About Spit Cake and Other Things
After a couple of days temperatures rose again, the sun came out and the snow started to melt.
It was time for Pomi and me to go back to the Mediterranean.
” Tell me, my little crochet darling. What…?”
Pomi did not let me finish my sentence. “Why do you always have to refer to my height?”
” I didn’t! It is just something you say to someone you love, a term of endearment, ‘ my little… ‘. It has nothing to do with height. Almost nothing.”
” Hmm.” Pomi looked at me pensively.
” Let us talk about the past couple of days, Pomi. You saw many new things. What did you like best?”
And the food! So much candy!
Everything was so beautiful.
But you had to stuff me in your bag again, didn’t you?”
” I did it because it snowed.”
” It had been snowing almost all day.”
” You are right but suddenly it was snowing heavily and I saw your jacket and hat were getting rather wet and so I decided it was for the better if you were in the bag. Safely I might add.”
” I am sure I missed a lot.”
” Not really. Soon after I put you in the bag I went home because the snow froze on the ground and walking became rather dangerous.”
” Well I did not really mind being in the bag for once. I did enjoy the spit cake you had bought at one of the stalls.”
” You did not have to finish it all.”
” You could have bought a bit more.” Pomi smiled. “Now back to what I liked here. The snow of course , which you know already. Can you tell me why there were people walking around with sticks, their gaze fixed firmly ahead.”
” Those were Nordic Walkers. What they do is called Nordic Walking, it is a fitness technique. You walk with poles in order to build greater total body fitness with less stress.”
” I prefer walking without poles.”
” You could have fallen off the fence right into that pond.”
” Ok, I guess you have a point.”
” And the tree I climbed because I thought I would be able to see the sunset better.”
” And did you?”
” I don’t know.”
Pomi looked at me. ” Can’t we stay a little longer.”
” No, we cannot, my plane ticket is for tomorrow.”
” I do not have a ticket?”
” You do not need one.”
” Why is that?” Pomi looked at me squinting his eyes.
” You do not need a ticket because…” I could not finish the sentence.
” … because I am small. I demand more spit cake. You hurt my feelings. Again. I will forgive you though if you bake a spit cake when we get back. Although if it snowed really hard we would have to stay here because there would not be any outgoing flights, right?”
” There would be no flights at all. But it is not snowing and we will leave tomorrow.”
” I could make a phone call.”
” Who would you call and what about?”
” To wish for snow.”
” Well I am afraid that kind of wish you will not make come true by making a phone call.”
” I guess not.” Pomi looked at the telephone. I think he was sad.
” I shall call it a night,” my little crochet guy finally said, slipped under the covers and went to sleep.