*happy sigh*
Jul. 1st, 2006 12:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stillaneThis has been an unexpectedly wonderful day, in the way that nothing truly momentous happened, but what did was great.
I slept late, had the house to myself for the afternoon, and met my mom for dinner. Since I drove down alone, I got to have some quality time with the windows down and the radio up, just thrumming along. I miss motoring, sometimes.
We had sushi, which always makes my world better, and then moseyed on over to the mall. Mom got her hair done and I wandered the long and winding path of the shopper. The local purveyor of smelly things was having a sale; I wound up with a pair of candles and some very nice lotion (lotus fruit and clean linen for the candles, japanese cherry blossoms for the other). I found the totebag of my dreams a little farther on, along with a soft, slightly decorative t-shirt. Further excursions led me to a vendor who insisted on introducing me to the wonders of salts from the Dead Sea - and while they were indeed wonderful, I wasn't quite willing to cough up the associated dollars. End result, light and harmless flirtation in pursuit of a sale on his part, and some very soft hands on mine. Wait... that sounds wrong...
And the surprise delight of the evening: while grocerying (grocing? what, precisely, is the gerund-ish version of that one? hmm.), we encountered the pickled okra I've been craving for months! It's not exactly commonplace around here, so this was something of a feat. (I only got hooked on them in Wyoming, myself.) Tonight, though, I stocked up on the elusive little bastards while I had the chance. For those who haven't yet encountered them, they're a bit like a normal pickle, except the skin is tougher, the seeds are more numerous and smaller, and they're covered in a light fuzz. Yay for fuzzy pickles.
Now I'm home again, doing battle with the persistent pooch. He thinks I should play ball. I think I shouldn't. He's winning, but only by virtue of his diabolical scheme. He drops the ball in my lap, where it then migrates under the desk. If I don't retrieve it - and yes, I am fully aware of the irony there, especially given his breed - he barks. Since the rest of the house is asleep, this is a bad thing. Darn him and his selective cleverness.
There's a lazy moon in the sky and it's been a peaceful night. I'm off to bed - provided I can hide the toys successfully - but here's hoping your days were just as pleasant.
ETA: Apparently, 'grocerying' will get you 'crucifying' when you run a spell check. Huh. So... not the right term, I'm guessing. Also, vaguely disturbing.
We had sushi, which always makes my world better, and then moseyed on over to the mall. Mom got her hair done and I wandered the long and winding path of the shopper. The local purveyor of smelly things was having a sale; I wound up with a pair of candles and some very nice lotion (lotus fruit and clean linen for the candles, japanese cherry blossoms for the other). I found the totebag of my dreams a little farther on, along with a soft, slightly decorative t-shirt. Further excursions led me to a vendor who insisted on introducing me to the wonders of salts from the Dead Sea - and while they were indeed wonderful, I wasn't quite willing to cough up the associated dollars. End result, light and harmless flirtation in pursuit of a sale on his part, and some very soft hands on mine. Wait... that sounds wrong...
And the surprise delight of the evening: while grocerying (grocing? what, precisely, is the gerund-ish version of that one? hmm.), we encountered the pickled okra I've been craving for months! It's not exactly commonplace around here, so this was something of a feat. (I only got hooked on them in Wyoming, myself.) Tonight, though, I stocked up on the elusive little bastards while I had the chance. For those who haven't yet encountered them, they're a bit like a normal pickle, except the skin is tougher, the seeds are more numerous and smaller, and they're covered in a light fuzz. Yay for fuzzy pickles.
Now I'm home again, doing battle with the persistent pooch. He thinks I should play ball. I think I shouldn't. He's winning, but only by virtue of his diabolical scheme. He drops the ball in my lap, where it then migrates under the desk. If I don't retrieve it - and yes, I am fully aware of the irony there, especially given his breed - he barks. Since the rest of the house is asleep, this is a bad thing. Darn him and his selective cleverness.
There's a lazy moon in the sky and it's been a peaceful night. I'm off to bed - provided I can hide the toys successfully - but here's hoping your days were just as pleasant.
ETA: Apparently, 'grocerying' will get you 'crucifying' when you run a spell check. Huh. So... not the right term, I'm guessing. Also, vaguely disturbing.
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no subject
Date: 2006-07-01 06:06 am (UTC)Ha! When I was in the UK I was accosted by a vender who was trying to sell me the wonders of the Dead Sea in hand care products. I am a hard sell (read that has have no money) and so he flirted outrageously for an hour and gave me what was essentially a free manicure. I didn't purchase a thing, but had fun and got a free nail buffer. So yes, soft hands are lovely even if wrong sounding.
Grocerying, grocing, grocerating, to grocer ... although that last sounds very wrong. Considering you get people who are titled grocer. Vaguely kinky. Huh.
I know okra (good soup) but pickles? I do not understand these pickles things you speak of. Pickled onion, pickled ginger (mmmm sushi) and pickled herring, but pickles? Ah, I must find out. :)
Sleep well and goodluck defeating the diabolical dog :)
no subject
Date: 2006-07-02 03:52 am (UTC)You appear to have given this option far too much thought. Should I be nervous? Admit it: you're secretly an evil overlord plotting the destruction of the entire human race. Possibly via laser. Or Teletubby. (Me, I've always suspected the world will end with a round, smiling, vaguely metrosexual figure wearing purple. Like the mutant lovechild of Lex Luthor and Buddha.)
No pickles?! Wow. I would never have guessed that this one was a particularly American thing. Huh. Pickles... How to explain pickles... Well, the pickled veggie in question here is a cucumber, and the default setting is 'dill'. These tend to be about four inches long, and come in slices, wedges, or whole. Other variations - depending on region - include butter pickles (which are sweeter), hot and sour pickles (which are self explanatory), and gherkins (which I cannot describe, and yet enjoy). Around here, it's pretty common for people to can their own, too.
Here's hoping you're on the healthy side of things and getting to enjoy some rest. :>
no subject
Date: 2006-07-03 01:55 am (UTC)Teletubbies with lasers. Or perhaps even Teletubbies aided by Dorothy the Dinosaur as the go on some sort of Godzilla inspired rampage. Only the teletubby will be sitting back in its command quarters make pop culture references to Dr. Evil and Lex Luthor.
Oh crap. Shhhh, you read nothing of that.
Ahh! I know what a gherkin is. *nod* My mum uses them in salads and stuff. I like them in summer. Um, I guess the only pickle you are going to encounter here is in McDonald's hamburgers, and as I would rather eat my own flesh ... :P Wow, I have just had a pickle education. *beams proudly* Thank you, I am ahead of the majority of Australia because I can talk about butter pickles and other sorts. Hah! Part of my cunning world domination plan.
See you say pickle to me and I think of pickled onion or pickle as in a type of conserve made out of tomato and onion. Pickled. :P You know if you type the word pickle out more than three times it begins to look rather strange.
Health is nearly restored and I am commencing relaxation now. *melts*