Sigyn is talking a mile-a-minute about the “beautiful churches” she saw this morning. Don’t forget to draw breath, my love. I fear you will hyperventilate in all of your cute enthusiasm. In any case, it is time for lunch, so you need to pause a while and eat something.
The tour group (looks mostly like clones of the humans–folks of that “certain age”, wearing comfortable shoes and practical haircuts) has appropriated the back room of a very casual, country style restaurant. No doubt the proprietors are glad to have them in the back room, away from normal customers.
Odin’s eyepatch! Everyone has just been issued a vinyl glove. What are we meant to do with this? Oh. Apparently it is for handling the spoons on the buffet line. Is that to protect the food from the people or the people from the food???
The offerings look fairly pedestrian. Choice of chicken, sausage, or a pork…thing. Vegetables and various carbohydrate-laden sides. Bread. Salad.
It’s colorful enough but, sadly, not really terribly good. Too much salt in the meat and green beans and not enough crisp in the vegetables. Sigyn’s not worried though. She’s chattering away with our tablemates and casting a longing eye at the dessert offerings.
Peach cobbler or bread pudding? It’s one of life’s toughest questions.
One for which Sigyn has a lemon-sauced answer. She has pronounced this, “yummy.” I gather it tastes better than it looks.
This dining establishment has a gift shop attached, fully stocked with a plethora of unusual items. I think I shall purchase some of these seasoning blends as gifts for the human male’s mother.
Let’s see him try to explain when she unwraps them.
Sigyn wants to buy this shiny jukebox.
It’s very quaint. I believe it comes with this dining table and chairs, along with a musical selection device. But I do not think the chairs would be very comfortable.
This display says “Gund for Baby.”
Ehehehehe! I did not know that the stuffed toy manufacturer had branched out into barware…
Great Frigga’s Corset! We dawdled too long! The tour group is leaving! Hurry! Back to the car!
The weather, which has been spitting rain all morning, has chosen this moment to precipitate in earnest.
There is no sign of the tour guide’s red pickup truck, and the list of churches we have does not have addresses, so the humans aren’t sure where to go or how to get there. And are you sure you know which of the remaining two you are supposed to be visiting next? I suppose you have a 50-50 chance…
There are two cars behind us, also left behind, and the human female is frantically googling. The next church is supposedly in Praha, but looking it up doesn’t help much, since these tiny rural churches are usually listed as belonging to the nearest viable town, not the historical, no-longer-really-there town that is in their name. GoogleMaps doesn’t seem to ever have heard of Praha. Not only that, but half of the churches in these parts have “St. Mary” somewhere in the title. Could the one listed in Flatonia be the one they want?
I have it figured out, but I’m not telling. The car behind us thinks they know, so they are now going to lead as our ragtag group of three vehicles turns around. I guess all you can do is pray I haven’t been switching road signs around and hope for the best.