My First Race "Across the Pond"

Well, I had my first race on March 25th.  And, as with most of my races, they never really go as planned.

I was extremely excited, but nervous at the same time.  I had never run a race that was so out of my comfort zone.  The farthest from home that I've done a race was in Savannah, but that was still in my home state and I had been there once before to visit the city so I somewhat knew the terrain.  This race was situated in Northumberland.  It is called the "Border County" because it basically stretches from just north of where we live to the border of Scotland.  It is known for it's undeveloped wilderness and moors and is now largely protected as a National Park.  It is the most sparsely populated county in England with only 62 people per square kilometer.  I believe I passed more sheep on my run than people that were in the race.  I almost hopped a fence to hug one...they're so darn cute.  And the just born babies that were frolicking about all fresh and bright white?  So sweet!

Anyhow, I had twisted my ankle a week before the race.  Why I'm such a klutz I do not know.  But I stopped running at that point and never got my final training runs in.  I'm a stickler for a schedule, so missing a few days threw me off.  Then I got a chest cold which made it hard to keep my breathing stable.  Steve said I should reconsider doing the race seeing as I have another half marathon coming up in Edinburgh next month and he didn't want me to get so sick and miss out on that one because we plan on making a vacation out of it.  But I decided to forge ahead as planned.

The race started and ended in the village of Wallington.  From what I saw on the run, the village really only consists of a mansion and clock tower.  But I guess this far out in the country that's all it takes to make a town.  At the heart of this village, is a 320-year-old Palladian mansion once owned by the Trevelyan family.  The race finished just under the clock tower.  The estate is now owned by the National Trust, so the gardens and property are open for viewing.  Walking through the woods you can see the endangered Red Squirrels of the region.  They do a lot to protect the Red Squirrels here.  Funny seeing how back in Atlanta the grey ones are all over the place and you wouldn't think twice if you accidentally smacked one with your car.

A few days before the race I received my bib and instruction sheet in the mail.  The instructions clearly said "No headphones or MP3 players allowed...anyone seen with one will not be recorded in the results or be eligible for prizes."  Well, I'm not fast enough to worry about the prize part (the winner completed it lightning fast in 1:13:29) but I did want my results recorded; however slow they might be.  Unless I'm running with someone to keep me company, I need my music.  And everyone knows I've been struggling with finding someone to run with over here so my music has become my company.  So I decided to be a bit cheeky and tuck my headphones under the straps of my sports bra and just turn the music up real loud so I could hear it through my shirt.  What can I say....I'm a rule breaker.  But the thought of being caught with them deterred me from even turning them on.  Besides, with headphones in my ears how could I hear the following conversation between two runners during the race..."Blimey, there are a lot of bloody hills on this race!"  "Aye, there are."  I think I might need to get that printed on a race shirt or something.  Classic.

The first thing I noticed getting from the parking area to the clock tower was that I seemed to be one of only a few runners wearing a hat or visor; and a racing one at that.  I also appeared to be the only person wearing a technical shirt from another race.  I found that interesting for some reason.  Wearing my Ironman baseball cap and Savannah shirt, I sure felt like the odd man out.  On a side note, I have not seen any cars with stickers or magnets advertising a "13.1" or "26.2".  Maybe people here find that bragging or unnecessary?  I'm not really sure.  So, just in case, mine are still packed away...don't want to offend my host country! 

The race had 680 runners.  Tiny compared to the ones I ran in the States.  No expo, no music being blasted over loudspeakers and no timing chips.  So after the start, in which the race director shot off what looked and sounded like an actual loaded gun, the pack quickly cleared out.  There was no need to run around people jockeying for a better position but I also couldn't take my time in the crowd to warm up to a nice pace like I usually do.  I quickly found myself running faster than I should have at that point.  I thought I'd better slow down if I wanted to make it to the finish with my lungs still in my chest.  But oddly enough, my breathing was normal and better yet I felt sure footed on my ankle.  Within a couple of miles I zoned out, thought of my running friends and hit race pace.  I did make sure to take it all in though.  For the race would've meant nothing if I didn't take a moment every so often to think about where I was and what I was doing.  Little old me...running the English countryside in a half marathon.  Who would've thought.

The finish couldn't have come soon enough though.  I was done.  "Stick a fork in me" kind of done.  It was warm, mid 60's and hilly beyond what I was ever used to back home.  The ending was the best part though.  As we all funneled into the chute right after the finish clock, waiting for our numbers to be recorded, everyone shook hands to the runner in front of them and behind them wishing them "congratulations" and "job well done, mate."  I was totally caught off guard.  Were they doing this because the race was so small that it had a family feel or is that just the English way?  Well, there's only one way to find out...I guess I'll just have to sign up for more races!

29th in my age group out of 102

Home Sweet Home

I've been waiting for a while to take pictures of our place.  So, with our first guest arriving and having the house spotless, if only for a few hours because I do have two boys after all, I figured it would be the perfect time to blog.

Our house is a semi-detached house.  Funny really, because we share walls on either side (cinder block walls which I realized trying to hammer in nails to hang pictures...two blows and the nail bent!).  I guess it's because there are blocks of four houses together that are detached from the rest?  In any event, we are the second of four houses.  As I stated before we live on a side street from the main street.  Not really a cul-de-sac, but the only people that drive down the street are the people that live here so there is hardly any traffic.  So I can safely send the kids out to ride scooters or play soccer around the chapel.

The neighborhood is quite large and varied with mostly semi-detached 2 story houses and detached single/double story houses.  The style of the semi-detached ones are mostly the same, built with the same brick and having the same layout of the front door, garage, etc.  I will admit that it looks slightly boring for lack of a better word.  I really liked our neighborhood in Atlanta where all the houses had some character.  There is no HOA here so some houses are done up quite interestingly.  You'll have one with a beautiful yard and sparkling clean windows and a few houses down there will be one with weeds waist high and curtains all askew.

The neighborhood was built after WWII.  From what I've heard, a lot of neighborhoods were built by the city council in an effort to get the city back on it's feet after the war.  I think this is one reason why the houses all look so much alike.

Another interesting fact is that since all the houses are attached, the backyards (or gardens as they are called) cannot be entered from anywhere but the back of the house.  So if we need to get bikes out from the shed in the back we have to wheel them through the kitchen.

So let the tour begin!

The entryway from the front door.  The clocks above the mirror are from the time zones that mean the most to me....Maui, Atlanta and Newcastle.

Looking upstairs from the entryway.  The stairs to the left go to Mark's bedroom and bathroom and the ones to the right lead up to the guest room, our room, Jack's room and the other bathroom.  A lot squeezed in on one side, but oddly enough it works.

Our kitchen looking from the dining room.  The freezer is the bottom 3rd cabinet from the end and the fridge right next to it.  Tiny!  But I've been getting used to the size.  I only cook several nights a week, having leftovers the other nights and going out one night.  So I really don't have the fridge filled with a weeks worth of food like in Atlanta.  But I do have to strategically place things on the shelves.  It's like Jenga in there....one wrong move and everything comes tumbling out!

Overlooking our garden.  We share a fence wall with no less than four other people.  Whose responsibility is it to fix a broken fence then?

The kitchen from the breakfast bar.  The kids eat here on school mornings so I can keep watch over them while I'm making their lunches.  Since the dining room is separate (through the opening in the right of the picture) this keeps the peace.

The hob.  Quick quiz from my FB translation posting a couple of months back...what's a hob?  That's right, a cook top!  Still trying to get used to the gas...not a big fan.  The door in the right of the picture leads to the garage.

The "office".  This is looking from the conservatory, or as we call it, the playroom.

The playroom.  It's all glass with a tile floor so it's gets quite cold in the mornings.  We have a space heater that we hooked up to a timer so it comes on automatically on the weekend morning so the kids can play without becoming popsicles.  According to the landlord it warms up quite nicely during the summer...we'll see about that.

The dining room.  This overlooks the garden in the back.  I found these amazing, vintage London Underground prints at TK Maxx and just had to have them.  Owned by the same company as TJ Maxx.  And yes, just as addictive.

The family room.  Not used to having it at the front of the house.  Especially with the sidewalk right there.  But like I said, we're not on a busy street so very few people walk by.  I decided against painting the walls.  I've always liked purple, just not so much of it.  It's the blue carpet that really kills me!










 View from the dining room to family room.  It's just a stone's throw away!

The garden in the back; view from the dining room.












Jack's room.  It was used as an office so there are a lot of built in cubbies.  Perfect for storing all his bits and bobs (English term for odds and ends).

Jack's room is too small for a wardrobe so I got creative and screwed in eye hooks on the bottom of the cubbies so he can hang his clothes.  The plastic containers above house his "unmentionables".

Mark's room.  His is a bit bigger.  We could've brought his bed and dresser and they would've fit, but we didn't have exact measurements so it would've been a waste to bring all that and have to either store it or sell it.












The bathroom on Mark's side of the house that both boys use.

















The bathroom on the other side of the house.  Not a big fan of the seashell motif on the tiles, but I love gray so it goes well with the towels we already had and all my silver accessories.

The shower had this god awful glass enclosure.  It was screwed to the wall with a fixed panel then five or six glass panels that could be pivoted to form a semi circular enclosure across the tub so spray from the shower head would not get everywhere.  Cool concept, but the thing kept moving.  So you'd set it to where you wanted it, shampoo up with eyes closed so nothing dripped in to sting them.  But once you opened your eyes that thing had moved and was just inches from your face!  It was like it was alive and attacking you.

The master bedroom.  It overlooks the front.  Our American king size bed b-a-r-e-l-y fits.  I had a heck of a time trying to find nightstands that were narrow enough and still allowed the door to be opened with enough space to enter the room without shimming in sideways.

Ahhh, built in wardrobe.  Luxury!

The guest room.  Ready and waiting for guests!











The wardrobes we assembled from Ikea and they house all our off season clothing and workout gear (since the ones in the master bedroom can't fit everything.)  In fact this whole room is from Ikea.  The bed, nightstands, lamps, bedding, chest, prints...even the alarm clock and plant on the window sill.  Did I mention how much I love that place?

I downloaded some old pictures off the camera the other day and found a bunch I took from our house in Atlanta after all our things were moved out.  On one hand I got teary eyed just seeing it, but on the other hand I was shocked at how "large" we lived.  Did we really need all that space?  Wait.  Let me look for a sec from the computer at my surroundings....uh, yep, we did. :)

So that's it!  Our neighborhood and humble abode.  We are getting used to all their quirks.  Like the flock of 172 crows that seem to congregate in the trees at the chapel across the street every day and makes the kids run from the front door to the car for fear of being attacked.  Like the water heater that has no max temperature safety setting and heats water so hot it will boil a potato in about a minute if you hold it under the faucet.  Like being able to tell what laundry day it is for the neighbors that have no tumble dryer; sheets today, underwear tomorrow.  And like having the dining room and family room so close together I feel like we're living at a Hampton Inn.

And now that the weather is finally improving and the garden in back is blooming with all sorts of bulbs and the fruit trees are flowering, we'll get a patio table and chairs.  And you know where we'll get it from.  That's right... Ikea.

A recipe and history lesson all in one

With a long training run coming up on Saturday of 12 miles, I needed carbs for dinner the night before.  I'm starting to get bored of pasta and garlic bread, so I decided to make a rice based dish.  After scouring my recipe books and not really finding anything that sounded interesting, I came across the idea of Chicken Tikka Masala because it's traditionally served with rice and bread.  I had heard of this dish the first time we visited London back in '94.  But I'm not a big fan of curry dishes so I didn't pay it much attention back then.  It wasn't until we moved here a couple of months ago that I decided to give it a try...new places, new things to enjoy I thought.  I'm glad I did because I think I found my new fav dish!  Chicken, cream sauce, rice, bread...what's not to love?!

Now I'm not one to just find a recipe and make it.  I take my time in the kitchen very seriously, especially when it comes to making something I've never made before.  So I went to my ever trusty America's Test Kitchen website.  I have come to refer to their cooking techniques for pretty much every dish I make.  And every time I do, I have never had anything bad.  It's like a Consumers Reports on food, kitchen equipment and cooking and baking.  A must for anyone passionate about what happens in the kitchen like me.

In addition to finding a recipe and making it, I also like to know the history of the dishes I make.  I know, I'm nerdy like that.  But I like knowing where ingredients come from, why things are cooked the way they are, how the cooking/baking process works, etc.  Plus it's fun when I can throw facts out at the dinner table about what we're eating.  Like, "Did you know that "tikka" means bites or pieces in Persian and "masala" means mixture of spices?"

I started scouring the web for more info on the dish and it turns out it actually has quite the storied history so I decided to dedicate a blog entry to it.  It goes a little something like this:

About 5000 years ago when tandoor clay ovens were invented, locals in India were beginning to raise chickens at the same time and realized cooking one in a tandoor made for a tasty combination.  The small bite sized pieces (which are now called ‘tikka’) came into existence thanks to Emperor Babur, the founder of the Mughal dynasty in South Asia.  Apparently he was so sick of choking on the chicken bones, that he ordered his Punjabi chefs to remove the bones before cooking the meat in the tandoor.  The resulting delicacy was called – Joleh, Persian for Tikka.

Over the course of time, the recipe was altered to include marinating the chicken in yogurt and spices. Chicken Tikka became a popular dish with all classes throughout the Mughal empire.

During and after India's independence movement from the British, the Brits exported back to England a lot from their life in India – some of which included Curries.  Somehow, the tandoor oven, essential at the time for making Chicken Tikka, didn’t appeal to them so it didn't make the "export" cut.  But, in the 1950s there was a flood of immigration from the Indian subcontinent to UK and Indian restaurants were opening all over the country.

It is commonly believed that the British version of Chicken Tikka Masala originated in an Indian restaurant run by a Bangladeshi chef.  According to folklore, a British gentleman sometime in the 1960s, decided his Chicken Tikka was too dry and demanded a better dish.  The chef, either out of inspiration or desperation, tossed in a can of Campbell’s tomato soup, sprinkled in some spices and added some yogurt to the dish.  450 years after Babur’s reign, this hybrid dish came into being in Glasgow and was christened Chicken Tikka Masala.

Nearly 15% of all curries sold in Britain is the Chicken Tikka Masala.  And in April 2001, Robin Cook,  Foreign Secretary to the Social Market Foundation in London, declared Chicken Tikka Masala as "Britian's true national dish."
 
Right, enough history...time to get my hands dirty!

Once I found the recipe I wanted, I started making a list of everything I needed....and I needed a lot.  Some things I had never used before, like Garam Masala (the spice mixture used in the sauce which includes pepper, cinnamon, coriander and cardamom) and tumeric (used to give the rice flavor and its signature yellow color) and Cardamom (pods that I had to break open to get to the spice inside and then grind...why they don't sell this already ground I have no idea.)  And since I'm still learning my way around the market it took me a long time to get everything together for this dish.  Very rarely do I just run in and get something like I used to do at Publix.  Every trip is a learning experience.

So I got all the ingredients and looked at the timeline of how long it would take.  The spice mixture needed to sit on the chicken and marinate.  Then the chicken needed to be coated in a yogurt, grated garlic/ginger mixture and broiled until slightly charred.  The rice needed to be cooked and finally the dough for the bread needed to rise.  Yes, I made my own bread.  Naan bread is typically served with this dish.  I could've bought the bread pre-made, but I went for broke and did it all.

In the end, the dish was amazing and worth all my effort.  It took me most of the day to make.  Jack of course, picked through his.  But hearing Mark and Steve ask for seconds and then thirds made it worth my time.

Plus I ran like the dickens on Saturday morning.  :)

Naan Bread

If you are so inclined and have half the day to spare, here are the recipes I used.

For the Chicken Tikka Masala

http://www.cooksillustrated.com/recipes/detail.asp?docid=8637

For the Naan Bread:

http://uktv.co.uk/food/recipe/aid/534227

For the rice:

2 cups Basmati rice (rinsed until water runs clear)
1 teaspoon of salt
1 tablespoon of ground Turmeric
1 teaspoon of ground cardamom
4 cups water
Combine all in a rice cooker, stir to mix; then set it and forget it!  If you don't have a rice cooker, then cook the rice like you normally would.  When the rice is done, stir in some frozen peas and the heat from the rice will warm the peas through perfectly in a few minutes.

Barnard Castle

Another weekend....another castle.  This past weekend we took a drive to Barnard Castle.  Located about an hour south of Newcastle in County Durham, we were out of the city in a matter of minutes and back into countryside.  Hello sheepalings! (what the kids affectionately call the sheep.)  The surrounding market town is also called Barnard Castle, which caused us a little confusion on the SatNav as we were approaching the area.  It said "You have reached your destination" but we saw no castle.  It wasn't until we parked and headed down the hill and around a corner that we actually saw it.  It sits on a hill overlooking the River Tees.  And when I say it overlooks the river, I mean it overlooks the river.  If it were any closer, it would actually be IN the river.  I wish I had taken a picture of the sheer cliff it sits on with the river straight below.  It would've been impossible to stage an attack on this castle from the river.  Good thinking on the planning commissions part!

The River Tees and County Bridge.  This is the only bridge that crosses so close to the castle and I'm sure heavily defended because of it.  It dates back to 1569.

Brief History


The castle was founded by the Normans shortly after their conquest of the area in the 12th century but it enjoyed its heyday under Barnard de Bailliol during the latter half of the 12th century.  This is where the castle gets its name.  The castle passed into the hands of the Balliol family after Barnard's death and then into the possession of Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick.  King Richard III inherited it through his wife, Anne Neville but it fell into ruins in the century after his death.

Outline of the grounds and all it's "wards".

Details of the Castle


The Middle Ward was also known as the "Many Gates" because it linked the other three wards of the castle.  It served as a fortified entry area through which every visitor had to pass in order to get into the Inner Ward.


The Outer Ward was the largest of the four wards and contained the 'market' gate which was the main entrance to the castle from the town.  Within the Outer Ward was the manorial farm (the kids thought this was funny as they thought I said manure-ial the first time) and the Chapel of St. Margaret. 


In the mid-14th century Barnard Castle was in the ownership of Thomas Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick.  During this period most of the Outer Ward was abandoned and the Town Ward had at least one of its buildings torn down.  A large building was constructed in the Middle Ward to replace the buildings in the other wards.  This way the castle was reduced almost entirely to just the Middle and Inner Wards and therefore became smaller and cheaper to run.  I guess even the Earl had to downsize.

An artists rendering of the castle in the 14th century.

The hill coming down towards the bottom of the picture is called the Great Ditch.  If anyone actually made it through the castle walls, they'd have this hill to overcome to get to the main castle quarters.  Not an easy feat if you're weighed down by chain mail and being shot at with flaming arrows!  Of course the kids tried and failed miserably; rolling down the ditch and getting covered in mud.

Mortham Tower.  It was at least five storeys (yes, that's how they spell stories out here) high and was used as a lookout tower.  It was built in the 14th century at the same time as the final version of the Great Hall.

Second storey of the Great Hall; overlooking the River Tees.

Throwing rocks into the Great Ditch.  A favorite pastime.

I loved the way the sunlight hit this staircase in this picture from the Round Tower.

Our photographer, Jack.

In addition to the castle there is a sensory garden.  Not nearly as old as the castle, it was built in 2002... a newborn by comparison.  Although most everything was in hibernation, there were already some flowers blooming and braving the wind and chill.  We'll have to go back in the summer because then there will be marjoram, lavender and thyme growing and I'm sure it will smell wonderful.

After we left the castle we decided to venture down the streets of the town of Barnard Castle.  The town is filled with shops, pubs and boutiques.  Unfortunately, since it was Sunday, most everything was closed.  But there was a sandwich shop open so we grabbed a bite, sat on a park bench, enjoyed the sunshine and watched the people go by...even some guy on a buggy being pulled by a horse.

Some guy cruising the main drag with a horse and buggy.

And there you have it....a look see at Barnard Castle.


All the images were taken by us except for the first one.  Thanks to www.english-heritage.org.uk for the use of that image.  As you would imagine we didn't arrive to the castle in a helicopter to capture that amazing aerial shot.  But I'm sure if we did, we wouldn't have missed it like we did when we first arrived.

Shrove Tuesday

Also called Pancake Day!

What is Pancake Day?

Pancake Day is the last day before the period which Christians call Lent. It is tradition on this day to eat pancakes.

Why are pancakes eaten on Shrove Tuesday?

Shrove Tuesday is the last chance to indulge yourself, and to use up the foods that aren't allowed in Lent.  Pancakes are eaten on this day because they contain fat, butter and eggs which were forbidden during Lent. 

When is Shrove Tuesday?

Shrove Tuesday is celebrated the day before Ash Wednesday and is therefore the final day before the commencement of Lent.  Shrove Tuesday always falls 47 days before Easter Sunday, so the date varies from year to year and falls between 3 February and 9 March.

Why is it called "Shrove"? 

  

The name "shrove" comes from the old word "shrive" which means to confess. On Shrove Tuesday, in the Middle Ages, people used to confess their sins so that they were forgiven before the season of Lent began.

Now, I'm not a religious person, but I was more than happy to partake in this particular celebration.  Thanks to the RE in the kid's school for the excerpts for this blog.  

Here are the pancakes (two sweet, one savory) I made for dinner.....

Shredded chicken, cabbage and carrot stir fry with hoisin sauce

Homestyle....pure and simple

Peanut butter pancakes with homemade blackberry sauce

Grainger Market

In the never ending quest to find things to do with the kids while they were on half term, we found our way to Grainger Market in downtown Newcastle on Thursday.  Of course the adventure started, as it always does, with the drive.  Although I'm getting better at tooling around town, downtown is completely different.  With it's one way streets, bus access only streets, pedestrian only streets and hidden parking garages, just getting to our destination is an adventure in itself.  I have to remember to dress lightly as I always seem to break a sweat trying to find my way around.

As is with any city, you can't just really pull up and park right in front of the building you want to go to; parking is limited.  The market is situated right smack in the middle of a part of the city that is pedestrian only.  When the SatNav says "You have arrived at your destination" you are actually just slowly driving by in front of the building trying not to blink for fear of missing it.  What it should say is "You have arrived at your destination...good luck getting parking because there ain't any here lady."

Grey's Monument

So, after circling the area and I think driving down a bus only street at one point where everyone seemed to be shooting me daggers, I finally found parking on the outskirts of the square.  It's at this point that you can take in all the scenery and enjoy the walk to your destination passing all the boutiques, cafes, flower shops, monuments, and yes...chocolate shops.  But with two kids running amuck, the fairy tale bubble quickly burst as I seemed to constantly yell "Watch where you're going!" and "Don't climb on that sacred WWII memorial!" and "Stop picking up trash!"

With the help of two locals, we found the market.  Grainger Market is the City's largest traditional market.  It's in a classically styled building (meaning lots of iron work) near Grey's Monument.  The indoor market was the largest in Europe when it was first build in 1835.  Some of the characteristics of the original market are still there.  Such as the weigh house.  It was once used to weigh hunks of meat, but now the shoppers can line (or queue) up to be weighed.  I passed on this offer as I don't want to be considered just a hunk of meat.  It sells mainly meat and produce, but we came across many stalls that sold baked goods, teas, pastries, flowers, cards, clothing, music and books....just to name a few things.

Everywhere I turned there was meat.  All sorts of cuts from all sorts of animals.  From cows, to pigs, to chickens, to lambs, to fish (is that classified as meat?)  Anyway, there was meat 

pie, meat on a stick, rolled meat, minced meat, meat on the bone, meat stuffed in casings...I could go on. 

 

I asked one of the butchers, when I saw that they offered brisket, if they could cut a piece that was flat (they had theirs rolled).  He said they get the whole cow and I could have whatever cut I wanted however I wanted it.  When I asked out of curiosity how they cooked the rolled brisket, they said they steam it for corned beef and rolling it just helps keep it together.  He asked how I would prepare one that was laid flat as he's never heard of that method and I said I smoke it.  Cue laughter...he thought that was the funniest thing!  He actually held his fingers up to his mouth, motioning like he was holding a cigarette.  Once the weather warms up and we get a grill, I'm going to go back to him to buy my brisket and offer to bring him a sample with some good ol' fashioned homemade BBQ sauce.  Who will be laughing then?!  

Then there were all the fruit/veg stalls.  Every kind of fruit from quince to bramble berries (like blackberries) to currents.  And no less than ten types of potatoes?

 

I wanted to pick something up for dinner but comparison shopping, as I always do for things, is not only difficult because there are so many stalls that sell the same thing, but really not necessary because the pricing is all very competitive.  I guess you just end up going to the one with the nicest people?  Which is what I did for our fish.  It appeared that it was run by just a husband and wife and they were very knowledgeable about their offerings.  I got two trout that where caught the night before.  They gutted them, but had them leave the heads and tails on.  

  

The kids flipped..."You're making us eat the heads?!?!"  My response..."I will if you don't behave on the walk back."  The horror!  I love messing with them sometimes.  But it worked...they walked nicely beside me all the way from the market back to the parking garage. :)

It was a great day at the market.  I will return again, but next time I will take the bus!