I was going to write about job hunting, but after spending three hours this afternoon I'm done with thinking about job hunting tonight.
I was going to write about dinner, and how I cooked myself a steak for dinner and how I love to heap on the condiments - tomato sauce, Dijon mustard, butter and Worcestershire Sauce - yes, all three, just because. But that would be daft and make me out to be the bogan that I am. (I grew up having steak, with onions, with margarine and Worcestershire Sauce - and I still think it's the best. Joys of having a grandfather who was a butcher). Then there was the joy of washing out the new non-stick pan, how the scourer glided over the pan in the hot soapy water.
Then I could talk about how much I'm missing the cat. I took him home today - and the flat feels very empty without him.
Then there was the great feeling of walking to my coffee shop this afternoon, nodding at Raj and all he had to ask me was, 'Medium or large?'. He's got my name and my order down. I am now a local at Soul Origin at the local shopping centre, where they serve a very good 'wanker' - or almond decaf latte for non-coffee drinkers. He knows that it's the decaf which is the important part. Good decaf is hard to find. This is good decaf.
Of course, I could talk about the 30 word story I try and come up with every day. Today's word is 'obviate'. Like what am I going to write? Yesterday's word was 'yip'. I came up with this. It's pretty lame.
Instead, I'm going to write about my visit to the book shop, which was the highlight of my day.
After dropping the cat around to Blarney's place, we went for a coffee in Yarraville after which we went to the Sun Bookshop. Independent bookshops are one of life's joys. They're up there with cats and ice cream and good sex and boutique gin.
Blarney and I had about half an hour in there. I was in there with my handbag zipped closed and my hands in my pocket. I managed to get out of there without spending a cent, even though there were some art cards that I really, really wanted.
The Sun Bookshop isn't big, but it has a great selection. Blarney lingered over the crime novels. I looked over the literature section. We compared covers, talked about authors we liked. Blarney reads a lot more popular fiction. I've got more literary tastes.
I'm sitting here looking at my 'to read' pile. On top of the pile is Ducks, Newburyport by Lucy Ellman. It's a 1000 page tome written without paragraphs. It's a challenge.
We talked about this month's book group book, Fleischman is in Trouble. Blarney has read it - I haven't as yet. I need to finish Charlotte Wood's The Weekend first - only have 100 pages to go. There was some lingering over the cook books. Part of me wants to get the Ottelenghi's Simple - as everybody who's cooked something out of it I'd marry - fabulous stuff - but as I never have people over, what is the point. I'm about to sell / give away most of my cook books. I'll keep a couple. But why have them when you have the internet - other than they feel great to have and hold and treasure.
I love going to book shops with friends. I love the camaraderie and wonder of bookshops. I'll often go the the literature section and think what it would look like to have my book sitting there on the shelves.
Then there is the great feeling you get when you support the independent book shops. As much as I love my local Dymocks, there is something wonderful about supporting independent bookshops. The Readings, the Reader's Feasts, the Mary Martins - and of course, the second-hand book shops, of which I think it should be illegal to walk out of without at least one paperback.
I went to a bookshop. Okay, no money changed hands, but it made me feel really good.
It's the little things that make life special.
Today's Song:
I was going to write about dinner, and how I cooked myself a steak for dinner and how I love to heap on the condiments - tomato sauce, Dijon mustard, butter and Worcestershire Sauce - yes, all three, just because. But that would be daft and make me out to be the bogan that I am. (I grew up having steak, with onions, with margarine and Worcestershire Sauce - and I still think it's the best. Joys of having a grandfather who was a butcher). Then there was the joy of washing out the new non-stick pan, how the scourer glided over the pan in the hot soapy water.
Then I could talk about how much I'm missing the cat. I took him home today - and the flat feels very empty without him.
Then there was the great feeling of walking to my coffee shop this afternoon, nodding at Raj and all he had to ask me was, 'Medium or large?'. He's got my name and my order down. I am now a local at Soul Origin at the local shopping centre, where they serve a very good 'wanker' - or almond decaf latte for non-coffee drinkers. He knows that it's the decaf which is the important part. Good decaf is hard to find. This is good decaf.
Of course, I could talk about the 30 word story I try and come up with every day. Today's word is 'obviate'. Like what am I going to write? Yesterday's word was 'yip'. I came up with this. It's pretty lame.
Instead, I'm going to write about my visit to the book shop, which was the highlight of my day.
After dropping the cat around to Blarney's place, we went for a coffee in Yarraville after which we went to the Sun Bookshop. Independent bookshops are one of life's joys. They're up there with cats and ice cream and good sex and boutique gin.
Blarney and I had about half an hour in there. I was in there with my handbag zipped closed and my hands in my pocket. I managed to get out of there without spending a cent, even though there were some art cards that I really, really wanted.
The Sun Bookshop isn't big, but it has a great selection. Blarney lingered over the crime novels. I looked over the literature section. We compared covers, talked about authors we liked. Blarney reads a lot more popular fiction. I've got more literary tastes.
I'm sitting here looking at my 'to read' pile. On top of the pile is Ducks, Newburyport by Lucy Ellman. It's a 1000 page tome written without paragraphs. It's a challenge.
We talked about this month's book group book, Fleischman is in Trouble. Blarney has read it - I haven't as yet. I need to finish Charlotte Wood's The Weekend first - only have 100 pages to go. There was some lingering over the cook books. Part of me wants to get the Ottelenghi's Simple - as everybody who's cooked something out of it I'd marry - fabulous stuff - but as I never have people over, what is the point. I'm about to sell / give away most of my cook books. I'll keep a couple. But why have them when you have the internet - other than they feel great to have and hold and treasure.
I love going to book shops with friends. I love the camaraderie and wonder of bookshops. I'll often go the the literature section and think what it would look like to have my book sitting there on the shelves.
Then there is the great feeling you get when you support the independent book shops. As much as I love my local Dymocks, there is something wonderful about supporting independent bookshops. The Readings, the Reader's Feasts, the Mary Martins - and of course, the second-hand book shops, of which I think it should be illegal to walk out of without at least one paperback.
I went to a bookshop. Okay, no money changed hands, but it made me feel really good.
It's the little things that make life special.
Today's Song:
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