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.
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.
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.
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.
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?