Friday, 29 January 2016

On my mind

What's on my mind? I'll tell you what's on my mind.

1. The navet boule d'or
I don't really know what this is other than a small yellow turnip, but I think I have confirmation bias or something (is that what I mean? It isn't, is it. You know what I mean, I just tried to Google the expression I am looking for and it was a total disaster and only threw up a chat forum about threadworms. UPDATED: MrsStupidHead reminds me it is the Bader-Meinhof Phenomenon!) with these things, I am seeing them EVERYWHERE. I started sending M the menus from the virtuous organic hipster take away near here a few days ago and we soon realised that the navet boule d'or appears every day. An ordering glitch? We imagined them standing, staring gloomily into a gigantic sack of turnips every morning, trying to work out how they could hide them in the plat du jour. Anyway, since we spotted them there, they have been cropping up in all sorts of other contexts so I can only surmise there is a world glut of small yellow turnips. Have you encountered a navet boule d'or? Phone the turnip helpline and tell us more.

2. Gérard Depardieu
Thanks to this headline: "Gérard Depardieu, «fume un cerf» dans une nouvelle pub douteuse" (Gérard Depardieu "smokes a deer" in a dodgy new advert). I have not spoilt it by going off to read the actual article, because I prefer the version in my own head.

3. Tunnels
Brussels is having one of its periodic infrastructure related disaster-stroke-embarassments as all the tunnels on the inner ring road have this week been declared unsafe, and one is closed already for "at least a year" and the collective lamenting and reciprocal recrimination in all 18 layers of local government is great. As a public transport user I give no fucks whatsoever about this, but I am always entertained by the utter chaos that ensues when Brussels embarks on some ill-advised programme of public works and anticipate this will continue to provide amusement for years to come.

4. Silence
There have been people in the house for the second half of this week and I am sorry, I have hated every minute of it. I don't want talking, I don't want music, I don't want premature suggestions that it is lunchtime at 11:55. Leave me in my womancave and do not dream of disturbing me before 4pm, there is brooding to be done. I am genuinely considering a trip to Quaker meeting on Sunday just for an hour of uninterrupted (well, perhaps, who knows, I have never been in Brussels, maybe there are loads of chatty types being moved by the spirit here) silence.

5. Winterwatch
I get universal derision in this household for loving the BBC's Winterwatch, a bleaker offshoot of the more crowd-pleasing Springwatch, but I do not care. Where else could you watch a CARCASS-CAM? Recently a fox and a golden eagle had a fight over the carcass on carcass cam, I mean, how can you fail to be charmed by that? I live with soulless fiends. Loud, early-lunching soulless fiends.

6. Doughnuts
It turns out these guys are based about 5 minutes away from here, I can't see how this can possibly go wrong, says she typing with matcha glazed fingers and a salted caramel chin. I would also have a unprecedentedly popular doughnut Instagram post if my phone were not STILL with the uncommunicative dullards at iClinique. I am over it. I no longer care. Well, except for Instagram.

7. Sparking of joy
I had a useful discussion with F earlier today about what really sparks joy, Kondo-style for us. Our agreed joint list:

Cosmetics (including expensive bath oils)

E: Our Kondo-ed house would be a place of joy. Everyone would want to visit us. Except we wouldn't let them in because they don't spark joy.

F: We would have a spark-joy intercom. We'd check who was there and then not buzz anyone in.

E: "Sorry, no. Not feeling the joy."

8. No to this

You? What's on your mind and what really really sparks your joy?


Anonymous said...

I tentatively tried to introduce the 'sparks joy' principle in our house, but I do think it's impossible with small (or large) children in the house. Does Lego spark joy in me? No. Lightly chewed K-nex? No. Footless Barbies? No. Cheap, pink sparkly jewellery? No. Any of my other half's extensive selection of moth eaten t-shirt? No.

I realised that I'd have to replace pretty much everything in the house - possibly including various offspring and dogs - before joy was remotely sparked.

So I gave up and ate a digestive biscuit instead which was much more like it.

woollythinker said...

Books, booze and yarn (except that I have Too Much Yarn and contemplating the stash as an entity sparks guilt, rather than joy; but when the monsters throw my yarn around the room so that they can play in the newly emptied chest/cupboard, it – the yarn thus revealed, not the monsters – honestly does spark joy). My phone. (I just parted with it for SIX SODDING WEEKS so I feel your repair-related pain.) Being left alone for any reliable length of time from 10 minutes up. My children are both small and demanding; there is nothing in the whole world more precious than Quiet Time. Not even sleep. So again: I feel your pain. People in the house are a problem of note.

CJ said...

I have the Kondo book, you have made me wonder if I should actually read it. All the calm organised things seem so far away from my reality. Also loving Winterwatch. I find Springwatch very harrowing, all those little chickies being eaten by things, and I will remember the graphically filmed fate of the kingfisher offspring to my dying day. Every night, another bunch of deaths.

Anonymous said...

I would feel more joy if Delhaize sold swedes and parsnips, not turnips - golden or any other kind. I have only seen swede in Rob (The Gourmet Supermarket), and I do not have time to fight my way past the fur coats to the tills there. Harumph.

frau antje said...

Very recently witnessed a couple of unfortunately familiar locals with an outboard motor, upright in a 55 gallon drum full of water on the effing sidewalk, that they were trying to start. Excuse me if this is some sort of nautical procedure anyone has ever heard of, but HAD that engine turned over, I do believe some joy would have been sparked (by the sheer carnage) (judge away, but I don't watch carcass cam).

Inadvertently being behind you or anyone else who blurted out I fucking hate this place would spark real joy. Don't tell me, I'm confused about joy.

I once considered going to Quaker meetings to see if I could detect a familial resemblance between the small child I knew and 'some guy' that might be there. I would also look for him when I checked books out of the library. Eventually did meet him, but now I'm just rambling.

Flora Fauna Dinner said...

Did you see the polecats on Winterwatch?? They reminded me of your polecat/ferret carcass.

Waffle said...

Jane - Of COURSE. I love them. I am sad Winterwatch is over.

Anonymous said...

Turnip hotline call:

"I had navets boules d'or in my beef stew at a fancy bistro in the southwestern USA on Friday night. Turnips throw off the taste of wine. Fecking turnips ruined our fancy burgundy. Please send help!"

True story. I have nothing against turnips, I just don't want them at fancy dinners with expensive wines.

(Okay, I really just don't want turnips. Ever.)

You are the best, Emma! So glad you're blogging more often these days!

Rosie Redfield said...

Are navets boules d'or the yellow turnip-like vegetables that are often called swedes or rutabagas? Are they special? (Google was no help on this.)

Waffle said...

Rosie - Much smaller than swede/rutabaga. Walnut sized.

Oxfordshire said...

I remember the occasional Rob visit in the mid 1970's...a source of glamourous fascination for two little girls. The GB in Auderghem was our beloved local! Cx

Waffle said...

Anon! I forgot to say this - our Delhaize (Av de Fré) has both swede AND parsnips, I checked especially for you, but they are in the hippie section ("légumes oubliés", next to the Bio). No one is buying them though, so probably not for long.

Anonymous said...

Why would anyone want teeny turnips? More than half suspect these are flower bulbs instead. Be wary maybe-turnip eater.

Anonymous said...

In googling to find out whether forgotten vegetables were indeed a thing, I have made the pleasant discovery that une courge is a squash. The idea of a courgette being a squash-ette is amusing me. Send help. And decongestants.

Anonymous said...

Dear E,

after having followed you for some time now- here and on Instagram- just wanted to let you know, that reading your blog-archive is about the only thing that 's keeping me sane in my current job.
If considering yourself to be sane while laughing uncontrollably in otherwise empty office is something you can relate to...
Anyway... thanks for blogging!
And I hope to get this out in the way I want without autocorrect interfering...
Lol Romy

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