Recycled Recipes

Red Uniforms and Savory Yogurt Sauce

Everything I am wearing is secondhand from two different friends. Similar styles behind the wall.

Hello, I am at a cafe listening to the Blackbyrds and thinking how lovely it was to have a solo trip with Riv this past weekend for a friend’s wedding. These friends have been together forever, and truth be told until they invited us to their wedding I hadn’t even realized or remembered that they were in fact not married. They have kids. They are a family. They’ve moved several countries together and restarted careers and have really gotten through the best of the best and the worst. As River and I made our way back I thought about my good friend in Brooklyn who had O for two days and made sure he went to school. She made sure he was fed for lunch, dinner, and breakfast, too. She made certain his teeth were brushed. And even when he got in trouble at school, she handled that as well. I thought about the friendships that can only be described as a kind of sisterhood, which may be overused to some degree but matter here in the true context of what is happening. The kind of sisterhood that makes certain you get to Paris. One that guarantees your kid is cared for (and you’re never made to feel guilt), and the others that remind you of your goodness and support your work, and you do the same, and especially, the ones that ask for nothing but you somehow get and give everything.

One of the strangest things about life lately is this renewed focus on care and commitment. One that is not a barometer to measure anything in particular against.

What constitutes a good friend?