- I lost my wedding ring. It's somewhere at the allotment, but who knows where. I put it in my pocket for safekeeping (since we never got it resized) but it fell out sometime while I was crawling about in the dirt.
- Bus companions. Now that we have no car, we're bus riders. Saturday night as we came home on the bus we were accompanied by hordes of 14-year-olds. Short short skirts and high high heels. They looked so ridiculous stumbling down the bus aisle, and, sadly, I can only imagine (from past encounters) that they were on their way downtown to find someone to buy them liquor before wandering around tipsy in the city center.
- Scottish potlucks. I've mentioned it before and I'll mention it again. Potlucks in this country are sad affairs. We attended one yesterday afternoon. These were the offerings: donuts, pretzels, white bread, a bowl of iceberg lettuce, packaged chocolate rolls, packaged cookies, packaged meat pies, crisps. There was also one homemade offering. I have no idea what it was. It was gray and creamy and studded with peas.
And a Happy Thing:
We brought home rhubarb from the allotment yesterday and Steve made delicioso crumble out of it. DeliciOso. We probably should have taken it to the potluck today.
4 comments:
Very sad indeed--all 3 of them. Maybe it will be like that one short story where the woman lost her ring in a garden and then they found it in a potato later on....
The potluck is very sad. And gross. Push that allotment to the limit!
Ldsjaneite--Let's hope so!
Eliana--It is gross. We went to a potluck the next day where there were two homemade sweets. It was sad how excited that made us.
Can't be any worse than YSA potlucks.
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