Salt and corrosion

It's been all go this week, f-list. The garbage collectors ran over our recycling bin on Tuesday night, and we got a replacement one delivered on Thursday. How's that for excitement?

The supermarkets have pretty much abandoned their special times for the oldies, but my mother has decided she likes doing the grocery shop at seven in the morning. Straight in, straight out, no waiting. And because it's before work, I can go with her, making it even faster. The Coles we go to is in a shopping plaza, and most of the little shops there aren't open at that time. Strange, strange: dark, shuttered shops, "Nothing Compares 2 U" echoing down the empty passage, the smell of the heating pastries as Muffin Break readies for the new day.

My mother frets about not having enough supermarket bags. (We have enough supermarket bags.) I spread the groceries evenly among the bags as I pack them. My mother asks if we need more, do we need more, there's more at the end of the checkout if we have to buy another. I say we have plenty. The young woman on the checkout says, "Besides, you have that folding bag with polka dots in your handbag." I gather she has met my mother before.

I finished reading a 1929 mystery novel, which used the word "groovy" to mean "stuck in a rut". As in "criminals who always use the same modus operandi are very groovy". So that's a word that has changed meaning.

Mail on Friday: A jury eligibility survey, for possible summons between August and November. So that's something to look forward to.

Email on Friday: A contract extending my job until March next year. That was nice. Also unexpected, as my bosses have not discussed this with me. They have made (extremely subtle) hints about it, but nothing direct. So I haven't signed yet, as I want to make sure it's actually real and not some weird glitch from HR.

Today being Australia Day, the ABC has an Australian slang quiz. I scored nine out of ten (I missed the first one). I must say, though, I have never actually said any of those things, nor would I expect to hear most of them from anyone else.

What else? Did you know that you can buy a Barbie electronic typewriter? And it comes with four pre-loaded ciphers to code and decode secret messages, but Mattel chose not to advertise that because they thought little girls wouldn't be interested in codes. I wonder if Mattel has ever actually met any little girls, because I'd have loved that back when I was one. Now I really like the idea of ASIO (or whatever your local secret service is called) buying these in bulk and using them as a very lo-fi Enigma machine. That'd confuse the Russians.

Australia's word of the year has been announced. It's actually two words: democracy sausage. It's a sausage that you eat when you go to vote. We're not a sophisticated people. Every news item mentioning this has illustrated it with footage from this year's federal election, in which the Opposition Leader bites a sausage in the middle instead of starting at the end like a normal person. And that's why he lost the election. (Although it's not as weird as our former Prime Minister eating a raw onion like an apple.)

A few months ago I was in Spotlight (a craft chain store), and on the way to the checkouts I had to pass the sale shelves. One shelf had a white ceramic trinket dish with an owl on it. I had no need for a white ceramic owl trinket dish, but it was the only one, and it was so dusty and unloved looking I bought it.

( Owl )

Today I was in the supermarket and I went down the seasonal promotion aisle, which is all Christmas stuff right now. Amidst all the baubles and whatnot there was a mug. Just one mug. A sort of bear with a scarf, twice as big as a normal mug. It had such a hopeful expression on its little face. But I have no need of giant bear mugs, so I passed it by.

A few aisle later I realised I'd forgotten something, so I had to go back down that aisle. This time I noticed that the giant bear mug with the hopeful face really was the only mug there. It didn't even have a price label on the shelf like all the other things. But I have no need of giant bear mugs, so I passed it by.

Then I spent the rest of my shopping trip brooding over that mug, hoping some other person would appreciate its hopeful little face. But who would that be? Who else would anthropomorphise a mug as much as me?

So I bought it. Look at its hopeful little face!

( Mug )

Apparently I am a sucker for lonely ceramics.

March books read

* The Horologicon - Mark Forsyth (2012)
( Read more... )

* Malice - Keigo Higashino (1996) (Trans. Alexander O. Smith, 2014)
( Read more... )

* KNITSONIK: Stranded Colourwork Sourcebook - Felicity Ford (2014)
( Read more... )

* 1974: Le livre illustré de ceux qui sont nés cette année-là! - Adrien Servent (2015)
( Read more... )

I also started a new Cartland during the month and didn't get back to it. I know you'll find this hard to believe, f-list, but it was boring. I mean, the hero was called John. John. Remember that time there was a hero called Norvin? Those were the days. John was described as looking like a leopard, which would make him... spotty? That can't be what she meant.



( Answers to 1974 quiz )

According to today's World Wide Words, a slangwhanger is an old (c. 1800s) word for a newspaper columnist who is free to espouse opinions and make use of political cant. That is a term that needs to come back. There are slangwhangers everywhere in the modern media.

This time of year, my eyes get so dry and itchy. It's the heating, but I've never been able to find a humidifier to fix it. Last week my eyes were so bad I was ready to claw them out, so imagine my excitement when I opened the newspaper to see a catalogue from Harvey Norman (a chain of furniture/electronics/appliance stores) featuring a humidifier. So yesterday I went out to my local Harvey Norman. The man said, 'No, no, we've never stocked them.' 'But they're in your catalogue,' I said. 'Never had them,' said the man, 'but I could install a heater with one attached to it.'

I went home and looked up the Harvey Norman website. There it was, a sleek silver humidifier. I clicked the 'Find it in store' button and entered the City by the Sea's postcode. Out of stock, it said. We’ll be getting more stock really soon and you can still buy on back-order. No, thanks. He could have offered that at the time.

But I'd had my heart set on not having sore eyes any more, and I wasn't going to rest after my hopes had been so cruelly dashed. So I rang another store, an independent one this time. The lady said, 'No, sorry, love, we've only got dehumidifiers, that's the opposite to what you want.' Well, yes. 'We looked into stocking them once,' she said, 'but we couldn't find a reliable supplier.' Oh, well, thank you for your time, independent store lady.

My mother had come round for lunch by then. 'Pharmacies have them,' she said. 'For little ones who get croup, like you.' (I haven't had croup for at least thirty years.) So I went to a pharmacy and looked, and, sure enough, they had a whole aisle of them. I am now the proud owner of a large white blob with a cartoon hippo on it. Classy decor. No, it isn't, it looks ridiculous. But I haven't had to put in eye drops in the thirty-six hours since I bought it, so I'm calling that a win.

I think the rubber bands on my rubber band ball are perishing. They're so pretty, but perishing. So sad.

This week's random word is:

4. Fadge
This week I asked the random word generator for an uncommon verb and it obliged by giving me: to fadge. All righty then.

I have never knowingly fadged in my life. It's not a word I've ever said, or even suspected existed. It sounds slightly rude. But it isn't. According to the internet, which is never wrong, fadge is a little word that we make do quite a lot of work in the event that we use it at all. To fadge is an obsolete word meaning to be suitable, to succeed, to agree, to get along, to cope or to thrive. It is also a dialect word in different parts of the UK, meaning to eat together or for a horse to move with a gait between a jog and a trot. So you could put all those meanings together and say: Let's stop and fadge, because I just can't fadge when my horse fadges. I'm just not fadged with horse-riding.

But wait! It's not only a verb. Fadge also has a variety of uses as a noun as well. Around the world, it can mean the gait of horses between a job and a trot; an irregularly sized bale of wool; a bundle of leather, sticks or wool; a thing made of jute to pack wool in; a small bun made with dough left over from making a loaf of bread; and as alternative word for potato farls. So you can put them all with the verbs we just learnt and say: Let's stop here and fadge the fadge and the fadge that I brought with me. I just can't fadge when my horse fadges. I'm just not fadged with horse-riding. I think I need to put a fadge under the saddle.'

I planned to make some potato fadge last night and post a photo of it to bring this entry to a triumphant finish, but, sadly, I didn't have any potatoes. So, I think you will fadge, I have definitely not fadged today.

Next week: Oops

Imagine you are sitting at a desk in front of a computer. You are given a sheet of paper. One side of it has some numbers in a table, and the other says Open the test.xls file on the computer desktop and, using the information overleaf, enter the relevant data in the spreadsheet. Do you understand this?

I ask because one of my colleagues (who shall remain nameless but you could probably guess) claimed she'd never heard the word 'overleaf' before. She didn't understand it, couldn't work out what it meant in context and claimed it was local slang impenetrable to a non-Victorian such as her. But it isn't, is it?

Sometimes you just have to phone it in with a meme, stolen from quite a few people.

What is it called when you throw toilet paper on a house?
Stupidity? That's not really a thing here. Once a year on muck-up day (that's the last day of school, ever, for Year 12 students), there might be a couple of kids who decorate the fence or garden of their school with toilet paper, and that's called being an idiot.

( And there's more )

I saw Jupiter last night. Well, it was hard to miss. I got out my telescope for the first time in ages and I actually found what I was looking for. This is a development. Until now the only things I have been able to find have been the moon (also hard to miss) and random patches of sky. So that was all very exciting.
 
By popular request (one), here is a photo of the ( archery target cake )
 
Today at work we were looking for the remote control for the TV and found we all had a different name for it: remote, zapper (that was me), thing and doober-dabber. What about you?

Every year, my boss and one of my colleagues do the rounds of the medical careers expos, spruiking* the virtues of general practice (and in particular, general practice in our region). A few years ago, our marketing guru came up with a sun and surf theme (as in, 'be a doctor here and you can go to the beach every day!'). I don't know how successful that was. Anyway, to fit in with the theme, my boss decided to buy (or, possibly, steal from his children) a toy pirate's chest and fill it with chocolates. This is the [COMPANY NAME] Treasure Chest, and we are, apparently, famous for it. Well, famous within the circles of people who set up stands at medical careers expos.

Anyway, when it's not starring at medical careers expos, the treasure chest lives on a coffee table in the reception area, where it is constantly stocked with mini chocolate bars for the enjoyment of all comers. It's interesting to see what's popular and what's not. The Cherry Ripes** are always the first to go; the Crunchies*** are the last, with the Time Outs and the Boosts somewhere in the middle. That sounds about right to me.

I said I had to pick up some stuff at the supermarket yesterday lunch time, so Leeanne gave me some money from the petty cash tin and entrusted to me the duty of buying some chocolates to top up the treasure chest. Such responsibility! I decided on a bag of Fantails (toffees covered in chocolate with trivia about movies on the wrappers). Putting them in the chest, I felt briefly sorry for the last, sad Crunchie and ate it and I swear I could feel my teeth fizzing the way the Crunchie does when you bite it.



* spruik (-oo-) v.i. & t. (Aust. sl.) speak in public, used esp. of showman; advertise, sell; ~'er n. speaker, salesman, showman. [orig. unkn.] (I saw from the spell check's hissy-fit that I had used an unfamiliar Australian term.)

** Check out the chocolate people on the Cadbury home page. At one point in the ad, the chocolate son takes a bite out of a chocolate dog that's barking at him. That's just wrong. It's also interesting that the people are chocolate and yet they are apparently meant to be white, with blond hair and blue eyes. I'm not sure what to make of that.

*** That wikipedia page claims that the Violet Crumble is similar to the Crunchie, which is in no way true. Well... it is a bit true, but Violet Crumbles are much nicer.