|A shop that has these signs outside? Go on then. Twist my arm.|
It's an out and about day for me. This morning I wrapped myself in scarves and gloves, (no doubt I resembled an ewok), bundled the dorje-dog in my little red car, (with her sitting very upright, and grinning at the prospect of a drive); and sped off up the mountain for a bit of a rummage.
At some point, there may have been oven roasted mushrooms with balsamic rocket. There was moste definitely a roaring medieval kind of fire in a great stone hearth, with me perched nearby, journal and pen spread out on a table.
|The Witchetty tree.|
There was also a dear little shop of sorcery, stories, and spells. I couldn't quite squeeze into the lolly shop though, because it was tiny, and filled with lovely Italians tourists.
So I stood on the front steps of said shop and listened to them talk for a minute, because I could listen to Dante's language until the cows come home. Unfortunately I can't understand a word of it, because during my one semester learning Italian at uni, I was more interested in dolce than declension.
I also met a little dog, a sausage-y kind of dog, with ridiculous ears that kept accidentally turning inside-out, (due to his enthusiasm). He could smell the dorje-dog on me, and decided that he liked that. So he followed me about his shop, and persuaded me to buy 4 tree lanterns. And so I did. Because, tree lanterns, you know. Although the task of hanging them in a tree is not nearly as happy as all those romantickal pinterest images would have one believe.
|There's Mrs Miggins, helpfully playing "Where's Wally", whilst I attempt to hang lanterns.|
|A couple of tree lanterns. Hanging nonchalantly. Not very practical is it? *sigh*.|
Do have yourselves a brilliant weekend, won't you? And if you can go for a rummage somewhere, it's quite restorative. Ciao*. xxx
*See what I did there?