Friends

I consider myself very lucky to have some really great friends. There are lots of things that make a friend special but for me one of the most important things is that I feel totally comfy in my own skin when I'm with them. I don't have to work at impressing them, I don't have to pull on any kind of mask and I can quite simply 'be' how I'm feeling at the time - whether that's happy, sad or something in between. 

And whether I've known my best pals for most of my life or for only a few years there's often very little difference in just how good they can make me feel...

Last night I spent a lovely few hours with my pal Christine, whom I've only really known for a few years. Much of her evening was spent patiently listening while I harped on about the major issue of ... my hair. I haven't had my hair dyed for over 6 months and, consequently, it looks as if it's been very badly dipped and stripped! It's an odd mixture of grey, black, brown, white, yellow and orange! (It's fodder for a whole new blog post in itself...!) I've been determined to persevere with my 'embracing the grey' journey, but it's driving me nuts and, as much as I keep telling myself that I'm lucky to have my hair at all and that it's ridiculous to get so het up about my hair colour, I just can't help feeling a bit self conscious at times. That determination to persevere has definitely been wavering of late!

However, after a good sounding off to my buddy - interspersed with a lot of laughs and a big dose of perspective - my confidence was restored and my resolve was back in tact! 

Poor Christine isn't the only person who's been landed with the lament of my locks; most of my pals have heard it in some way, shape or form and I'm grateful to them all for putting up with my ramblings during my regular wobblies! I was especially grateful - and wept buckets - when one of my oldest friends Caroline sent me a copy of 'Fiere' by Jackie Kay. It epitomises our shared childhood and, even though we're nowhere near being the 'doddery' old wifeys in the poem, we are both embracing the fact that 'oor hair micht be silver noo'! 

'Fiere' means companion or mate in Scots dialect and life-long friendship is very much at the heart of the poem. But it also seems to be saying that friendship is the thing that keeps us young! So, being lucky enough to have a fair few 'dearie's' to be 'havin a blether' with almost guarantees that I'll always be young at heart - no matter the colour of my hair...

Fiere

If ye went tae the tapmost hill, Fiere,

Whaur we used tae clamb as girls,

Ye'd see the snow the day, Fiere,

Settling on the hills.

You'd mind o' anither day, mibbe,

We ran doon the hill in the snow,

Sliding and singing oor way tae the foot,

Lassies laughing thegither - how braw.

The years slipping awa; oot in the weather.

And noo we're suddenly auld, Fiere,

Oor friendship's ne'er been weary.

We've aye seen the wurld differently.

Whaur would I hae been weyoot my jo,

My fiere, my fiercy, my dearie O?

Oor hair micht be silver noo,

Oor walk a wee bit doddery,

But we've had a whirl and a blast, girl,

Thru' the cauld blast winter, thru spring, summer.

O'er a lifetime, my fiere, my bonnie lassie,

I'd defend you - you, me; blithe and blatter,

Here we gang doon the hill, nae matter,

past the bracken, bothy, bonny braes, barley.

Oot by the roaring Sea, still havin a blether.

We who loved sincerely; we who loved sae fiercely.

The snow ne'er looked sae barrie,

Nor the winter trees sae pretty.

C'mon, c'mon my dearie - tak my hand, my fiere!

Jackie Kay