Sitting in the window of my apartment, watching the lightning. The thunder is distant now, and the rain has died away. Earlier we wandered down to the Potomac and took some photos as the thunderstorm was first rolling in, only to scarper home when we saw a solid sheet of water coming towards us.
An important moral question arose over the weekend. As I talked to some fellow Australians I had met at the crag, we resolved a few important questions for some of the non-Australians. Marmite or Vegemite (Vegemite, of course). Vitabrits or Weetbix (Weetbix). Chicken or Cheese Twisties (Cheese). But then came the debate of Violet Crumble versus the Crunchie. But on this divisive issue the Australians could not concur. I’ve come to the conclusion that the Violet Crumble and Crunchie, both delicious chocolate covered honeycomb snacks, both have their place in the Australian psyche, and that the choice between the two must be purely a conscience vote.
Please feel free to vote in the Great Violet Crumble versus Crunchie referendum here.
Now my crash pad looks much more exciting. AND it has a moose. What more could I ask for? (courtesy of the graphic stylings of Mr. Ocean)
A long (long) weekend was spent in Kentucky. I failed in my quest to find fried chicken, although I did manage to find good American pizza (I’d begun to assume such a thing didn’t exist). But I totally recommend Miguel’s Pizza, near Slade. They’ll put just about anything on the pizza – my favourite from the weekend was the BBQ and lemon chicken with pineapple, mango and avacado. Although I’m sure finding the perfect combination of pizza toppings could become a never-ending quest. One that I’m fully prepared to undertake.
Inbetween all the climbing, I managed to meet some fireflies, and win a set of Wild Country Zeros. Now I just need to continue this tend of winning things, and I can begin my endless climbing holiday.
I have a functioning laptop again, hooray! Despite the UPS man’s best attempts to escape with it, I saw him out of my window, and chased him down the street, barefoot.
(Oh, and I didn’t throw my old one out the window, despite earlier threats. It is, however, sitting in the corner in disgrace.)