Heidi (my best mate from my Peace Corps days) and her son Matĕj came to my parents’ house to get me this morning.
Heidi does not live in the mountains nor does she herd goats. Matĕj is 8 ½ years old. Most people call him Mat; I have called him Buttface since he was a baby (big cheeks), and Heidi often calls him Monkey(!!).
We went to
I asked Heidi questions DD had asked me that I had not been able to answer definitively: How far is
Heidi talked about their recent visit to the
We walked on the beach after lunch, dipped our feet in the ocean and watched Mat playing in the wet sand. Heidi and I wondered how someone can get so much pleasure from flinging handfuls of mud into the sea. Kids are weird.
We spotted a very large ship to the south, decided it was a battleship and thus began our first quest of the afternoon.
Heidi: “Come on, Mat, we’re going to find a battleship.”
Heidi: “Why? There is no why. Whose kid are you?”
We drove down
Heidi had remembered that there was a Czech pub nearby so we decided to go in search of that. “Funny how our quest has changed from a battleship to a beer,” she remarked.
We found the pub, Czech Point (cringe), at The sign on the door said that it opened at 5, so we popped into the Mexican place next door for some non-alcoholic refreshment. We waited for .
Heidi to Mat: “You can get some fried cheese if you can remember how to say it in
A suddenly excited Mat said straight away, “Smažený sýr.” Well done, Buttface.
We walked over to Czech Point at 5, but the door was still locked. I took a closer look at the sign and saw that it was closed on Tuesdays. We laughed at ourselves and our second failed quest. We decided to drive back to mine.
En route, we spotted a licence plate frame that said “*** Jesus ***” and “He died ***