OK. Enough is enough. Two tales on my blog of dead friends. Writing up what they meant to you after they are gone is all well and good but there is a perspective on those notes which is self absorbing. So I am going to try and put my heart on my sleeve a bit (an unnatural act!) and write a series of short blogs which highlight what a living friend means to me. And perhaps examine the meaning of friendship. My “case study” occasionally reads Pickled Eel so this will be a test of my honesty, and his stamina. Meet Ewin. Here working on a church working bee and taking his health and safety pretty seriously. For the last fifteen years it seems that we end up on each other’s working bees. We have always lived in separate cities apart from the eighteen months in Ipswich when we first met. So a visit to him, or to me can always run the risk of finding yourself laying cement, lopping trees, erecting sheds or mowing lawns. In this case he was working and I was helping with the painting. He got the short straw and was prepping the toilets. But the gleam in his eye is pretty typical and regardless of the job he is always ready to muck in. There are lots of qualities about Ewin I love and his ready hand to help is one of them. With no strings attached. No expectations of anything in return. Just because he can, and because he enjoys himself immensely in the giving.