We started the day with a pick up sort of breakfast and then headed out to the Old Market. I introduced Sandy and Mark to my friends at the stalls - the sock lady and the suspender man. My other lady was not there today but will be back tomorrow. After we looked at all the stalls and visited all the vegetables stands and bought some veggies and fruit, we went into the meat market to buy some bacon from my bacon man. When he saw me he called out "sese, ne baconas." "Six, no bacon". He calls me sese because I often order 6 slices of bacon. He also said that the souse was not very good that day. So, since he let us down, we bought stranger bacon, and will try it tomorrow for blts. We also bought some saugages and turned down the opportunity to eat raw bacon. A nice man helped us figure out what sausages to buy.
Mark took the groceries back to the flat and Sandy and I set off to do girl stuff - shopping. She ended up with Christmas gifts for most of the females in her family and a couple of things for herself. What fun.
We went back to the flat to find that Del had come up empty on getting the tickets to the Gypy performance tonight. He had gone to two different box offices in different parts of town. It should perhaps had been an omen, but none of us was clever enough to see it.
We went to a restaurant that we had never been to before for lunch. It turned out to be a Swiss style restaurant run by a very talkative, or perhaps very lonely Swiss gentleman. I was a little worried at first because the translations of the menu items did not make things seem all that appealing, but we had a nice meal. I think I should hire myself out to taste dishes and describe them on menus for the English speakers among us. And it would require that I taste each dish since I cannot rely on the Lithuanian description to guide me. Certainly I couled do better than pig paw or mold cheese. I had chicken and mushrooms with a quart of mash potatoes. Del had pork and mushrooms and what looked to be hashbrowns. Mark had a pasta, potato and cheese dish, and Sandy had chicken with apples and rice. I don't think I ever saw potatoes cooked with pasta, although I once worked in a school in Industry, Illinois, emphasis on dus, where every Wednesday they served creamed chicken with noodles on a pile of mash potatoes with green peas and a homemade roll the size of a bed pillow just dripping with butter. It was amazing, but the whole school population went around all afternoon looking as though it might slip into a carb induced coma at any moment.
We got home in time to rest our bones and set out to the Fisherman's theater to see if we could get tickets. We weren't hungry, so we decided to worry about dinner later. We could get tickets, and got seated to enjoy the show. The group of 3 musicians and two singer/ dancers had just begun their first number when the lights went out. They kept singing until the end of the number and then just sort of stood there a minute. Soon, a person with a flashlight came out and stood where he/she could iluminate the stage enough for the performers to get off stage without breaking themselves. I had sort of hoped they would continue the show by flashlight, but no such luck. It would have been like one of those old movies when Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland put on shows in the barn with the lights from their roadsters. At least I think they were the ones, but maybe I made that up. Anyhow, someone came out and made an announcement, but the only thing we understood was "electrics". Since only a small number of people left the theater, we felt pretty sure she had not said the word fire and that most people expected the show to go on at some point. After a while, Sandy and I went out to the lobby and she asked someone if they spoke English. The young woman called her friend who was standing in line to buy drinks because he spoke better English. He came over and explained that the lights were out in that section of the city and they expected them back on in 35-40 minutes. Sure enough, they eventually came back on, as, unfortunately, did the sound system. Now I know I'm old, but it was so loud I thought my ears would bleed. The hearing aid wearer among us took them out, Sandy covered her ears and I both stuffed mine with tissue and covered them to no avail. The singer kept motioning to the sound guy to up the volume. She also had a bit of a snit with a group of tweeners who were sitting on the corner stairs to the stage with their phones and cameras taking pictures. I was surprised that no one came up and made the girls go back to their seats. I was also surprised that the girls seemed completely indifferent to her finger shaking scolding.
I think we might have enjoyed the event if it had not involved so much pain, and we did get a kick out of it, but when the interact, as it is called, came, we got out of there. I generally stick it out to the end , no matter how bitter, out of courtesy to the performers, but my ears just wouldn't let me this time. They were still ringing when we got off the bus. I'm assuming no permanent damage was done. I do not want deafened by a band of Gyspies on my audiological report. We came home and had "snupper". That's Sandy's creative name for the combination snack and supper that we had.
Not being a Monty Python fan, I did not know why Mark was having such a good time with the names of the cheese I had bought, so they u tubed the cheese skit and we watched it while eating cheese, crackers, apples and egg salad. They told us that the men folks in their family can recite the skit word for word.
And now, off to bed. One more day with our friends. It will be hard to let them go.
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