Adventures with Oma - Wednesday

On Wednesday it rained. I think it's supposed to rain on Wednesdays, for the old rhyme says "Wednesday's child is full of woe" which is suggestive of rain. There couldn't be much woe on a sunny day, could there? Perhaps this explains the hint of tragedy I often suspect is lurking on the edges of my life: I was born on a Wednesday. It could all be in our minds, us Wednesday folk, but it might also be true. (I also happen to be a Leo, and very proud of it, and a Rooster, and crow about it. I put great stock in those sorts of things, love to find out what my favourite colour says about me, and have read extensively about my Myers-Briggs type. But I do not put any stock in daily horoscopes. Nonsense.)

Anyway, back to the rain. It came down in buckets - literally hollywoodesque torrents of dramatic rain came from the heavens. But Oma and I had decided to explore Sohoe, and so explore we did. (Oma is a proud daughter of the Netherlands, for whom battles with water from sea or sky is a way of life) There are two main streets to Sohoe which bisect to form a rough, loopy kind of 'T' shape. I had poor Oms (as Three calls her) driving up and down both branches of that T so many times I may almost have ended up on the side of the road, holding a broken umbrella over my head.

We investigated a shop dedicated to the humble peanut (rather a weakness of Oma's), an organic market and restaurant (whose interpretation of 'market' turned out to mean 'shelf of expensive organic-type stuff'), a garden centre, at which I bought our first potted plants of the season - a lovely mossy thing, and something called 'Pearl Bells'. So pretty! Oma got a Dutch Hoe, for which she had long been searching, and a really beautiful hand-blown glass hummingbird feeder. Then on we went to a tea room for lunch, only it was closed until Mother's Day (apparently tea is out of season until then), an interesting yarn shoppe (thankfully not Old-e Yarn-e which is likely to be mold-e), the library to refresh our storytime selection for the smallest Peanuts, and finally to lunch at a cafe/restaurant on the high street. The food there was quite good - the menu was simple and featured local ingredients, a big plus for me since reading the 100 mile book. But their chairs were oddly low. Sort of half way between a regular chair and a Japanese mat. Why? Did they come cheaper than regulation-height chairs because they used less wood for the legs? I'm still baffled.

Rather wet, and having exhausted most of what Sohoe has by way of high street shopping, we returned to the warm and cozy House of Peanuts. Oma deserves a medal for enduring the numerous trips up and down the same roads in the driving rain. Well done, old-e bean-e!