Coming To Terms

Whilst living in Bucharest for two years (2000-2002) I learned how to weave traditional fruit bowls out of bulgar wheat grass, while singing old nursery rhymes to keep the rhythm of the actual weaving movements. After three cadences of "Mary Had A Little Lamb", I would be surprised to look down at my progress and see a nearly completed basket frame.

Of course, I'm completely lying. I've yet to travel to Bucharest (though it is on my "to-do" list). I don't know how to weave baskets, nor do I know if there is such a thing as bulgar wheat grass or if it's one of Bucharest's crops. Do they even have crops? I'm not even completely sure I used "cadences" in the correct form.

But this lends to an interesting topic: at dinner parties, who can you trust? More importantly, how many people could I fool with this story? Because that would definitely entertain me more than hearing about the latest Dan Brown novel everyone tells me I have to read.