We went to Peterborough.
We bought an old car.
Steve loves the car.
We drove it north.
We got so tired.
We stopped at many roadside service hotels.
We determined that roadside service hotels are out to rip us off.
MBC wrangled an excellent hotel/breakfast deal so we stayed the night somewhere in England.
We did not have clean underwear or toothbrushes or the like with us.
We drove back to Scotland.
We stopped at IKEA.
MBC discovered that the Swedish cheese Steve loves (Steve loves most Swedish things) is Russian breakfast cheese!
We bought cheese.
We came home.
We drove to a river.
We collected rocks for small children.
We wrangled children at church, which is our new thing.
We expected 10 children.
We received 17 children.
17 is a big number.
We are tired.
4 comments:
I can't wait to hear about your first activity with 17 wee Scots. Wrangle would be an absolutely correct verb for such an endeavor. Good luck with the "new" old car.
(1) I read your post almost verbatim .... but inserted the word "STOP" between sentences. I suppose this dates me, but the whole piece felt wonderfully telegraphic to me. (2) Also, my great-grandfather James Osborne who lived to be 101 and a half years old and died in Draper Utah worked as a gardener for some Lord somebody or other at some large estate in Peterborough. --MarmDad
I feel tired for you. The church must hate you guys.
The wee scots are (mostly) charming. There are just so many of them!
MarmDad--I wrote with the stops in my head. I didn't not see any large estates in Peterborough, but they have a lovely bathroom in their bus station.
Eliana--In theory, the church loves us, because they're letting us work together. At least that's what they say.
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