Oh mon Dieu! We have a bank account! Yay and finally! It took quite a bit more effort than either of us had anticipated. Alas, we can check that huge looming task off of our “to do” list. [I love lists.] And now I am adding to our list: Fill up the new bank account. Ha ha!
After the papers were signed and we made our first deposit we walked down the street to the Crediton Farmer’s Market to sample cheese and find Jan. We usually buy fresh goat cheese from a sweet old couple who milk their own goats and make their own cheese. One kind they make has onions and horseradish in it that we love so we got some of that today. We also bought some raspberry and lemon jam. It was a little expensive however we have come to realize that store bought jelly is not really for us. My grandma Horn makes jelly every year and gives us jars for Christmas that we usually make last all year round. It’s hard to go from home made to store bought. When we first arrived here Jan snuck some of Pat’s old jam out to us. It was from 1992! Obviously we are alive and healthy; jam does not really go bad. Then my folks sent us some jelly from grandma and that was awesome! After that you may recall that we had to purchase some from the store and I dropped it the first day we had it and we were eating glass piece sandwiches for a couple weeks. So I think the Universe was saying, “Stick to home-made, kids.” I’d like to clarify something because at the time my friend, Bethany said to me, “Joanna, please throw your glass jelly away. I will buy you new jelly!” We were not eating it to save money. We were eating it because we didn’t have a way to get to the store for more. Plus, Daniel and I are sort of badass.
Our next stop was a place called, “Tucker’s” where Jan has sold some of the charcoal that he makes in his woodland. Daniel and I helped him load and unload the product and we were off again. Groceries were in order so we went to Morrison’s for food. It was especially essential for our little kitchen because last night it went like this:
Daniel “What do you want for dinner?”
Joanna “What do we have?”
Daniel “Rice.”
Joanna “I’ll go make rice.”
It was really good rice though because I found some bhuna Indian sauce and I added onions, basil, and fresh Russian kale to flavor it. I brought the hot pot up to our room and we shared the meal on our bed. Yesterday Daniel spent five hours digging up weeds and adding compost to two huge garden plots. I helped him for an hour and a half just to be outside working for a bit. He then had to ride his bike into Spreyton where earlier this week he left his wallet at a tiny store. They drove out to Grange Place to let us know he’d left his wallet there. Daniel came back upstairs and asked me, “Why didn’t they bring it with them?” We both laughed as it did seem a silly thing to do, although we are both thankful to live in a small town where folks are honest. Unfortunately the store was closed so his bike ride was just an added work out. He was physically exhausted yesterday and that is why I took dinner up to our room. He still had Open Intelligence work to complete.
Back at Grange Place to drop off our groceries Jan asked if we still wanted to go into Chagford. It had begun to sprinkle outside and I said I would still like to go. Jan had another car load of charcoal to deliver to a store there and I imagined buying more cheese. Jan said we should see Dartmoor in the rain too. We took the back roads this time and came across a tiny sign leaning up against a tree that read, “Good Pub” with an arrow pointing down a small lane. Daniel and I thought the sign was hilarious and Daniel snapped a couple photos of it. Jan laughed, “Well of course then we have to go, right?” “Right!” we both exclaimed. In back of the pub where we parked the car there was a huge old war cannon gun thing. [I’m super technically educated about weapons.] I took a few pictures of Daniel next to it, and on top of it, because for some reason he was very excited. Was the pub good? Sure. It was like most pubs we have visited over here, small, dark, less than a handful of patrons. It had a fire burning; that always pleases me. We each had the local Dartmoor cider which truly tastes like sparkling cider with a tiny kick.
I wish I could remember the name of the store where we dropped off our second load of charcoal. It is the same place Daniel and I bought our hats and egg cups. It is family owned and has been for many years. They are super friendly in there. Since Sunday night we are going to make a big salad for dinner I ran across the street to a small fruit stand to buy a couple tomatoes. When I came back to the car Jan said to me, “Joanna, do you know Daniel is one of the most light-headed people I’ve ever known? He left his hat in the store and didn’t even know it!” Apparently when he tried on his cowboy hat earlier this week he wore it out of the store instead of the Oregon ducks baseball cap he wore into the store. Thank goodness again for polite, honest proprietors.
Tomorrow in the woodland Jan is hosting an “Un-Birthday Party”. Simon, Pat, Jan, and Daniel all have close birth dates and we’re going to celebrate with friends and food. Jan says the name means that if you are one of the birthdays being honored you don’t have to bring anything. All the other party goers have to provide. It’s actually a brilliant idea. Usually when it’s your birthday and you throw the party you are providing all the food, drinks, space, and entertainment. Daniel and I are lucky with our friends though and they always contribute. Plus, a present or two might be thrown in. Score! I am going to make a black bean and rice dish for the festivities. Do you know there are no black beans in England? My folks sent us a bag because we love them. I think the United Kingdom should know what Mexican food is. Something Pat had never even heard of. I said, “Burrito? Taco?” I truly was speaking a new language to her. And when I offered to make quesadillas with the salad tomorrow Jan said she would hate them. Excuse me? I said, “Who on earth hates melted cheese?!” He answered, “Pat does.” Lord have mercy for we are in a crazy land.
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