We were cute. Though none of us knew each other well, we made quite a nice grouping: two Irish, two French and two Americans.
We spent the entire day wandering around the little town. We saw the old graveyard that was also a very old abbey which had once been overtaken and used as a military outpost, as are many religious spaces here. We walked (the wrong direction at first) about 2 miles to get to a place called The Craft Village. It's an outpost for handcrafting artists to maintain a shop and keep a living.
We had two great meals: lunch at a teahouse and scones and Irish Coffee at a Pub. Because none of us knew each other that well, I contributed to conversation around the meals by asking people about themselves. Sometimes this took the form of "What's your favorite..." Apparently the others thought this was funny and they started in; "What's your favorite game? Whats your favorite color?" They laughed in good fun and looked at me for a response. I proceeded to make everyone answer the questions.
In a final attempt to joke about the "favorites" questions, the French boy, Max, asked, "What's your favorite smell." Everyone laughed. When the small chorus died down, I said, "But wait! You have to let me answer." Silence. "The smell of my mom's apple pie."
2 comments:
You, my love, are beginning to talk like an Irish-woman: "keep a living", "scones and Irish Coffee at a Pub", what next? "I'm in the middle of me dinner, wee doll. Can you believe the cheeck of it! Do one love wud yee." (Really had to do some searching for all that!)
We all loved that favorites game! Such an easy one - can get deep or stay right on the surface.
And, sigh, I love that you love the smell of my apple pie. :o)
It does smell oh so good.
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