we’d returned to the east coast, realized it was already around 3 pm and we hadn’t eaten lunch. I craved a hamburger. Living as I do in a rural area, I very rarely eat takeaways. At meal times, if I don’t feel like cooking, it’s bad luck, too late to think about it now. I’m not about to drive 35 minutes to the nearest takeaways. I had fish and chips on New Years Day and, as far as I can recall, no other takeaways this year. So the little Cafe over the road from our motel in Pukenui seemed like a good idea.
Chris had wandered off in search of a postcard and I went in to look at the menu but was hardly through the door before I heard the cafe ladies discussing my scarf/shawl. Is it a scarf? No, it’s a shawl! Within minutes the younger of the ladies, the one in the purple t shirt, had it wrapped around her shoulders and was doing a twirl around the tables.
“Oh, I love purple. Look, it’s crocheted. Where did you get it?”
“About 10 years ago from one of those little craft shops in Russell.”
“I wonder if they have another one like it.”
“It was 10 years ago.”
“Oh, yeah. You’ll just have to leave it to me in your will. Tell them to address it to Cafe Lady, Pukenui. I’ll still be here.”
By the time Chris came in we were old friends.
And the hamburger? Never tasted one better.
