My friend, my dear friend, lives about a mile away. If the houses were leveled, all traffic stopped, and all people silenced, she could (if I had the wind at my back) hear me yelling to her from my house.
I love her. Really, truly love her.
And we didn't call or visit one time this summer. Work schedules could be blamed, but neither of us worked this summer. We're out of excuses why. It just didn't happen.
She was buying potatoes last week and how do I know that, you ask?
I was buying potatoes, too.
We shrieked. We hugged. We cautioned each other about germs. We played produce aisle catch-up, and then, with multiple promises to call, we parted.
I miss her even though I can't help but think if she would just blog or Facebook, it would be so much easier than hollerin' across the mile that divides us.