We spent the morning doing what needed to be done around here, and Del did some work on his lecture. Then about 12:30, Daiva called to say her meeting was over and she would meet us in10 minutes to head for Palanga. That's the place where we went to the Stinta festival this winter. We walked through the forest and tried to visit the amber museum, but it doesn't open until tomorrow. It is in a former palace and the grounds are huge and being prepared for spring planting. Just off the grounds, there is a reproduction of Lourdes. Paths wander through the woods and down to the sea. There was a sign that said that the intrnational scout jamboree was held in the park/forest in 1933. It still amazes me to be able to walk among thick trees and still hear the ocean.
After a nice long walk, we went to the main street to the sea. It had been closed for the festival, so we could walk down the street and look. We were able to see a felt making demonstration, some weaving, wood carving and a really old one man band. Both the man and the instruments. He was quite energetic playing his squeeze box, drums and cymbols. There was no harmonica, but perhaps he had only so much breath. Del was able to buy a kaliedascope (sp) of wood with amber inside. We talked with the wife of the man who made it, but he had stepped away for awhile.
One of the things they did was rent little metal big wheel looking things for little kids to ride. Those younguns could go to town on those things. We came across a boy of about 5 who was pedaling as fast as he could crying "Mama, Mama." We stopped and Daiva talked to him. She tried to persuade him to stop and wait until his parents found him, but he would have non of it. He hurried along, and we followed along for a while. In a little bit he stopped, closed his eyes, mumbled and crossed himself several times. Bless his little heart, he knew where to turn in times of trouble. Then he rode off again, still calling and crying. I was about to cry myself. We walked in the direction he had come from to see if we could find anyone looking upset, but we didn't. A little later we saw him riding along, holding tight to his mother's hand, or being held in a death grip by her, I'm not sure which. She was not smiling, I can tell you that. Dad came rushing up. and the boy jumped off the trike and threw his arms around him saying "sorry, sorry." and off they went. I'll bet that is the last time they rent one of those things.
Our next stop was at a nice little Ukranian resataurant for a late lunch of borscht and dumplings. The borscht was wonderful. It was a hot soup full of vegetables and meat, not the cold soup most places here only serve in summer. The trick to the Ukranian version is to make it with saurkraut instead of just cabbage. We each ordered a small bowl. Based on the size of that, the large bowl would have come in a wash tub. It was served with a cold soft white dinner roll looking bread that had been split and filled with lots of butter and the strongest chopped garlic I ever tasted. Maybe it was the size of the chunks, but it packed a whollop. The dumplings were small flour dumplings filled with meat. They were about the size of a tortolini, but round with a shallow indention and served in a bowl with sour cream and crackling - little bits of fried bacon. Each bowl had about 20 dumplings. I couldn't finish mine, but all those skinny people sitting around me in the restaurant were having no trouble. Daiva had potato dumplings with mushroom sauce. I thought they might taste like pirogi , but they didn't. I really liked the texture of these dumplings and the small size.
I just reread to check for typos and the soft white dinner roll reminded me of Heidi and the rolls she saved for Peter's grandmother. At least I think that was who it was.
After lunch, we headed for the bus station. Daiva assured us that she would wait with us until the bus left. I laughed and told her she was a good moma, but we had had lots of experience in riding buses now. She laughed and said that I should listen to mama. Fortunately, we were able to walk right onto the 5 o'clock bus. It was one of the private large van types, but it had good shocks. We got 2 of the last 4 seats, so we were lucky we didn't have to wait for the next one.
It was another good day. Tomorrow will be quiet. It is graduation day at LCC and a church service is part of that, so we won't have a service. I think there will be a couple more before the last group heads away for the summer. We will miss everyone.
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