BEACONS IN FOG from page 12
N(VOL CHOOSE trarWC(W Two (soot
TAMP mrtirM fOollt"
- NY novou
Nil Gift( )ewelrtj - tkoto (aril
Wowterft41 )ottniall 6-or,eot4( Gift Writ?
DEN 7 DAYS A WELK!
241 - +I - 19 2.1
Weft fourth ft. - Doweowii Royal Oak
Interiors with individuality & personality
fax (248) 543-8372
1215 Lafayette. South
Lynne and Missy — 70s babes.
to check out the camp-like college
where I ended up; a few months
later, she was writing fiction at
I tell people that Missy is my oldest,
longest friendship. At my wedding,
she spoke about old friends and new
friends and when I neededd -a week
away, I crashed in her spare bedroom,
the painted, pine floor cold in snowy
After graduating from the Colorado
Culinary Institute, Missy became a -
food and wine writer. In Boulder, we
ate in restaurants she had profiled.
Chefs came out of kitchens to shake
her hand, share a glass of wine, and
the way she swirled the burgundy liq-
uid around the rim of the glass, eyes
closed, nose picking up the faintest
scent of oak, I knew she had blos-
somed into Someone Important.
One inky evening, we talked about
the meaning of our lives. She writes
about food: the ways we sustain our-
selves, the nourishment we need and
I write about home design and real
estate, which seemed sort of frivolous.
But Missy knew better.
In some magical way, she said some-
thing like, "You write about where
people live, the surroundings we cre-
ate, the places we return to." It was
then that I realized our friendship has
always thrived on seeing each other's
best light, beacons in fog.
We have given each other many gifts
over the years but none so cherished as
the life lessons we share. Her friend-
ship is a better present than anything a
beribboned box could hold.
One of the best things about our
friendship is that we accept each other
as we are. I took on religious obser-
vance while she spent weekends camp-
ing in the Rockies. While she ventured
out, I came home to my roots. She
sampled the flavors of the earth; I vis-
ited the hues of history.
For my visit to her mountain cot-
tage, Missy stocked up on kosher food
— lox with the right heksher, crackers,
cans of tuna fish, a jar of pickles. "I
remember how we used to eat pickles
together," she said, "the kosher kind."
And we talked about our Jewish
grandmothers and the rites of passing
To top it off, she unearthed a gold-
foiled bottle of kosher champagne. We
clinked glasses as the sun set behind
During that stay, I became caught in
Missy's tornado of creative energy. We
visited Peppercorn, a two-story