 but kept in touch. She has moved to Vancouver with her husband and two boys. Maybe she reads this blog. I hope so.

If you’re reading girlfriend: Thank you for being a great best friend!