Skye and I surrendered to the inevitable and went grocery shopping. This is rather more stress-inducing than it would seem to, oh, normal people; because we do not, in fact, know how to cook. Therefore, we do not know how to shop; and so I called Mom in a minor panic. She laughed at my pain, and then she gave me a list of staples that we should try to buy. Butter. Eggs. Bread. (It occurs to me now that we forgot the eggs.)
Anyway, we went to Franprix and tried our best. Grocery stores in France are smaller than would be in any way reasonable. Four aisles and frozen food on two walls, fruit on another. We succeeded in buying enough stuff for the week, if we stretch it, and we only spent 64 Euros. This is impressive, I'm telling you right now. And we cooked dinner, after a fashion: tuna salad, cheese and tomato melted on bread. Tuna melt. But awesome. In Skye I have found someone whose culinary goals mesh with mine (namely, do not starve).
I have also started drinking tea. No, I don't understand it either, but a chunk of sugar goes a long way toward making things palatable. Still, coffee remains in the realm of the undrinkable.
Also, I have no idea why the formatting in this post is so screwy. Blogger is really frustrating.
1 comment:
Hi sweetheart, before you make too much fun of your old camera, I should tell you that I once had one exactly like it; while I was a teenager no less. I doubt you can even get the film for it now.
I love your boots. Sorry about the size, but your father and I are responsible for that.
I love you.
GrandPa
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