and looking so pleased to be home. Her wit hasn't lost its edge and her sparkle still shines. She didn't seem weary despite a stressful journey and months dealing with the arse-end of New Zealand's finest immigration system.
Meeting in the pub for a new menu, a few of us salivated over potential mash, sausage and gravy combinations while we waited for the others to arrive. When they did they brought news: the chef was off. No pork and apple sausage, horseradish mash and cider gravy. Within view of the fish bar and the glorious sun we loaded up on chips and sauces and sat along the park by the waterfall.
It was nice to see the park being made use of. There must've been a hundred people hanging around in groups, sat nattering or knocking a football about. New park equipment was being put to the test by youngsters too old for swings and seesaws, acoustic Arctic Monkeys floated across the grass and filling ourselves with greasy potato products added to the recreational luxury.
We ate, we laughed, we shared and it felt good; just like old times. Badger and I drifted apart around the time I drifted up my own arse but I'd often thought about emailing and trying to strike up the friendship again. Thankfully I'm a different person than I was when she left and I can be the Real Me instead of the confused and self-destructive person I was. It was so thoroughly good to see her and I look forward to her company as a good friend.
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