A decent pub. In California. Wow.
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So. Still no word on the stupid pregnancy tests. In worse pain, but ignoring it as best I can until Monday, when the Useful Doctor returns to urgent care.
In MUCH better news, we found a lovely little English pub here that sells bangers and mash with peas, and incredible batter-fried fish, and homemade pea soup that is to DIE for, and killer pie, and they even make a stickytoffeething that I am looking forward to trying as soon as I can make room in my stomach again, which after the meal I just ate, may take a few days. Talk about comfort food. Bangers - nifty british sausagethings - batter-dipped and deep-fried after being boiled for only the gods know how long, with mashed potatoes and peas, all of it swimming in rich brown gravy. Enough to feed two people. And Caleb got a meatpastie thing that is killer, AND we got fish bits, which are supposed to be an appetizer of batter-dipped and fried fish but which is enough for a meal for both of us in and of itself, AND we both had bowls of pea soup, and slices of rhubarb pie, and I even had a White Russian. VERY full tummy. VERY full fridge with all the leftovers. VERY happy and slightly but not really tipsy Jax. Whee! We are so going back there.
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