Ashley and I have known each other since the first week of college. Most of you know when that was. If you missed the memo, tough luck. I'm 35. Figure it out.

Early on, Ash fell in love with a Brit. Drama. The US government. The Hostage Crisis happened and green cards were cancelled. Suddenly Ash was in England, getting married.

Costumer JoEllen had been scheduled to design & deliver the dress to Virginia. I cried. Gregg said, "So get on a plane and take it to London." So I did. Notice how all the names are the same, even though there are years between events? I have always felt being a friend is alot of work. Once you get them broken in, I like to keep the same ones. It's lovely, isn't it?

This was long ago before Dole invented the internet. We designed that dress through the mail. Real mail. Letters. Pictures torn from magazines. I mailed a tape measure and directions on how to use it. She was a lovely bride.

The years passed. We moved. Changed careers. Changed lives. We lost each other. Four years ago another friend sent me an email. She'd seen a picture of Ashley on the internet. It didn't include a locale. I spent the better part of night on the computer (I can be like a dog with a bone. Be warned.). By morning I was dialing and we were back in time.

This year was my turn to visit. After a fly-by on my way to Lisa's, this visit was all Ashley's. And Rhys'. The last time I saw her son he was four.

He's more handsome. Taller. A gifted musician. Writes his own music, plays/run his own band. Like them on Facebook. If you're in the UK, go to their concerts. They're good. "Grizzly and the Grasshoppers."