Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Treats from Home.
My parents and I were never big on Christmas. I wasn't deprived child or anything, but we just only ever exchange a few gifts -- usually a Hawley-Cooke gift certificate and some clothes. This year was a biggie though, even if I got it a few weeks after Christmas: My parents came to Scotland!
They also came bearing gifts -- wee, but mighty. We have needed various material things, but we refuse to buy them for several reasons.
1) We don't want to buy anything we can't take home with us. And we aren't shipping boxes. Everything comes back in the same suitcases that came with us.
2) We don't have the money to spend on little Ikea marketplace items that cavemen lived without. Student budget, anyone? In a country where the dollar is basically worth a shilling?
Here's what they brought:
A wooden spoon (technically, a wooden spork):
Our kitchen is "furnished," but not to the spoiled American standard. It's not even furnished to a spoiled Scottish standard. I can live without my Kitchenaid Stand Mixer, but the lack of a simple wooden spoon was torture.
A spatula that actually gets underneath things:
There are two spatulas in our weakly-furnished kitchen, but both have been loved by previous tenants. They were burned and crusty long before our arrival. I'm pretty sure the neighbor thinks David & I get into shouting matches at breakfast, but it's just me screaming expletives because I cannot flip an egg. Thanks to my parental units, we now own our own spatula.
A few ex-pats have told me they have found chocolate chips, but I've yet to experience that thrill. Until my parents showed up with two bags. It's cookie season!
Hugs from home:
Hugs are worth ten billion wooden spoons.
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