Deb

Long, long ago in a post-conflict state far, far away this lady was my boss. She was a Colonel in the United States Army and I was a Sergeant in the British Army. I taught her how to make proper tea in the time-honoured British fashion and bought her a china teapot to make it in (she still has it). She taught me that wearing cowboy boots in the company of Americans indicates your willingness to do the Cotton-Eyed Joe at the drop of a stetson; it was nice of her to warn me. We liked to drink wine and chat and share our love of cats. We went our separate ways, but we stayed in touch. Two years later, still a Sergeant, I was honoured to be one of only two non-Americans she invited to attend a parade at which she was decorated (the other was a two-star Norwegian General) in the United States.

We didn't see each other again for eight years, when she attended a wedding in Buckinghamshire and I travelled down to meet her for a couple of days and showed her around Oxford.

A lot happened to both of us after that, but we continued to contact each other and made each other laugh a lot and fret on occasion.

Finally, yesterday, she made it to God's Own County and to my part of it in particular. MrsDroog and I showed her the sights of York; she was amazed by the richness of its history, especially the Viking heritage. She was amazed at the scale, complexity and sheer culture of the Minster. Afterwards, we took her to Otley for a drink or -ahem- in a pub which was older than her country. The clientele really took to her and didn't want her to leave.

It isn't often that one's boss becomes a good friend: I have been very lucky.