Author hugging her friend

The Other Gold: My Tribute to a Golden Friend

A little piece of my heart left for Tennessee. As I write, my friend is driving to her new home ten hours and three states away.

I’ve never been one to speak of “best” friends, nor ever once to sport a broken-heart, BFF necklace.

Instead I’ve long praised “different friends for different reasons” and “changing friends in different seasons.” I don’t think I’m changing my tune.

But that doesn’t mean certain friends don’t rise to the top.

crazy hair Scottish highliand cow

That Crazy Hair Post

“Do we need a private space?” I asked. Ginnie nodded discreetly as we ducked into the empty room across the hall. Whatever she needed to tell me, it clearly was not easy breezy. “Abigail,” Ginnie whispered, her eyes darting from my hair to the spray bottle peeking from her handbag, “I hope it’s okay if…