ponderings

Twice in two days, I've reported people to facebook for selling animals. My first report was upheld and the post removed. There's something a little bit (or even a lot) toxic about the amount of glee I feel when I make a report like this.

A customer I pulled out all the stops for called to say I made her year.

Milly has been here ten months and has been the most quiet, polite, well behaved old darling. This week she rose from her bed to (uninvited) lick out a bowl which had contained chocolate custard. (It had been left on a foot stool when the eater finished eating) When she did that, I knew she was home.

Last week I binge watched "Couples Therapy" which follows a therapist in New York and shows her work with a variety of couples. It was fascinating and informative. At least part of it was shot during lockdown and it was shocking to be reminded of things which were so impressive at the time but have faded from memory (circles on the grass in the park seemed part of a long ago nightmare)

While using book selling site recently, looking for a gift, I stumbed across a book called the Flavour Thesaurus. I bought a copy because it seemed interesting. It's a beautiful yellow book with the page edges dyed a shade of gorgeous I would describe as magenta. I viewed the book as a reference work, focussed on what flavours work together, but as I flicked through looking for a new flavour combo I came across this irresistable commentary on blueberries:

Blueberries get on my wick. It's not entirely their fault. It's just that all this stuff about antioxidants and phytochemicals gives them an air of piety only increased by that little flared crown they have at the top that looks like the collar of a choir boys cassock.