Ah, with St Patrick's day looming it was a chance to remember that the Irish haven't only contributed early morning pre-urgent-train doctors trips in Prague to my life. I went to Dani Bristol's house for dinner on Mon with Becky Sunshine and she'd dug up some hearty jacket potatoes for us. She'd promoted them from their humble roots with a most civilised salade of lettuce, tomatoes, onions, cucumber, beetroot, walnuts and raisons. It was all a marriage of extreme convenience with the addition of cheese and beans. Ooh they'll be no famine here!
Unfortunately the potatoes had brought some sorrow to the table because poor Sparkle's one wasn't cooked. Was as hard inside as the Irish's hearts when they got Bob drunk and threw her only shoes in the Cesky Krumluv river.
Whoops. Well Dani and Becky and I thoroughly enjoyed dins before snuggling up on the sofa.
It was like previous tastes of the emerald isle had all been a bad dream.
STwhat now?
Bye for now lacies xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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