All of it this weekend! Hooray!
K. So here goes. It was the husband’s birthday this weekend, and while I often complain that he is unromantic, I am potentially the Least Romantic Person in the History of Ever, so when he said he’d planned out his birthday, I said, “whew!” He had wanted to go to flea markets, but the ones he’d found had all closed up shop, so we went to Dreamland Barbecue early (oh. my. gods. best. barbecue. ever.), then to an awesome Army surplus store (I almost bought both a manual for how to use a bayonet properly, and a manual for speaking common Malaysian phrases, but then looked at them and decided that I should just stick with Hindi, even though it doesn’t teach me how to use a bayonet properly).
Then, on the way to the next thing, we stopped to gawk at the Unknown Castle.
(Shamelessly linked from here; the Flickr photos are unlinkable, and I can’t get my cameraphone photos to transfer to my computer) So. This thing was built by a Roswell couple a quarter of a century ago. It’s the size of a regular bungalow. Not only does it sport gnomes on the fence posts, but it also has a moat that doubles as a swimming pool. Made. of. Awesome.
After that, there was some antiquing, during which I purchased some more old-timey photos (I like the blurry ones, the awkward-looking ones, and the ones that are obviously snapshots from a family vacation, circa 1910). I got a great one of a man with the most spectacular facial hair I’ve seen in a while. The husband did not seem interested in emulating said hirsute gentleman.
And then, for reasons unbeknownst to me, the husband suggested that we hit some Indian shops. So we went to a grocery store, and then to a sari shop. I think the clerk must have been very bored. At any rate, she was very accommodating, and educated me on the particulars of saris vs. lehengas, and how Rajasthani women wear their saris, and what Rajasthani jewelry looks like, and then asked me my name (in Hindi!) and I answered her (in Hindi!) and I felt at once very silly and very smart. And then, to make up for my giddy embarassment, we went next door to the video store and I bought four Bollywood films. And then we went to another sari shop, and I ended up buying a lehenga covered in little mirrors, the largest pair of earrings I’ve ever owned (they were the smallest of the ones I tried on, though), some jingly anklets, and a mess of too-small bangles, which I later gifted to Baobh.
The husband chose a very snazzy suit. I made him put it on when we got home, so I could stare at him. He looks nice in Indian clothes. I look like a white person playing dress-up.
And then we went out and finished off the evening with thalis at Bojhanic, and ate too much, and then went home and went to bed.
I recounted this all to Baobh and husband last night when they arrived, and they seemed overwhelmed.
I also let them know that the Hindi word for snow transliterates to “barf,” which we all found very amusing in a sort of twelve-year-old way.