Prunes and raisins were not created equal

So last night while chatting to Imelda on Skype, my doorbell rings at 11:30. I was not expecting anyone. ESC was not due home for another hour and I had just almost perfected my all natural moisturizing hair spray and I went to town. My hair was wrapped in a plastic bag covered with my silk scarf and I was parading in undergarments. I looked through the peephole. It was my dearly beloved husband!

Home early- a rare surprise. Slow day. Wanting to spend some QT with his wife. He went to the shower and Imelda and I chatted on. We haven't been having our regular conversations and were getting up to speed. GrannyPeg heard the news of Dubai's debt payment default and was worried about her granddaughter over here in foreign Arabia. The news had reached Jamaica.

The conversation ended prematurely- a regular thing with internet chats over my limited broadband speed. I took the cheapest package. Frugal is my middle name. It rhymes with Practical.

So ESC comes out of his shower, intending to fix his flat bicycle tyre and seduce his wife to an early sign off.

Then the prunes started talking.

I was not comfortable with the way my body was feeling and so I picked up a few prunes on my supermarket run last night. They were really tasty. I had them all. Eleven prunes. I dont eat prunes normally because I never really cared for them. But I wanted to feel like my old efficient self again and they really did taste good this time. Maybe its because they didn't have to travel so far and so long to get to me in the west.. they were much tastier here, having come from the region.

Then the prunes started to sing.

ESC fixed his bike, warmed up some oxtail, unpacked the groceries and waited for me to join him.

The prunes started to dance. One piece of drum knocking and chanting and carrying on.

There endeth the reading of this scripture. ESC was forced to go to bed without me while I was locked up in the bathroom reading "The Poisonwood Bible" as my body found renewed efficiency.