My red-headed neighbor

One day, about six years ago, I met a red-headed girl named Kristin by my mailbox.  She had just moved into the home next door to me.

We visited for a few minutes, I remember laughing at one of her witty jokes and we’ve been friends ever since. 

I learned early on in life that a red-headed friend is a feisty gift to be cherished, even with the flames.

I love this girl.

(At the baby shower she had for me before Canyon was born.)

She is a giver, eager to share food (and she makes killer guacamole), but even more, she’s willing to share ideas, compliments and concerns.  I never get out of a conversation without honesty and wit. Spending time with her is never boring.

She is an artist, and always willing to put her art and heart into action.  I’ve seen her serve at church and with her family, but there have been times I've been one of her charity projects. 

She's prayed for me, served me, loved me.  

One night, she said she had a dream she built me a pallet wall, so the next day, she did.  

The banner, yep, a gift from her.  

She finishes my unfinished projects, like this clipboard wall art.  

And in her spare time, she built and installed these gorgeous barn wood shelves, "Because I thought you would like them," she said.

Demonstrations of her friendship are all over my home, like these large scrabble letters she made and hung.

What do you do with a friend like this?  How do you give back?

At this point, we are co-parenting our kids, with open doors between homes and kids running in and out through the day and night.  She launders my kid's clothes and I, hers.  She knows where my sock box is, pulling through it looking for her son’s socks and I know the spot under her porch bench where she leaves the items my kids have left behind. 

Our family photos are a combination of each others kids.  She shares hers and I share mine.

When I’m feeling gray, Kristin’s kitchen always has something homemade I can grab. 

I don’t take her for granted.  She’s my go-to when I’m flying high or crashing down.  She picks me up or keeps me up.  She’s seen me mad, I’ve seen her livid.  She’s seen me crushed, I’ve seen her bent. 

This girl has been there for me, through so much.  She’s never a judge, but she does have an opinion and she’s never afraid to share it, I think that comes with the red hair.

Last week, I had a flood in my house.  

For those of you who read my blog regularly, yes, this is the second time in just a few months that we've had some sort of water damage.  Here's the story.  The day before, the pool company came over to fix our pool pump and the system was not put back together properly. 

 Throughout the night, the pool motor pumped and dumped the water from our pool out into our yard and by morning, our living room had 2-3 inches of standing water. 

My first response was to text Kristin.

I gasped when I read her response. 

She shares, cooks, serves, cares, listens, inspires, but this? 

This time she’s gone too far. 

Willing to help clean up my flooded house? 

How did I get so blessed?

Now, I have another reason to love this girl.

She’s so there for me. 

Sidenote:

My baby Canyon got into the flour during this scene.  Funny, baby.