Canyoning

Loving Laself in my Clover Canyon top. It’s happy clothing.

Took the JCCs to brekkie at our new local this morning.  Do you see any problems associated with this name, or is it just me?

As the JCCs observed, “Will they serve us burnt toast?”

It’s a new café incarnation at a site where the previous incumbents were, in La humble but well-caféd opinion, a bunch of surly would-be hipsters, all of whom had the hump that they had to serve babycino after babycino to crusty-nosed infants rather than single origin Kenya Kichwa Tembo to fellow dudes with low-slung dacks and ears and noses full of spacers.

However, not much seems to have changed.  The previous dudes have been replaced by newer dudes, the latter bunch perhaps sporting more piercings and ink than spacers and ink.

FFS, it’s pram-and-school-jam-central where we live; if you don’t like it, hop on back over to the other side of Parramatta Road.  And take your snarl with you.

And now to a topic of which a would-be hipster would thoroughly disapprove:  loo roll.

For La money, this is the pick of the bunch.  Always $10, always reliable.  So cheap for 20 rolls! Anyone else of fan of the Quilton?  We seem to eat the stuff in our house, so achieving a suitable price v quantity ratio is important.

Any mention of toily paper reminds me of my old working days in Londra.  Not the very early days when I was so impoverished I had to steal the stuff from my employer (a charity — gods forgive me!), but the time Miss A and I were working together at a past Wordporium and had to come up with a crisis management strategy for the launch of a new range of bog roll. We were called upon to cover issues of such import as “poke-through” (manufacturer’s terminology, not ours) and “flush resistance”. It was around that time that both of us realised it was time to find a new Wordporium.

The weight loss mission continues.  In the Era of Frugaility, the best thing to do is go shopping in one’s closet. Sadly, either the moths have nibbled some of La clothes smaller or La girth is getting larger. All clothing cupboards beneath the dusty rafters of Palazzo Trivialista are chock full of moth balls, as I live in fear of cashmere-ocide at the hands of the winged beasts.  So dang, I guess it’s the latter.

Thus, bo luc lac. This was delicious.

Happy Wednesday.