I'm blessed with my pals - but am I being a good friend to them?
The other night I found myself in the bosom of a clutch of friends who, to be exact, all started out as 'friends of a friend'. We shared the same mutual friend, and he had introduced us all to each other back in the 1980s.
Over the decades and countless New Year's Day brunches and uproarious Friday-night dinner parties, we all clicked with one another and gradually became invested in each other's lives. We knew each other's histories - the dramas, the house moves and all the romances. We knew one another single, coupled up and divorced.
This little group wasn't guaranteed to see each other regularly, but whenever those hand-written invitations from our mutual friend plopped onto the hall mat, you just knew who would be there and that you would instantly pick up with the threads of each other's lives.