Today, I went up the Sugarloaf (see below) with my housemate Richard (see right). He is my brother in every way, (except biological).Eighteen months ago, I wrote off his car, which would have been fine, if he had asked me to... but he didn't. He was very gracious to me through the whole saga, despite all the inconvenience etc it caused him. Moreover, since then, he has offered me his new car to drive on a number of different occasions, which I have refused. The shame of the original crash and the fear of repeating the experience have meant that I have, thus far, avoided taking him up on the offer.
However this morning, due to him waking up with a sore neck, and my not wanting to look like a coward, I shared the drive to Wales with him in his ("30-times-nicer-than-my-jalopy") car. I didn't crash it and in fact, somewhat to my surprise, I very much enjoyed creating and feeling a level of torque that my Micra could only dream about.
We had a great day, sharing as men our reflections on life thus far as we know it, our hopes and fears, our joys and frustrations, as well as some appalling jokes (none of which would be funny to you if I tried to retell them. But then I guess that's one of the things that makes friendships special.)
Thank you Jesus for a great friend and a great day!
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