When good things happen to nice people.

Our best friends live half an hour from us. We see each other a lot, holiday together and we make each other laugh. A lot. Tony & I have been mates for 23 years and, when my wife came into my life, 17 years ago, they embraced her completely (whilst being initially careful that I wasn't going to get hurt.) You see, something happened to me in '94 that nearly derailed my whole life. These 2 people almost adopted me, taking me under their wing and cooking me Sunday meals in their warm old house. Over the last couple of years they have retired from their Care business and decided to transform their house. It has taken almost a year, through the wettest Summer, and the builder has done a great job. We've not seen the progress because they didn't want people round while it was such a mess. Yesterday, we went for lunch. Lunch turned into the rugby, 2 films and a bed for the night. Their 2 grandchildren helped cook breakfast and pancakes and we left around midday. The house? Stunning. Wooden floors, minimal, clean lines, just gorgeous. I have always said that, after what happened to me, I 'got better' in that house. A tiny part of me was dreading seeing it changed. I should have had more faith in our two wonderful friends. Their hard work and dedication over many years has allowed them to reward themselves with a house and garden that will give them true happiness for the rest of their days.