If the mountain won't come to Muhammad...
(In this instance, I am the mountain. In all other instances, I am always the prophet. Just for future reference.)
It doesn't look like I'm going to travel home this year. This is the first year since I've lived here that I can't make the trip for one reason or another, and in realising this I have become a tad homesick for my people. Well, my people have delivered.
First, I received the world's best cookies in the post.
Then, while wandering around Dun Laoghaire on a Sunday afternoon after brunch, I found the Sweet Moments sweet shop and it looked like this:
Twinkies? Butterfingers? 20 extra pounds? Sounds like Murca.
And, look who I found wandering around the airport this morning. I was so excited, I brought her home.
Now if someone would just build a Target down the street I'd be golden.