When I was in Spain with LaurieMar, at the Madrid airport on the way to Barcelona, they told me that I had a nailfile in my big carryon purse and I'd have to hand it over. I couldn't find one in there, so they let me go. The next time I passed through that same airport, they again told me I had a nailfile in my carryon purse. I still couldn't find it but they were quite insistent the second time and wouldn't let me go until I located it. I scrounged and scrounged through that bag. I found all kinds of things more deadly but no, there was nothing for it but that I fork over the offending nailfile.

I was most confused, but did finally manage to pull out my blunt-end ceramic nailfile, bought specifically because it was ceramic and wouldn't be confiscated. Well, of course, they took it, despite my protestations that they shouldn't need to take it. Oh well, let's get on with the trip, right? And so I did.

When I got back to my home in Canada and was unpacking and putting things away, I came across the true offender, tucked in a fold in a pocket. It was a indeed a metal nailfile, but just one of those little duffers about 2-3 inches long from handle end to metal tip. That nailfile had been to the Caribbean numerous times and probably even Southeast Asia, once or twice before it ever made it to Spain.

Sure would have come in handy a few times, had I ever realized that I'd had it with me.

A fish and a bird can fall in love, but where will they build their nest?