Hopscotch and Woolgathering

Adventures in Mother-Fetching

This is mostly a quick anecdote.

It’s been a while since I’ve written about my travels. That’s not to say that my travels haven’t happened–they most certainly have. However, they’ve mostly left me without much to write about. I went to Warwick the other day, and all I did was sneak into a tea room that I think I was meant to buy a ticket to get into (which were rather expensive, I might add!). And look to see how much it was to rent a GIANT swan boat, but there was a private party going on, so they wouldn’t let me in there, either!


Any way, as I write this, right now, I’m sitting at a Starbucks off the A5, or maybe it’s the motor way at this point, I’m not really sure. I usually pit-stop here though. That’s not uncommon. It’s in Denbighshire, anyway. I’m actually on my way to Manchester to retrieve my mother from the airport. Thankfully, her flight is late. I’ve found myself without my debit card. Thankfully, my very, very, kind and wonderful usual co-pilot volunteered to run it over to me. It’s just an hour drive away from him, no biggie ( (O.O) )

So in the meantime, I wanted to write in Starbucks. I mean, all things considered, it worked out rather well. While I was driving I was listening to writing podcasts and getting all amped up to write any way. I just planned on actually buying something, which I haven’t done. As a result, I scoured my car, which I stupidly cleaned yesterday for the arrival of my mother, and only yielded 79p. I had hoped to get just another 21p. so I could buy a coffee.

Then, then! I became that person examining all the crevasses of the parkinglot, looking for discarded pennies and five-pence pieces. To no luck.

It was no wonder the barista gave me a leery look as I walked through the doors and set my back-pack down. She probably thought I was some transient having hitch-hiked my way here (which would be fine, I suppose, as long as I wasn’t doing sketchy things). So I told her my predicament, told her I had money on the way, and would I be able to sit inside and take up space and mooch internet while I waited? There was this spread of relief across her face (my boldness perhaps created something relatable?) and she smiled, saying of course I could sit, that was no problem at all.

So here I sit, musing at the ridiculousness of my non-journey. I thought my travel blog would be the perfect place to vent and share it. I hope you enjoyed the many misadventures of this particular woolgatherer.

This entry was published on July 7, 2017 at 11:12 am and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

2 thoughts on “Adventures in Mother-Fetching

  1. Pingback: About Andrea’s Story | Scribing English All Over The Place

  2. Pingback: Llangollen (again) and the Great Orme | Hopscotch and Woolgathering

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