There is flattery in friendship.
William Shakespeare
(Henry V 3.7.102), Constable to Orleans

Following a late night, for her, early morning, for me, Facebook conversation with one of my dearest and oldest friends Modine, I am once again awed by the fact that friendship continues to thrive through many hardships, separations (a mere 8,000+ miles) and Texas football team disputes.

We have realized that life or football cannot keep us from communicating or making plans for the future. I love it that it is still ‘Old Home Week’ even after a life-imposed communication hiatus’.

Tongue in cheek, we have always said we will be walking arm in arm at the nursing home, purses dangling from the free arm in our ‘golden’ retirement years.

Today, as we jested and made plans for a duplex living arrangement, I learned a few things I did not know about Ms. Modine. Always a fierce lion-like Momma, she bared her teeth at Me upon mention that I am not a fan of the “frog.”

For those of you not native to Texas, and even worse still, Fort Worth, proudly pronounced “Foat Wuth,” by the natives, the “frog” to which I refer is the proud mascot of the overpriced private hometown college, otherwise known as Texas Christian University. And before all you alumnae and “frog lovers” start your commentary and rant, just remember, this is my opinion, and my blog.

To continue, Ms. Modine has recently sold her massive triple-wide trailer and downsized to a single-wide rental trailer in the purplest part of the town. And like my oldest and bestest friend Maybelline, within the million dollar trailer park zip code of the Bass Brothers. She is smack dab within walking distance to my favorite store in the entire world, Central Market. While she may be having trouble finding a place to store 3 different sizes of Crock Pots, and who wouldn’t? She loves it!

She explained she wanted to rent a while to make sure she likes the area. Makes total sense to me, even though I wasn’t consulted about the decision. Didn’t need to be. Whatever makes her happy…makes me happy. We’re like that in the Happy Family Trailer Park. But if you don’t like them, aren’t happy, wanna throw up your hands and walk out….then WE don’t like them, aren’t happy and have got your back.

So, in our little plan for a retirement duplex, I tell her I can imagine she will have little purple and white petunias and cutsie little TCU flags adorning her size of the walkway….while my side will be a Blaze of Burnt Orange. Cut me and I’ll bleed burnt orange.

She pokes back at me that the only burnt orange flowers she has ever seen are “dead.”

Funny lady. I suppose she has never heard of Chrysanthemums, Day Lillies… or spray paint? All of my containers are burnt orange, aka terra cotta.

So, while we make plans for our ‘golden’ or ‘jeweled purple’ or ‘burnt orange’ years we can still agree to disagree about a few more things and remain friends to the end.

God Bless ya’ll’s little purple-infused hearts.

GO TEXAS!!!