What not to buy

in a supermarket.

This from the perch:

Rules to live by.
This might be a new feature of this blog.
It's started to look like we're grasping at straws lately
So an OCD person like me can logically present a list of
Things that should come directly from the source
And which I cannot bring myself to buy here in the big, bad city.
In no particular order:

1. lemons (and oranges and clemmies in season)
2. table wine
3. olive oil (actually that should have been first)

All of these things were carried back to the city tonight by me and K at the risk of a major hernia and anything else bad that can happen to you when your suitcase weighs 100 kilos/220 pounds/a tenth of a metric ton/you get the idea.

PS Weather on the perch was brilliant.

edited to add

All the way from the rat's nest:

Ok gotta add Mom's favorite,
which I forgot but here is the last of
the fart-related 'I am rubber"-type
comebacks:

The fox is the finder
The stink lies behind 'er

PS
Hey, George,
Do you remember that the building next to the Fart Factory
had these two guys in the lobby who were always shaking hands
no matter what time you drove by? It was a big glass lobby.
They were mannequins but it was a side-splitting joke to say,
"Hey look, those two guys are still shaking hands!"

Remember the Fart Factory

The rat's nest reports:
On our way to little ethnic kid school M-W-F we used to pass the sewage treatment plant on McCormick and that place smelled, man. So what could be a more hilarious nickname than "The Fart Factory?" Also guaranteed to crack you up for the gazillionth time: Asking, "who farted?" when passing the said factory.

All this has a point.

And not to dwell, but how weird was it when I remembered the following comeback the other morning while waiting for the elevator, after more than twenty years:

He who smelt it, dealt it.
He who knew it, blew it.
He who thunk it, dunk it.

Then you wonder why I can't remember other things. Obviously my brain is full of other really important (albeit temporarily repressed) things that take up all the space.

So what's the point? Dude, I knew I knew what I was talking about when I started calling this place the rat's nest. Now there's this giant hole they dug and left on the ground floor. The nastiest ever sewer smell as well as a million billion of those little bugs that turn into black dust when you smash them are continually being emitted from that hole. You cannot believe the stench. At the meeting Sunday they said they have to collect money so they can start fixing it, but they haven't even started collecting the money yet, so I have no idea when it'll get fixed. Possible cost to dig up the pipe and replace it and the damaged electrical cables: ten large.

So that's where the Fart Factory comes in. I guess you could say I've come full circle in my life. Feels damn good.

New Year's Resolvations

all the way from the rat's nest...
Good and I mean good riddance to 2008. The best thing that I can say about it is that it's over.
2nd worst year in 35 long ones.

Olympie said that there's some astrological thing related to Capricorns or the star of Capricorn or the Tropic of Capricorn... Anyway, the next few decades are going to be much better. Apparently the stars say that it's going to be 'back to basics' for the whole planet. That is music to my ears. I'd like to believe it.

So anyway, not to dwell on the negative side of this coin, with the end of 2008 come the following, in no particular order:

No more cancer.
No more unprofitable business which sucks out my very soul for less moolah than I'd be making on the dole.
No more toxic people playing a role of any importance in my life.
Hair, albeit weird and helmet-shaped or Nero-styled.

I sound negative in my positivity, don't I?

Anyhoo, it's my thirty-fifth today, so a good time to make some statements about the coming time (not only year, but more). I've spent the last fourteen months or so taking stock, didn't wait for today, but it's time to solve some of the stuff that's been hanging around for a long time, now that I have all this insight from being sick and then being well.

Hence the resolvations.

So:

Be well. This means listen to my body and inner voice about all kinds of things.
(This also means not being a chicken shit.)
Listen to live music.
Get my half-moons to the gym.
See my friends often.
Take walks by myself.
Be nice to everybody but extra nice to some people.
Be MYself. Keep working on figuring out who that is (am).
Buy and cook as many natural foods as I can afford.
Cultivate plants on the balcony.
GET A DOG.
NAME MY DOG ARFUR.

more as they occur to me

Crazy about Wildflowers

This from the perch and perix.
Zillions of poppies and other wildflowers everywhere! I guess the fires did somehow fertilize the ground because I don't remember such an abundance other years. There are mostly red poppies but also about four pink ones, lots of purples and different kinds of yellows. When you're on the perch, it's easy to hop down and take a nice brisk walk. I should have snapped a pic of a perfect Arfur-in-five-years-if-he-ever-materializes dog that I met on my way up the mountain.

Either late tonight or early tomorrow we must return to the big, bad city. All kinds of unsavoury (for certain words, isn't the British spelling just right?) appointments await. Let's not dwell.

Anyway, things on the perch are heating up. Crazy about wildflowers we may be, but also crazy generally, as falling off the balcony has become the norm for some members of this household.

Also: Jimmy makes a strange bedfellow.

Yesterday I visited the katastime and made out good, baby! Tons of little cologne vials (Miss Sixty. Decent smelling for summer, actually), two bags, the requisite mags, make-up, some sweet Faber Castell (sp?) pens, and more! Gotta love the katastime for shopping therapy on a budget.

Did I mention, Jimmy makes a strange bedfellow.

So it's back to the rat's nest for 20 days. Hasta lu.

Gripey Groucherson

The dark cloud hanging over the rat's nest threatens the tranquility of the perch as we know it: No sea, no sun for the whole summer! The sentence was handed down yesterday by a jovial doctor who is alarmingly reminiscent of Father Jake aka Father Jack. Remember, it is not so easy to live where I live and do what I do and not spend the summer maxing on the beach...

So I guess it'll be me and Precious (hopefully no precious offspring), looking for full shade and gazing long(distance)ingly at the water. The Dapster suggests picking up a new skill while I'm sitting there crying my fate...Any suggestions?

One of these days I am going to publish a pamphlet of manners for people who take P.T.

Next time when I'm not so tired, maybe I'll write about something really sad I saw on the train today. A young woman ranting about how her parents are trying to marry her off. I just wrote that to remind me which sad train scene I'm thinking of. There's more to it than that. Or the stacks of Bartleby-type ledgers at the tax office today. Should've had my cam.

Dormez bien.

Transforming cold and miserable

This from the rat's nest...
Tragic cold fronts sweeping in. Tragic cold caught by me and tragic amounts of kleenex being consumed. Already 1pm and too lazy to make breakfast, much less lunch. Tragic gollum-like reflection in the mirror.

Must put the power of the human brainium to work. (I was going to say cranium because it's cooler but I think that only refers to one part of the brain or maybe actually only the brain bone(s), aka skull.) Yesterday in a depressing place I was on the verge of tears for no logical reason and I forced myself to pretend to be cheerful and it kind of worked, I lifted my spirits.

So I could be positive about being stuck at home (already cancelled my plans for the day) with a nasty cold MUST BE CURED BY TUESDAY OR ELSE and nothing to do but knit the Dashwood hat. Which, of course, could turn out huge b/c I hate gauge. I can clean the rat's nest or watch old American shows on StarTsannel. I can call a couple of people I've been blowing off big-time.
I really should go out and buy straight pins so I can block the shawl I just finished but guess what? I'm too lazy.

Enough of that.

UPDATES
Amazingly enough, Vromyar's place is being transformed into a CLEAN, TIDY abode by a middle-aged lady with a kind expression. No cucas in sight. The era of Vromyar is ended.

The view from the perch does not look good. There are complaints of insufficient heating and worst of all the threat of usurpation (is that really the word?!?! spellcheck didn't react!) by a big fuzzy thing en onomati Arfur.

ARFUR ARFUR ARFUR