Never Underestimate the Power of Pie

Saturday in Salisbury I thought my find it gene had perhaps gone on holiday. The phone I had bought, just two days before I left for France, had gone missing. Now before you go, “Oh, No!”, I’ll tell you that there is a happy and very pie like ending to my story so I hope you’ll follow along.

Kate and I spent the afternoon walking around the town of Salisbury on Friday after a lovely visit to Stonehenge. The old town, with it’s Gothic cathedral, is a maze of narrow streets, little shops, pubs, tea rooms and bakeries.  On Friday night, locals were bustling around. We joined, too, poking our heads into kitchen stores, shoe stores, grocery store and whatever else struck our fancy.

Families, couples and men and women of all ages were already on the street, the next morning, moving towards the already crowded outdoor market as if pulled by a magnet; the regulars carrying their favorite market bags and baskets, so much like my Saturday markets in Seattle and Santa Barbara.

A lovely little pie!

We stopped at a few stalls to look over clothes, candles, produce and baked goods. As we walked to one of the far corners of the market I spied Bridgeport Gourmet Pies with little pies looking so perky and inviting that we promptly bought two; one pork and the other a pheasant, walnut & port.

I put my hand in my purse to take a photo and realized that my phone was not there.

Oh no! My new 4gs…a really big splurge for this little pie-maker…missing.

Kate and I retraced our steps through the market…nothing…
back to our room…nothing…
to the car where we went through every bag and piece of luggage…twice
and still nothing. Oh dear. I was really sinking at this point but determined to keep a stiff upper lip.

Kate, ever to the rescue, suggested that a proper English breakfast was in order to cheer me up and bolster my moral and guided me into the closest spot. Forty five minutes later, fortified with baked beans, sausage, eggs, potatoes, tomatoes and toast, I was feeling much better.

So we retraced our steps again, searching bags, the market and visiting the pie-man again. And one last visit to our lodging. This time we were more thorough. Garbage cans, closet floors, under the beds and in all the covers. I even looked on-line to see if someone had found it but still no luck.

At this point I gave a deep sigh and tried to accept that my two week old phone was more than in a clever place but seriously missing.

I put a smile on my face and commented about our wonderful visit to Stonehenge the day before. I said how the site is “round…like a pie” and at the same time picked up the one thing left untouched in the search—a bath towel—folded and draped over the foot-board at the end of the bed.  And can you guess what was underneath?

My phone! I had put it down on the bed the night before and it had slipped down between the board and the mattress.We both looked at each other with big grins, laughing and clapping hands like little children on Christmas morning and walked out the door on to our next adventure.

My Lesson: Never Give Up and Never Underestimate the Power of Pie!

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