Well as much as I’d love to say that last Sunday started out with a fresh chorus at church, fact is…. I slept in. Until mum woke me to fulfill my promise of going to the meat market with her ( somewhere I’ve been going a lot more often than church lately).
A splatter of blood across my cropped jeans brought me back from crushing candies to the bustling noise of the meat stall. Since mum was in a good mood it only meant one thing- heavier cargo was on its way. Right enough we walked (just barely) out of the stall with over 8 kilos of meat!
Just outside the meat stall was the fish and before that, the vegetables! So the shopping didn’t stop until we were in the safe confines of our auto…… Or so I thought.
There we were, a few 100 meters to home , decreasing by the minute buzzing past the smell of wheat being powdered and eggs being fried on Millers road when all of a sudden mum made an alarm to stop. She had caught a glimpse of the neon lights of the pork shop. Grinding to a stop ( very gradual grind considering we landed about 7′ away from the shop and had to backtrack) mum was out and away, since it meant that bacon was on its way I refrained from whining and complaining.
Home at last and yet another wake to my creaking muscles as I lugged our spoils up the stairs. I was beat.