Foraging

Since La received my “eating plan” from Dr Liu last week, you know, the one Chairman Mao laughed uproariously at in la last post, I’ve been taking a different path and partaking of the finer fruits of the earth.

Due to his recommendation that La eats no more than half a Lebanese cucumber each day for seven days, plus sachets of sino-sludge, Dr Liu and I have temporarily parted ways.

La celebrated this divorce and the end of a super-busy stint at the Wordporium with a drink with Bateman’s Bay at Palmer & Co, where, happily, we bumped into Sarah Terrific-Home and her chums Wenty and Becster.

Bateman’s and I met at 5, and I figured I’d be home to relieve La Nanny Trivialista by 6.30, 6.45 at a pinch.

But believe it or not, La Lushalista tottered out of there on los towering Bionda Castanas at 10.15.

Signor Seriousimo was gracious enough not to make a big deal of la late repatriation to the palazzo in such a ruffled state. Bless that bloke.

Was still feeling ever-so-slightly grog-poisoned yesterday morning; yep, it proved to be that wiliest of beasts, the nasty two-day hangover.

So I dragged the Junior Cost Centres off to Eveleigh Markets so Kylie Kwong could personally cook me an organic, locavore, super-sustainable restorative street food brekkie of pork buns.

Those markets are so awesome; love them sick.

The male Junior Cost Centre chose market-appropriate neckwear.

And the girlchild coordinated her rain-repelling attire.

“Holy crepe!” we cried in unison, then went in for the kill.

La was in bloom heaven.

There are loads of happy poochalistas at Eveleigh.

And L’am back on the bean, but only one a day.

Lord knows what Dr Liu would make of all this. Think I prefer the Kylie Kwong regime to his, though.

Ciao x