I am warm, comfy, with tummy full of sarmele and crab salad. In my bed after a day that seemed so full, but yet, I really didn't do anything besides the usual constant observation of traditions and customs.
Thus, I am suffering from a simmering headache that is telling me to lay of the daily parhar de vin and shots of cognac. However, I do take today as an exception, it is my host dad's birthday and he sure deserves a day to himself.
Speaking of it being my host dad's birthday, here is a funny story... All day today, my host dad has spent about 90% of his day at the masa, receiving toasts, serving food and having conversation overload (which is what he is really good at, talking), and drinking. Well, by the time I got home from visiting Olga and Liliana I found myself locked out of the house. I went to the hiding spot and the key wasn't there. It seemed like they'd left, the front porch light wasn't on, but usually when they leave they leave me a key. I figured they'd thought I would come home late or that they'd simply forgotten to leave the key. It was very strange, both the casa mica and mare were closed. I searched for other hiding spots and found old keys, in which, I tried every which one of them.
After about 20 minutes of sitting out in the cold and texting my friends, I observed that the window to the TV room is flickering with light. Thus, I figured someone had to be home, for they would never leave the TV on if they are not home. I called, and sure enough, my host dad attentively answered the phone. He came to the door not knowing that he accidentally locked my host mom and himself inside the house. I entered the house laughing so hard. "Only in Moldova," Veronica said in answer to my text.
1 comment:
Interesting story, but I am wondering the Jethro Tull connection. Listening to them when you wrote it? You know I'm a big Tull fan.
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