Fat, fit and happy

Today we were up with the lark to get into town for 8am, which we almost managed.  We had a couple of errands to make before baby swimming, so had to make sure everything was done before the allotted time in the pool.  

After swimming, we had some food shopping to do. I'm still getting my head around what you can and cannot get here - I don't yet venture much further than one particular shopping 'centre', so it may be that you can get more things, but I just haven't found them - however, given it's the 'smarter' of the shopping areas, I don't think I'm in for many added extra's.  The shops are quite basic and certainly no Waitrose when it comes to the weird and wonderful.  I was pretty excited to find Paprika the other day, however, the sour cream that I wanted for my chile-con-carne sadly cannot be found.  Yoghurt will do instead. As they say here, we'll make a plan.   

Today's trip was a little disturbing as a shop assistant insisted on pushing my shopping trolly around after me as I was handling (rather well, I thought) a push chair and a shopping trolly.  Apparently I can't have been coping as well as I thought.  My British reserve didn't appreciate the gesture quite as much as I could have, and in fact, it's rather annoying when you're learning the layout of a shop to have to keep explaining to someone who knows the shop intricately that we're going back to a different isle, again.  The assistant wasn't particularly interested in helping me find where anything was, but did enjoy the odd chat with her fellow colleagues, which made the Brit in me find it even harder to tear her away back to where we had just been.  So, in true form, I lied, said I'd finished and went to the other, rather smarter food store, which I knew needed a visit anyway (dark chocolate and cocoa powder are only stocked in the smarter shop). 

Walking in, a lady was arranging the satsuma's to ensure they were in neat rows, just like the countless variety of apples, pears, peaches etc... Cunningly, I took a basket and coped with the weight than risk another difficult shop.  I'm learning. 

Given our long morning, the boy needed food before heading home.  We have a great little cafe who are very welcome indeed - it's on a street filled with Jacaranda trees which are all in bloom at the moment looking so very beautiful.  The owner, who doesn't mind a little baby being fed and thus having a child smeared with all kinds of slightly grim looking pureed food in his cafe, is more than a little bit large.  Whilst I was feeding the boy, the owner took a call and in response to what was clearly 'how are  you, he replied 'fat, fit and happy', for some reason, this response endeared me, it's far jollier than 'I'm fine' which we all unimaginatively troll out each time.