Most Thursdays like today, I head over to Vancouver's famous Granville Island to get farmer's market supplies. Thursday is the best day because most of the produce has arrived but not the swarms of tourists the weekend sees.
I usually just take the ferry across but I today with the sun out and all that lovely snow on the mountain tops I got to yodeling and thought it would be fun to get a Porche and a German chauffeur because the drive across the bridge would be fun.
Last month MrD invited our neighbours, a young straight German couple with a charming daughter, over for dinner. MrD always enjoys the company of anyone who speaks more than just English because the great MrD speaks around 30 languages. (Can't say no in any of them. Doesn't do well listening in any of them either. Meow. Meow Meow.)
It turns out Daddy German is the cook in the family. Mama German is the baker and Daughter German is the princess who will only eat macaroni and cheese.
(I made her a separate meal with mac and cheese three ways because I like to entertain divas.)
Since then I have often met with PG (Papa German)to give him cooking instructions. We head out in his grey Carrera 4 to the local farmer's market on Granville and shop for whatever he is cooking for his family that night. I get what I need. Plus a free ride to the market in a sports cars with a hot German driver. How much is this service? Papa German pays MrD and me 125 bucks a month to park his Porche in our parking spot.
So much better than having to buy one I thought.
Now I have to run. I have to plan the outfit for that creamy brown leather interior. Papa German will be ready on time. It is one of the things we all love about the Germans. Even one minute late causes him inner turmoil and he has to relieve his frustration by squealing his tires in those tight dark turns in the garage.
Auf wiedersehen.
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