Logic gets cold feet

I hate food shopping on a weekend. I am writing this on a Sunday (just about), having had a very pleasant afternoon and evening playing Magic with some friends. However, before that, supplies needed to be replenished.

Unfortunately for our sanity, it seems that everyone else had had the same idea, with the result that Tesco was packed with seemingly entire families. Why is it that parents spend ages chatting to someone in the middle of the aisles and then become angry with their children, who - for some strange reason - have got themselves into trouble through sheer boredom?

We actually happened across one of our neighbours, and it was a mutual decision on the part of all concerned that we would nod, smile, and then do our level best to get the hell out of there ASAP.

As we passed by one section, we noticed that there were some items that had been reduced in price. That is, Tesco had stopped overcharging for them so much, in an effort to clear some space in their warehouses. One such item was a pack of foot warmers. Essentially a gel pack that warms through chemical means once the pack is opened, just like those available for hands, backs, and various other parts of the body.

Yes, but these are for the feet, yes? That means they need to have a different shape and a new pack. Oh, and a new price...

For 75p, though, I did have to admit that it might be worth a pop, just for the one try. Not for me, you understand - my feet tend to be fine. Julie's feet, on the other hand, frequently resemble blocks of ice. Being the thoughtful husband, I pointed these out, but there seemed to be a problem.

Something about my blank stare must have told Julie that I didn't feel all that up to speed on the conversation, so she generously explained that she had, in fact, been referring to her ankles.

...riiiight...

Baneful Bunnies

I'm always thinking of other people; if I see something that a member of my family or one of my friends would like or be interested in, I will instantly make the connection and think that it would be kind of nice to get it as a surprise gift.

With that in mind, I always look at the bird/wild animal feed sections of shops, normally to get ideas for possible gifts for my mother, who is something of a bird-watcher. Well, she tries to watch them, but the feathery buggers disappear as soon as my mother manages to get hold of her binoculars...

It's not just seed and hedgehog food on those shop shelves though. Normally, you will also find stuff for popular pets that aren't dogs or cats; guinea pigs, mice and rabbit - that kind of thing.

We were shopping yesterday, and I saw this product nestling on one of the shelves.

A dandelion salad for rabbits and rodents? Cute. It also brought to mind Sharron, one of my friends. I have mentioned her before, but usually in connection with one or the other of her daughters, both of whom have a wonderful knack of coming out with wonderfully innocent and sweet comments. This time, though, I remembered that Sharron has a couple of rabbits, and I thought this could be of interest to her - well, the rabbits, at least. I mentioned this to Julie, although in retrospect, I should have phrased it differently...

The great Greek flip-flop flop

Heh - say that fast three times in a row...

Anyway - as I mentioned in Monday's post, We have a friend from Greece visiting for a few days. Since she and Julie are familiar with each other, it was no effort to either of them to fall into an easy banter - especially when it came to taking digs at me. Julie may come out with some odd things now and then (yes, really!!), but she is very quick-witted, and usually manages to put me in my place with no problem.

However, the Sunday was the first day after our friend arrived and she was still somewhat jetlagged. Since I am really not at all good in the morning, Julie was pretty much the only bright spark in a sea of bleary dullness. It didn't help that I had the grand idea of taking our friend to her first car boot fair, an event which can be best described as a yard sale held in a field, where everyone turns up to sell their crap - I mean surplus goods.

As you can tell, you do get some turn up in vans; traders of one sort or another - but they have to pay a larger pitch fee as they will take up more space. Fair play. It is truly astonishing, though, just what people try to sell. Mind you, it's not nearly as astonishing as the fact that people will actually buy it. From rusty car parts, old Paul Young records (usually No Parlez) to a truly staggering amount of baby clothes and dog-eared paperback books, you will find pretty much everything.

On the other hand, you will also find the odd hidden gem, something that is just what you need. That rusty car part might be from an Aston Martin, a part that was last in production fifty years ago. If you are living on the breadline and are expecting a baby, this will be an ideal way to clothe your newborn tot. And yes, there are still some Paul Young fans out there.

As for me and Julie, we view these events as a good opportunity to add to our already substantial collection of hedgehog ornaments, toys and nick-nacks. It may have been at a car boot fair or in a charity shop that we managed to snag a lovely hedgehog doorstop.

Handsome chappie, no? Oddly enough, we haven't named this one, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time.

But I digress. This hedgehog is not simply for looks, we do utilise it as a doorstop. In fact, the door it is responsible for is that which belongs to the guest room, the room in which our friend is currently sleeping as I type this.

Back to the car boot fair. It had been a hot day and we had just dragged our still-weary friend around a dusty field. Having said that, we did treat her to her very first cream tea - with clotted cream, naturally. Unfortunately, despite the delicious refreshments and the elation of having bought her very first item from a car boot fair (a Stephen Fry book), our friend was unaccountably tired, so we bundled her off to her room for a bit of a rest.

On the way into her room, though, she stumbled. Now, I thought she had tripped over the 'hoggy doorstop, and, jokingly, accused her of mistreating that poor, poor animal, "I mean, what has it ever done to you?" I demanded.

How wrong I was. Our friend had not been guilty of mistreating a weighty stuffed animal, but of making a small misstep as a result of her footwear.

You mean, instead of being 'flop-flip'?

Heh. What a day; first boot fair, first cream tea - and her first Gem.

The worms that turned... into something else.

Our family, as a rule, are very friendly towards wildlife. My mum has a large garden, and birdwatching is a hobby. It makes sense, then, to attract birds to the garden. At the far end, there is a pond, designed to attract various animals, insects and birds especially. One of my father's happiest and proudest moments was when a passing heron decided to drop in and inflict a massive casualty rate on the amphibian population. As I was quick to remind him though, just because the pond works for attracting wildlife, the bamboo he had planted nearby was very unlikely to tempt any pandas...

The more common means of getting birds to drop in is by a number of feeders, offering different types of foods. Seeds, nuts and fat balls.
Yes, let's get the sniggering out of the way shall we? This is what I'm talking about.

Balls of nuts, seeds, and or bits of various invertebrates, moulded into a spherical shape and held together by  fat.
Whenever we visit, we always try and take along some supplies, just so the birds don't go hungry. We're kind like that. However, asking for these supplies does tend to make for awkward conversations. Asking if someone 'wants fat balls' in a public place is guaranteed to earn you a nervous look or two.
Especially if you add the word 'Mum' to that sentence.
It's not all balls, though. There are also fat blocks, which are most usually filled with mealworms or insects. There are others, though. Some have fruit, some have seeds, but those aren't wanted.

Thus is was that Julie was out browsing some shops, and happened to go into one place that had a section for bird food. Once the obligatory muttered conversation about 'fat balls' was out of the way, Julie tried to find out just which of the different blocks on offer were the ones wanted by Mum.
And then the confusion set in.

I very nearly asked if they actually had blocks with ringworm, but then I decided I wasn't all that interested in finding out and rather hurriedly dropped the whole conversation...