todayiamadaisy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
todayiamadaisy) wrote2013-03-02 07:22 pm
todayiamadaisy) wrote2013-03-02 07:22 pm
Entry tags:
The Wild, Unwilling Wife
I saw an ad last night for a vacuum cleaner. Some sort of super vacuum cleaner that gives no loss of suction power. What's more, it comes with its own generator, so you, and I swear, this is what the voiceover said, 'get portable no loss of suction power'. So that's handy. And awkwardly expressed.
Today the mobile Detox Your Home service visited the City by the Sea. It comes once a year, just like Santa! Other years, you could just rock up to the livestock sale yards any old time on the appointed day, and the Detox people would take your chemicals and paint tins and whatnot. Not this year. No. I had to register online to get a number; once I had that, I could choose a window of time. The morning was all booked up, so I got a window between twelve and one this afternoon. I had to go between those times, or I would be turned away. I had to take my number with me, or I would be turned away. How organised is this?, I thought. It's going to be like a military operation. Anyway, so I went today, and mine was the only car there. So that was an anti-climax.
I had a nearly empty tin of paint and an old bucket filled with assorted batteries, light globes and spray cans. The bucket has a huge crack in it, rendering it useless for liquid-carrying, so I said to the Detox man, 'You can have that, too,' and he said, 'Nah, sorry love, we can't take rubbish.' So I've still got the bucket. (I notice on their website that they have a list of things they won't take: motor oil, industrial/farm chemicals, asbestos and ammunition. And buckets, apparently, although they don't mention that.)
After that, my mother rang to say that she and her neighbour, Jan, were going to the local embroidery guild's annual show, and would I like to come? So we did that, which was nice, and then Jan had to go to the ATM, so my mother and I loitered discreetly while she did her banking. 'It's no good,' she said, coming back to us. 'It won't work.' The man who had been queuing behind her finished his transaction and walked off with his money. 'It worked for him, though,' she said. 'Come on, you two try.' So we went over to the ATM and Jan stuck her card in. A picture of a numerical keypad appeared on the screen, with instructions to enter the PIN and press ENTER. Jan started poking the numbers on the keypad. 'No, no,' I said. 'That's just a picture. Try the keypad at the side,' and I pointed to the physical keypad at the side of the machine. That worked. Hooray!
On the strength of that, my mother said, we all deserved a hot drink and a cakey thing. I had a hot chocolate and a macaron. Where available, I will always go for a citrus-flavoured macaron, but there wasn't any obviously citrus-coloured ones there, so I ordered one that was a lovely dark yellow with a brown filling. When the waiter brought it over, he said apologetically, 'Do you know what flavour this is?' I told him I thought it was caramel. He shook his head. 'Vegemite.' Well... okay. 'You can swap it if you like.'
No, I said, I will give it a go. And you know what? It wasn't bad. The salt of the Vegemite offset the sweetness of the macaron, and if I hadn't been told what it was, I don't think I would have guessed. Now I'm home, the internet tells me that Vegemite macarons are a real thing, so you can make your own.
Today the mobile Detox Your Home service visited the City by the Sea. It comes once a year, just like Santa! Other years, you could just rock up to the livestock sale yards any old time on the appointed day, and the Detox people would take your chemicals and paint tins and whatnot. Not this year. No. I had to register online to get a number; once I had that, I could choose a window of time. The morning was all booked up, so I got a window between twelve and one this afternoon. I had to go between those times, or I would be turned away. I had to take my number with me, or I would be turned away. How organised is this?, I thought. It's going to be like a military operation. Anyway, so I went today, and mine was the only car there. So that was an anti-climax.
I had a nearly empty tin of paint and an old bucket filled with assorted batteries, light globes and spray cans. The bucket has a huge crack in it, rendering it useless for liquid-carrying, so I said to the Detox man, 'You can have that, too,' and he said, 'Nah, sorry love, we can't take rubbish.' So I've still got the bucket. (I notice on their website that they have a list of things they won't take: motor oil, industrial/farm chemicals, asbestos and ammunition. And buckets, apparently, although they don't mention that.)
After that, my mother rang to say that she and her neighbour, Jan, were going to the local embroidery guild's annual show, and would I like to come? So we did that, which was nice, and then Jan had to go to the ATM, so my mother and I loitered discreetly while she did her banking. 'It's no good,' she said, coming back to us. 'It won't work.' The man who had been queuing behind her finished his transaction and walked off with his money. 'It worked for him, though,' she said. 'Come on, you two try.' So we went over to the ATM and Jan stuck her card in. A picture of a numerical keypad appeared on the screen, with instructions to enter the PIN and press ENTER. Jan started poking the numbers on the keypad. 'No, no,' I said. 'That's just a picture. Try the keypad at the side,' and I pointed to the physical keypad at the side of the machine. That worked. Hooray!
On the strength of that, my mother said, we all deserved a hot drink and a cakey thing. I had a hot chocolate and a macaron. Where available, I will always go for a citrus-flavoured macaron, but there wasn't any obviously citrus-coloured ones there, so I ordered one that was a lovely dark yellow with a brown filling. When the waiter brought it over, he said apologetically, 'Do you know what flavour this is?' I told him I thought it was caramel. He shook his head. 'Vegemite.' Well... okay. 'You can swap it if you like.'
No, I said, I will give it a go. And you know what? It wasn't bad. The salt of the Vegemite offset the sweetness of the macaron, and if I hadn't been told what it was, I don't think I would have guessed. Now I'm home, the internet tells me that Vegemite macarons are a real thing, so you can make your own.