BioMom and I grabbed our coffee cups and went for a long walk. This type of activity is exciting to me because not all of my friends (yes, I’m referring to you, That’s Not Chinese), enjoy walking long distances, even if they are in a walking gang. WCG (Walking City Girls) should not be in da house, they should be out on da streets – which is exactly where BioMom and I went.
As we walked through the city, I introduced BioMom to one of the hidden and completely bizarre treasures – the sculpture gardens. Growing up, it wasn’t a public garden, rather, it was someone’s private backyard. My friends and I would regularly sneak in at night and scare each other (which didn’t require much effort). “Why is there a man’s head, an oversized grasshopper and a watering can at the base of that rock with the scripture engraved on it?” she asked me. There is no ‘Why?’ at this garden. Well, there are a lot of whys, but there aren’t a lot of answers as to why and, luckily, there are no longer any trespassing violations when visiting.
We continued on our walk and made it to our planned destination, the pub. The sky had been overcast all morning and, while sitting on the outdoor patio, the clouds started to take the look of the garden – eery and odd. I stepped inside to inspect the loo and returned to find BioMom and our server carrying our iced tea and sidecars into the restaurant. “We got a bit of a wet treat,” BioMom advised gesturing to the buckets of rain and our slightly watered down drinks. Fortunately, like the sculptures at the garden, the iced tea and sidecars were plentiful. Not only were we able to wet our pallets with sweet spirits, we were also able to wet our tops with ran and our minds, well, after the treat that BioMom saw at the sculpture gardens, our minds will never be the same.