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They say you never forget how…

May 20, 2011

So…going back again, but not as far back as the last post…on Saturday, April 30th, I woke up, rolled out of bed, dragged a comb across my head.  And then took a very pathetic Sparkette #2 to the hospital to see if the contractions were actually doing anything.   Sparkette was still in a world of hurt but that hurtin’ didn’t seem to be translating to labor fo’ realz.  Just misery.  Non-productive misery.  Sort of like waiting in line at the post office.  We came back home and after a snack, I took a nap.

I woke from my delicious nap (all naps are delicious, unless rudely interrupted) to find that while I was sleeping someone had called for me.  Fortunately, they left a message.  A few weeks earlier Mr. Sparky and I had been in Bob’s Bicycles down in Fort Walton Beach, and they had two very nice cruisers (a men’s and a women’s) on display as part of a give-away.  Just put your name in the appropriate box, and maybe you will win this super nice Trek Allante cruiser.  I put my name in the box.  And I won.  Seriously…I WON!

So we hopped in the van and went down to Bob’s Bicycles, dragging a miserable Sparkette and the Jr. Spark, who was hanging around the house on a random visit and was happy to have an outing with us.  We sang show tunes in the van on the way to the store.

Ok, not really.  But if would have been fun if we had, because we would have competed to see who sang them the worst and made up the best new lyrics.  That’s just how we roll.  You oughta be here for a birthday serenade.  Or when the Jr. Spark and I decide to “translate” the foreign language lyrics from some Josh Groban tunes.  I mean– that guy is supremely talented.  You’d think he could find English songs to sing.  But it’s ok.  We help him out.

It turned out the bike at the shop wasn’t the right size frame for me, so they ordered me one that would fit.  I only know about four things more than nothing about bikes, so I took their word for it.  We left with the promise of a bike (which has since been fulfilled) and meandered next door to the K2 Store.  The K2 store specializes in Korean foods, groceries, and tschotskis.

Sorry I don’t know the Korean word for tschotski, but feel free to make one up if it bothers you.

The moment the door to the store opened the smell of Korea (which is garlic and cabbage and dirt during the cooler seasons) began to roll out.  But we weren’t there for sniffing.  We were there to raid the freezer section for one of the most wonderful things I’ve ever eaten in my life.  Melon Bars.  Korean melon bars are green like honeydew but they really taste like cantaloupe.  Not fake cantaloupe, either…real cantaloupe.  They are cold and creamy frozen confections on a stick.  I’ve never eaten anything remotely like them anywhere else.  You really gotta get you one.  Just go into a Korean store and ask for a melon bar.  I can guarantee  you that the Korean folk who work there will know what you’re talking about.

We ate our melon bars on the way back to the Musical Echoes festival, where I played (once again, I use that term quite loosely) a few more flutes, including the one I’d fallen for the night before.  It was still wonderful.  It still played me more than I played it.  And our budget still said no.  I sadly put it back.  Maybe someday.  But it was nice to get to play with it one more time.

Sparkette and I were scheduled to be at the hospital the next morning at 5:00 for her induction.  On Saturday the folks in labor and delivery were kind enough to let us know that they’d had a run on baby-havin’ and really didn’t have room for us until Sunday evening.  They said we could plan to come in around 8:00pm on Sunday night, though.  It was later than we’d expected, but hey…it meant we could sleep in.  Or at least attempt to.

So by the end of Saturday I had a new bike (on order) and a melon bar, but no Grandspark.  Yet.  All in all, a good day.

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