Thursday, July 31, 2008

Cruelty to animals


I just read this article about a very fat cat in the Age, which made my blood boil. Overfeeding an animal so they get fat is a form of animal cruelty. This cat has restricted mobility - can you imagine it being about to leap onto a table, like my cat can even at 15? It probably has sore joints.
Overweight dogs have the same health problems associated with being overweight in humans - type II diabetes, increased risk of stroke, heart attack, and cancer. In the wild, dogs' weight is regulated by them having to hunt for their food, which is not always successful. If we keep them in captivity, we need to regulate their food intake, they can't do it themselves. Feeding them extra does not equal extra love.
In a healthy dog (unless it's a particularly fuzzy breed) you can see the back three ribs. Ribs, people, ribs. Not rolls of fat. If it's a fuzzy breed, you can feel them even if you can't see them. Cats are less ribby, but shouldn't have rolls of fat. If they do, feed them less and exercise them more - dogs obviously need walks, and cats need play (dangle things for them to pounce on, put a ping pong ball in the bath (no water, clearly) and put them in there with it, that sort of thing).
I used to have a boyfriend whose parents (who were also fat) had a particularly fat blue heeler called (appropriately) Hippo. We used to go and stay at their place when they went on holidays (since they had a swimming pool, indoor and outdoor spas, and a daily housekeeper, this was clearly the shit), and each time by the time they got back, Hippo was looking quite svelte, thanks to a combination of me feeding him a healthy diet and taking him for daily walks in the park (not that hard an ask, since their garden backed on to the bloody park) and throwing him a ball. Each time, they complained that I'd been starving and neglecting him. Grrr.
When I was a kid, we had a labrador, name of Bobby. Labradors are the greediest creatures on the face of the earth. This one used to eat anything he could lay his paws on, even if it wasn't edible. And I don't just mean chew, I mean down the gullet (and often, out the other end). Socks from the washing line, contraceptive pills, entire tubes of aluminium foil (and one memorable Easter, all my friend Andy's Easter eggs, foil and all), latex handy gloves (an entire pack, mind you, and he would also eat other, ahem, latex items), two-dozen hash cookies (he was very calm and peaceful for about 48 hours afterwards, and we could barely get him to get out of his basket to go wee on the garden), and once when he escaped and fled down the road to the all-you-can-eat "restaurant", three whole chocolate cakes (he was violently ill afterwards, the only time he was ever off his food). But he still never got fat. You could see ribs. PU#2 used to boil tripe for him (it reeked), and he used to get boiled tripe, or horrible dog chicken that got delivered in buckets), rice and any left-over veggie scraps. Sometimes he got an egg, as a treat. He was walked, every day.
He did not get too much food. He did not get too little exercise. He never got fat. It's not that difficult, and there's no excuse for a fat dog or cat. Except if they've got some weird medical condition maybe, but I'd want to see a letter from the vet.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Ode to my nose

O nose, you are so runny
and it really isn't funny
No matter how I blow
it does not stem the flow
all my hankies have been used
but my nose, still it oozed.

I wake up in the night
and something's just not right
while my head's been on one side
there has been a great divide -
one nostril's free of snot
but the other, oh, is not.

In the morning I arise
and my nostrils I baptise
with oxymetazoline hydrochloride
and my nose feels slightly dried
But by the time I catch the train
it's running like buggery again.

O nose, please stop with the running
it's really not very funning
it makes me feel quite uneasy
when you are so constantly sneezy
I need you to stop,
or I'll give you the chop.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Thanks for the memories

So, I am once again typing from Hugo's laptop, which now has 512 metric kilofortnights of ram, according to me, or 448, according to it.

The laptop has been slower than a wet week for months, and when Pete removed the ram last weekend to see what was the what, it stopped working altogether. A fruitless trip to the computer shop across the road bore no fruit. Ebay almost bore fruit, but luckily it turned out the guy had made a mistake in the listing and was selling 1 gigahexal ram things instead of 256 as listed, and the laptop won't cope with a gigazegal, as noted when the fruitless expedition to the computer shop took place. Luckily my sibling unit#1, who is almost as useful as my PU#2 in terms of random shit they hoard like squirrels (not that I can talk) had two 256 megahertzels of laptop ram lying about, and this morning he dropped it off on his way to take the kidlets bowling, inspiring me to the first bad pun of the weekend (which I will be hard pressed to match), "Thanks for the memories".

So, I put it in, using the handy green screwdriver I stealthily stowed when PU#2 was here installing our IXL Tastic last weekend, and despite some nagging worries that it was the slot and not the ram, I put it in.

Of course the only reason it worked at all was because I loudly declaimed that it wouldn't work as I put it in, and while I switched it on. And lo, the laptop worketh.

As far as I'm concerned there are three ways to fix electickal items:
1. turn it off then turn it back on
2. thump it hard on the top (this technique particularly useful for tellies)
3. talk loudly about why what you're doing won't work, the thing is broken and can not be repaired the whole time you're trying to fix it.

Technique number three can be used in conjunction with one and two.

Also, I am typing from bed, thanks to the wireless network now available throughout our apartment (thanks to Chai, who lent us a wireless router, and Pete, who set up the network). It's probably giving us brain tumours, but hey, everything has a price. We're supposed to be going out for a late lunch with David & Joce, so I must now go do another coat of paint on the bathroom cupboard, and then get dressed in non-painting clothes.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Kitty is helping me work


Some would think that when you work from home, you lack company. Not so here, where I have a feline co-worker who takes a real interest in the contents of my email. Also note my lovely yellow cup - I MUST have my morning coffee from a yellow cup, it's so nice and sunshiney. And I particularly love this one, which has a wavy top and reminds me of a daffodil (I am also peculiar in that I only like tea out of cups with white insides, because I can't tell whether the tea is the right strength if it's coloured on the inside).

Sometimes she helps by pointing out the right keys with her nose (exceedingly helpful, as I have typed too much and therefore all the letters have rubbed off my keys. Well, some of the letters, notably e,a,s,n,h,t,i,o, and l. Also parts of m,y,u,c and w).


Sometimes, she helps by doing the typing for me, although paws are not particuarly well designed for accuracy and it causes a lot of random beepings.


And sometimes, she stops me from writing complete and utter garbage important reports for work by handily placing herself between me and the keyboard as a peaceful protest against the use of jargon and the inevitable decay of the English language.

And then settles down for a long winter's nap.

More coffee, I say

I woke up this morning with a throat that was sore
I made porridge for breakfast and coffee galore
But now it's mid-morning, I'm starting to snore
So I need some more coffee, more coffee, more, MORE!

I go to the kitchen, I open the door
I search in the cupboards, I open each drawer
There are no packs of coffee, I thought I had four
So now I will need to go out, to the store.

Oh this leaving the house, it is such a bore
I will have to remove the pyjamas I wore
And get dressed in real clothes, a task I abhor
To go buy some coffee, grown in East Timor.

Such hardship, it's like living through a world war
With rationing so harsh, it makes me quite sore
But much as I whinge, whine, rant - even roar
I'll just have to go out, for my coffee I adore.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Tasks for the week

I just discovered, to my horror, that Hugo has eaten a whole tub of icecream in about two days. So my number one task for the week is not buying any more icecream.


I was in the process of making stewed rhubarb for our porridge (just for some variety from the berries we've been having in it - although on that note can we please discuss the genius of whoever decided to market frozen berries? What a boon that has been. Also frozen cherries - berry nudicious) when I noticed the empty icecream tub. Making stewed rhubarb was one of my tasks for the week. The others are:


(1) appliquing some daisies onto our doona cover with holes - I did half a daisy last night at stitch and bitch, and it looks COOL! I had an image in my head, and for once what I've done actually looks like what I pictured. I love when that happens (not that often).


(2) making some art for the bathroom. Obviously, given the non-optimum-archival-conditions in the average bathroom, you don't want to store your artistic works of genius in there. So I was wondering what I could use to, you know, artify the bathroom. And I had an idea (has to happen occasionally). You know that paper you can make iron-on transfers with? I'm going to print photos of ducks, cut them out so I just have duck with no background, and iron them on to canvases (smallish squares, I'm thinking). Instant bathroom art. I love ducks (also to eat, tasty) and it seems appropriate to have ducks above the bath. These are the pics I've found:



So on Friday when I'm in the office again, I need to get some canvas squares (Riot Art & Craft upstairs from work has cheap canvases) and some transfer paper.
And I just had the first bite of my porridge with rhubarb, and can I just say OMG TASTE SENSATION (I stewed a bunch of rhubarb with about a third of a vanilla bean, split, and 3 heaped tbs of dehydrated sugar cane juice - like raw sugar but with more flavour, and apparently some micro nutrients that you lose in processed sugar. Whatevs, but tasty. Added about 3 heaped tbs rhubarb to each bowl of porridge, mixed through with 1 heaped tbs brown sugar. Brown sugar is v necessary on porridge. The cat, as usual, is now sitting staring at me as I eat, because she wants porridge).
But I digress.
(3) finish painting woodwork in bathroom and start on walls. The horror, the horror. Am so over painting. But it's getting to the point where I can actually picture what it will look like once it's done, which is quite motivating.
(4) find out whether I am eligible to get the $8000 solar rebate. If so, apply for it and purchase solar system. If not, start writing letters to politicians about the stupidity of the whole rebate system (the ownership of the apartment is more complex than just me owning it, which makes the rebate sitch more complex).

Friday, July 18, 2008

What NOT to do about peak oil

It seems pretty clear that the price of oil is not coming down any time soon, and peak oil is getting to be more of a mainstream concept and less of the world of conspiracy theorists and the sort of nuts who stockpile gold bars and guns under their beds. And for the record, I think we probably are at (or have just passed) peak oil production world-wide.

That does not mean, though, that the sky is falling and we is all doomed (doomed, I tells yous). Nor does it mean we need to run for the hills with survivalist equipment and a stockpile of anything. Some of you might remember the vegan who took issue with me a few months ago and called me a troll (in a deliciously ironic move, as she was leaving trollish comments on the blog at the time)? She's written a post about peak oil, and since I can't comment on her blog because of aforementioned disagreement where I asserted that I didn't need to read a book about diet written by a vegan to know I disagreed with it (just like I don't need to read a book by a scientologist about psychiatry to know I disagree with it, or a book by a hard-line Catholic about women's reproductive rights to know I disagree with it, or a book by a terrorist about politics, etc etc), as she now just deletes my comments, I am going to comment on it here.

But first, yes, oil has gone up in price, and yes, I think it will continue to go up. But we haven't run out, and we're not likely to run out in the near future. We have other options. Biofuels made of waste products rather than food crops are not that far off commercialisation. There are other technologies. Humans are really rather clever, and although I think there will be a period of transition, and although I think that we will have to stop living such ridiculously wasteful lives, I do not think the world is going to go to hell in a handbasin because of this. Cluttercut, on the other hand, does. And she's fleeing the big city, because everyone else dying off doesn't have to be grim news, as long as you're one of the ones who gets saved. Charming attitude, I don't think.

First, she says "If you are in a large city (anything above about 200,000 people counts as large in my books), get out of it."

Why?

In short, because there will be riots and crime, we'll all starve, if we grow our own food the government will come and "redistribute" it, we don't know our neighbours, the people down the road, the Mayor, the officials, the police officers etc.

Well, I actually know my neighbours, the people down the road, my councillors (including the Mayor), my four local Labor MPs (quite well, they'd all know who I am, if you aksed them), and I have met my state Liberal MP as well (he'd probably remember me campaigning against him, I suspect). I admittedly don't know any local police officers, and I'm not sure what she means by "officials". What "officials" are there, other than our elected representatives?

She goes on with the doom/gloom "Any burst water mains, problems with sewers etc., may remain unfixed. Correct sewerage combined with germ theory is the real reason human life expectancy increased this last century. Modern drugs and medicine had very little to do with it. Modern cities may soon become disease-ridden stinkholes."

That last point, needless to say, is rubbish - human life expectancy has increased in the last century for a variety of reasons, and modern drugs actually have quite a lot to do with one big reason for the increase - women don't die in childbirth nearly as often since the advent of antibiotics. In many developing countries, childbirth is still the number one killer of women of child-bearing age. Antibiotics (along with better nutrition) is the main reason why that number has gone down in the developed world. And it doesn't take much to work out that childhood immunisations (particularly against smallpox) have reduced the death rate from childhood diseases enormously - although I do think we are now over-immunising.

Yes, if you're in a city and there's an outbreak of disease, you're more likely to catch it. On the other hand, you're also more likely to have access to adequate medical care. If it really did become the case that petrol was completely unobtainable (and I really don't think that's the case for a single second), I'd far rather be within walking distance of a doctor if I (or someone in my family) had a medical emergency, than be somewhere in the middle of the country with a nice crop of food but no access to medical care - or the petrol I needed to get to it.

Which brings us to the issue of food. People in cities won't starve - in Hong Kong, where there are 5 million in a just 1,060 km², they manage to produce 45% of the fresh vegetables, 15% of the pigs, and 68% of the chickens consumed by the population. And that's in an area around 1/8th the size of Melbourne, with an extra 1 1/2 million people. In Cuba, they also grow most of the food they need within city boundaries, Singapore manages to produce a lot of what they need despite having next to no rural land - the lists go on. It would be perfectly possible to produce what we need within the urban boundaries of Melbourne, since we have 8806 km² and only 3.5 million people. Check out wikipedia's article on urban agriculture.

Yes, petrol's going to get more expensive, but that doesn't mean we're all going to starve - it means that as it goes up, and food prices go up as a consequence, we'll have more motivation to grow our own, and more people will start doing it. I've read than an area 6 m² can actually feed a couple of people year round, if planted intensively, and most people in Melbourne have that much. With better management of our water (and the projects that the government is currently doing to cover over irrigation channels etc is a very important part of this), a desal plant (run entirely on green energy) to saveguard our supplies (and yes, I think it should be a recycling plant, but I know how politically unpalatable that is at the moment), and more and more uptake of water tanks and grey water systems, it doesn't seem particuarly necessary for anyone in Melbourne to starve.

She continues: "What we did: We did what I'm suggesting, trading a large city (nearly 4 million people) for a small one (120,000). We've left friends, family and two careers behind to do it. I'm that certain things are going to get rough."

Leaving friends and family behind means you've left your support networks. You've left the very people who won't let you starve if times really did get that tough. We're walking distance from my PUs, my aunt, and in a pinch my brother and SIL and their kids (long walk though!) and my grandmother. Any one of them would take us in. We'd have a roof over our heads, heat and people to share the burdens. Why you'd leave that behind is beyond me - and conversely, why you'd abandon the people closest to you to flee and save your own skins, also beyond me.

Cluttercut goes on to talk about how essential it is to have a supply of water that's not dependent on the mains. Since Melbourne actually has extremely good water infrastructure, I'm not so worried about this, although we'd certainly put in a tank if we had room. She seems to think it's likely that "town water supplies are an obvious and easy target for terrorist groups and war tactics." Not really. I don't know if she's ever been to see any water infrastructure, but from that comment I'd say it's unlikely. I, on the other hand, have a father who worked from Melbourne Water for 30 years, and in my childhood was dragged around just about every resevoir, water catchment, sewage treatment plan, pumping station etc in Melbourne. Believe me, it's not that easy to disrupt Melbourne's water supply. Most of it's very well secured indeed.

She says "most of Australia's cities are rationed" - actually, they're not rationed, uses are restricted. There's a pretty big difference. If something is rationed, you can only use a certain amount. If something's use is restricted, you're not allowed to (for example) wash cars or water lawns with it, but you still get as much as you need to drink and to use inside the house.

Unfortunately, we can't predict with any degree of accuracy what climate change is likely to do. I could move to England, where there's much more rainfall than here - H & I both have British passports - but it's possible that Europe might be plunged into an ice-age if the gulf stream stops, er, streaming. Then we'd be screwed. We could move somewhere with high rainfall - as she smugly admits to doing - only to find that it became a desert. There are no guarantees.

Growing your own food, I'm all for, so I'm not going to argue with that. I'm all for a sense of community, too.

She thinks banks will start calling in people's home loans - that's a ridiculous bit of paranoia. Our banks are reserve-bank backed, the whole country would have to be so entirely screwed for that to happen - and in those circumstances, the banks wouldn't have a reason to call in debts anyway, because they'd get two-thirds of bugger all for their trouble, as the homes would be worthless.

But the bit that really, really made me shake my head was this:

"I think we're headed for a die off of massive propertions. That could be grim news, but it doesn't have to be, if you plan and work towards making sure you're not one of those who goes down when the sun sets."

Basically, she's arguing that as long as SHE isn't one of the ones who'll die, the whole thing's fine - doesn't have to be grim news that all those other people are dying. The words "I'm all right, Jack" spring to mind. What an incredibly selfish attitude.

I think climate change is one of the biggest challenges humanity has ever faced, if not the biggest. To me, the challenge is how we address it without screwing people over. We need to raise the price of energy - how do we do that without the poorest in our communities disproportionately bearing the burden? What can we do to encourage reduced consumption without the economy going bung? How do we make sure we use our resources rationally, so that everyone still has access to good-quality medical care, so that some people are not driving round in Hummers while other people have no access to public transport (actually, let's just stop anyone from driving round in a Hummer, fuck them), so that everyone has enough to eat and our water supplies are secure? To me, heading for the hills is not the answer - we shouldn't be aiming for a world where some people get to sit smugly by thinking they're ok, and with enough to eat, not caring if there are food riots elsewhere and people starving in our cities. What sort of a vision is that?

If I did believe we were all screwed, I'd still be right here, making sure that I did as much as possible to keep our city, our state, our country and our world on the right track. I don't believe we're all screwed, but still.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

One useful thing a day

I have a new resolution, which is that I'm doing one useful thing to declutter/fix up the house/save energy/save money every day.

This started on the weekend.

So far, I have knitted a scarf from random bits of wool (and I'm part-way through another one) (you should see my random wool stash, it's quite scarily large), fixed the kitchen window with PU#2, and then stuck felty stuff round the outside and stuffed up the ventilation holes with an old post bag, baked two loaves of bread, bought a new oven mitt for $2.50 from the op shop (the old ones had holes in them and I was burning my fingers getting bread out of the oven), taken a bag of stuff to the op shop, and now I am washing two bags of fleece that I got ages ago (they smell so nice raw that I almost didn't want to). And can we please just discuss how FILTHY fleece is? You should have seen the water that came out. And they say pigs are unclean. They've got nothing on a sheep.

I might felt the fleece (once it's clean), or I might spin it using a drop spindle. It would be pretty cool to knit something with wool I'd spun myself.

I'm sure there was other stuff. I ordered some energy saving lightglobes, but since they haven't arrived yet I can't count them as anything yet. Hugo's just gone up to the pub to get eggs (there's a guy who works at the pub who has chickens, they lay fantastic eggs, but it's all very cloak-and-dagger as he's not really supposed to sell them from the pub. H goes in there and (apparently) says "The eagle flies at midnight" and gets a dozen eggs - I'm not sure whether they're taking the piss).

Oh, Hugo just got back - eggie sangwiches all round.

What I really should be doing is finishing painting the bathroom, but it's pretty cold for painting (or at least that's my excuse, and I'm stickin' to it!)

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Coles "environmental" policies

UPDATE:

I had not one, but TWO responses from Ian McLeod (after I emailed him again to clarify a point), who has said that he appreciates me bringing the problem to his attention, and will ask the Store Operations Director to reiterate the policy to their stores.

*******

It's really starting to piss me off that Coles have lovely little signs up at all their checkouts saying that if you buy two items or less, they'll only give you a plastic bag if you aks for one.

And yet, every time I go in there to buy one or two things, they automatically go to give me a bag and I have to tell them not to, and point out the sign. At which stage the beleaguered checkout chick tells me that people "get upset" if they're not given a bag for the two things that they could very well just carry out to their massive and unnecessary vehicle, or put in their handbag.

Let them get upset, I say. They deserve to get upset. They're wasting plastic bags, killing marine life, using up oil and polluting the planet. They deserve to be upset. I, however, am upset about the fact that Coles are touting their "environmental" policy, while blatantly ignoring it, so I am writing to Ian McLeod, the managing director of Coles, to aks him to please educate his staff about ACTUALLY FOLLOWING their own damn environmental policy. They also have an Environmental and Social Programs manager, according to their website, but damned if I can find their contact details anywhere.

Here's what I've written (and if you want to write too, his email seems to be ian.mcleod@coles.com.au)

Dear Mr McLeod,

I frequently shop at Coles, and since we are lucky enough to have one just down the road from us, I often only buy one or two items.

There are notices up at each checkout, stating that if a customer only purchases one or two items, then they won't be offered a plastic bag (except on request) in order to reduce the use of plastic bags - a laudable initiative.

Or it would be, if it actually happened. Each time I only buy one or two items, the checkout operator gives me a plastic bag. I politely point out the sign, and that it's Coles policy that I should NOT be given a bag for one or two items. They tell me that customers "get upset" if they're not given a plastic bag automatically.

Clearly, in order for this policy to work, you need to train you staff on the coalface. They need to be able to explain to the customers who "get upset" that this is the environmental policy, to reduce the number of plastic bags used, but that they can have one if they want one. If the staff continue to give everyone a plastic bag for one or two items, whether the customer asks for it or not, then your policy is nothing but greenwashing, and is doing nothing to protect the environment.

I believe you were probably unaware of this situation, which is why I am writing to let you know. Now that you know what's going on, I hope you will take action to address the issue - and I'd like to know what you plan to do about it.

Yours sincerely,
Rebekka Power

Monday, July 14, 2008

I was going to write something terribly profound

Only I went out to get some lunch and forgot completely what it was.

Oh well.

We went for a walk (or actually a tram ride) up to the op shop, to see if they had a queen-sized doona cover as our white one has two massive holes in it. I've only had it nearly 15 years, the youth of today, I don't know, insert other old-people whinges here, etc.

The op shop didn't had not one queen-sized anything. Gah. I like white, for sheets etc, as that way when one thing wears out you can just replace it without getting a whole nother set. Much more thrifty. I will keep looking in other op shops.

Now I am trying to do work, but my internet is unbearably slow.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Hardware II: The saga continues

So, I went back to the hardware shop to collect my paint (now red-ish, rather than pink), and to get some felt stuff that you put round the windows and it stops the drafts. Of course they had run out of the felt stuff, although at least Mr Macho Moustache had made my paint approx the right colour.

My PU#2 came round during the afternoon and put a new window winder on the kitchen window for me. It is now only sub-Arctic, with permafrost, in the kitchen/home office, rather than totally arctic, with great hulking mounds of ice. I am typing without my fingerless gloves on, and I can still feel my fingers. This is a GRATE IMPROVEMENT.

So I decided I'd finish off the insulating job by putting the felt stuff round all the cracks, stuffing the ventilation hole up with bits of bubblewrap, and taping the exhaust fan shut from outside (it doesn't work anyway, and the PU is lined up to put a new one with a self-covering cover thingy on). Anyway, it's all done other than the felt, which will be done on Thursday when the hardware shop again has some in. I swear to Hestia, goddess of home improvement, that hardware shop is the most hopeless hardware shop on the face of the earth. My friend Helen used to call Bunnings a rude word, but seriously, they can not be worse than Mr Macho Mustache and his funky bunch of people who never have anything in that I need. Did I mention they've also run out of the white pens you use to repaint the grout after you paint the tiles with the tile paint? Gah.

On a positive note, however, I did just take a loaf of sourdough bread out of the oven, and it smells AMAZING. I think it might be the best one yet. I also just worked out that the bread costs 55 cents a loaf to make, including feeding the sourdough starter. That is a total bargain for a delicious sourdough loaf. I am the queen of thrifty. Oh yes I am.

Friday, July 11, 2008

Hardware

I think I've blogged before about how the guys in the local hardware shop hav no respect for me BECAUSE I AM A GURL.

But for those who came in late, every time I go in there, if one of the guys is serving, men who come in after me get served before me. They clearly assume that I am going to (a) have no idea what I'm looking for, and (b) and going to dither in a female manner, thereby holding up the serious male customers who need POWER TOOLS, STAT.

I got so sick of it about six months ago that I was ready to call them on it - particularly one middle-aged bloke with a manly moustache who'd say as I came in and a guy walked in behind me, "I'll just look after this gentleman first, I'll be right with you". The guy would then take approx eleventy-three minutes making up his mind about what sort of washers he wanted to put in every tap in his house, while I stood there seething because I knew exactly what I needed and why, oh why, did he have to serve the bloke before me when I was there first?


Anyway, I went in today because they finally had the tile paint I ordered about four months ago - the concept of it coming in different colours seemed a tad too difficult for them to deal with, so it took some time to get the base that can be tinted red. The idea is that I can paint over the hideous grey tiles with 80s motif that form the splashback in our kitchen with cherry red paint, which will look grouse and (along with the yellow feature wall and my funky 70s orange light shade) brighten up the kitchen/home office from whence I am currently working.




So I go in there to pick it up. After dithering around fetching the paint from somewhere out the back, Mr Macho Moustache pulls out the colour leaflet so I can pick the colour I want. Which more or less looks like this:


Colour of cherries, non?


It takes him AGES to tint the paint, while I stand there going 'la la la'. Eventually he comes back and starts to ring everything through the cash register. While doing this, he ever-so-casually mentions, "Oh by the way, it turned out just a tiny bit lighter than the colour you picked" (different range of paints from the range I picked the colour from, because they "don't do" White Knight colours).


I said "Define tiny bit".

"Oh, just a couple of shades", says Mr Macho Moustache.

"I think I'd better have a look at it", says I.


He took me back to the paint mixing area and opened the can. No shit, it was HOT PINK:


NOT the colour of cherries.


This is not A TINY BIT LIGHTER. This is a WHOLE NOTHER COLOUR!


Dude, just because I am A GURL does not mean I want fucking PINK PAINT.


So he says he'll fix it, but I have to COME BACK TOMORROW MORNING.


No respeck.

Wednesday, July 09, 2008

Electrickery account

We got an electricity bill yesterday. Despite my best efforts, we have not used less electricity than on our previous bill. In fact, our bill was 19 cents more than the previous bill!

Mind you, I have been working from home most of the past month, which must be using a tad more, and we have had the heater on during the cold evenings (it's gas, but it does have an electric fan).

I have unplugged the clock radio in the bedroom though, and have been extra-diligent about turning all our vampiric appliances off at the switch.

Because it's 100% wind power, we have saved 1.1266 tonnes of greenhouse gas emissions during the last three months. But we're using 4.5 kWh a day, which seems excessive! Although I do note that using Origin Energy's solar calculator, we'd actually generate more power than we need if we got a 1kw solar system (and because the Victorian Govt is now paying a "feed in tariff" for energy put back into the grid from home systems, we'd be making money!)

Actually, I just did some calculations. A 1 kw system costs $3,975 (fully installed). Assuming our energy use and production would be uniform year round (clearly they wouldn't be, but for the purposes of calculation), we'd make $219 a year by selling the excess energy we produced at 60 cents for every unused kilowatt hour of power, and we'd save $385 each year not paying for electricity (that's the electricity-only component of our bill, not including the service charge). This makes the payback period only 6.5 years - and I think it would actually be less, because we use less electricity in summer, and we'd be producing more, and it sells for 60 cents a kilowatt hour whereas it only costs 20 cents a kilowatt hour to buy. Correct me if I'm wrong - maths not my strong point!

But anyway, that was a digression! We already have almost all CFL lightbulbs (there are still a couple of lamps that hardly get used, the bedroom light where we can't use a CFL and one light in the hallway that I literally can't reach that have conventional lightglobes). We turn everything off at the switch other than the fridge and the alarm clock (which I do turn off over the weekend!), we're very diligent about turning lights off as we leave the room, we don't use any electric heating, we don't have air con, we have a normal old telly, not an energy-guzzling plasma or anything, we have a laptop not a desktop, we don't leave chargers plugged in, we only boil as much water as we need in the electric kettle, we don't have electric blankets, and our hot water is gas.

Any suggestions about how we can save more energy (that don't involve turning off the fridge)?

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

Amazing offer - I wish I lived in NSW

Well, actually I don't, because I love Melbourne.

But if you *do* live in NSW, you can get a free solar hot water system. Now that's a brilliant offer, and one I'd definitely be taking advantage of. If I lived in NSW.

Why doesn't someone do this in Victoria??

Still, our apartments have shared gas hot water. I'm thinking of suggesting to my fellow residents (at our next body corporate meeting) that we should install a Chilli Pepper water thingy, which recycles the cold water while you wait for the water to get hot, by recirculating what would be wasted water back through existing pipes. Clever, huh? It should save quite a bit of water.

It's almost lunch time, and I'm going to go for a little walk. First, I'm going to go down to the car shop, which sells LED replacement bulbs for cars - the bulb in my bedside light (a funky seventies folding number that I found at a trash and treasure sale in Canberra - it's the same as a brown one I had as a kid, only white. Also when I was a kid I had a fantastic orange clock, where the numbers flipped over - it went spectacularly wrong and started saying it was all sorts of non-existent times) uses some sort of auto light bulb, and if I could get an LED one instead, it would use less energy. I'm also hoping to replace the candle bulb in the teasmade, only I can't get the damn thing out, and I'm scared of breaking it by pulling too hard. I keep meaning to aks my PU#2, only I forget when he's here. Anyway, once I've managed to get it out, I will buy a new one from Todae, and also an LED replacement for our fan light, in which we can't use a CFL because the dimmer switch makes it flicker (and possible explode) and which won't fit a dimmable CFL in (much to my disgust since I bought a screw fitting one specially, and can't use it, and our other dimmable lights are bayonet fittings, gah).

Anyway. If that doesn't take too long, I'm also going to pop past the op shop, to see if they have any biscuit trays, slice pans or assorted other kitcheny things.

Update: No kitcheny things, but FINGERLESS GLOVES! I am now 80% less likely to get frostbite while working in my kitchen.

Saturday, July 05, 2008

Best.Biscuits.Evah.

I just made peanut butter biscuits. Oh.My.God.

Preheat oven to 160C

½ cup brown sugar
½ cup caster sugar
½ cup melted butter
½ cup peanut butter
1 egg
1½ cups self-raising flour
1 teaspoon vanilla

Mix the egg, sugars and melted butter together. Add the vanilla essence and peanut butter, then gradually add the flour. It'll be kinda crumbly, roll it into smallish balls in your hands. Put on a lined baking tray, squish slightly with a fork.

Bake for about 15 mins - I turned the trays around three times because otherwise (in my dodgy old oven at least) they cook more in some spots than others. So totally delicious hot. Don't know how they taste cold yet.

Would go really well with vanilla ice cream when hot, anyway.

Mixture makes about eleventy-three biscuits. I can never be bothered cooking two tranches, so I usually roll the rest of the mix up into sausage shapes, cover in foil, stick in a snap-lock bag and chuck it in the freezer. When you want a second lot, remove from freezer, leave for about 20 mins, then slice onto baking trays and bake (times may vary, be wary!)

At the moment I have peanut butter mix and white choc chip and almond mix in the freezer.

Friday, July 04, 2008

We will fight them on the beaches, we will fight them at the VCAT

McDonalds wants to build a "convenience restaurant" (i.e. a 24 hour drive-through) on the vacant block two doors down from us. Needless to say, we're not very happy about this (although there is some internal dissent in our household regarding the convenience of being able to purchase a quarter pounder if one wakes up hungry in the middle of the night).

We duly registered an objection, but the local council did not make a decision within 60 days, so the matter has gone to VCAT. In my opinion, this is a deliberate ploy on the part of the council. We have an election coming up in November, and they clearly don't want to be blamed (either way) for making a decision. So it's easier to let the 60 days lapse and then blame VCAT for the badness (I am picturing our councillors holding their hands up like footballers demonstrating to the umpire that they never laid a hand on the guy they just walloped while his back was turned).

The council got nearly 700 objections - apparently not enough to decide that community sentiment was agin the whole idea and they should (as our elected representatives) just quash the whole idea.

Anyway, there was a community consultative forum last night, where we the objectors got to interrogate both our elected representatives and McDonalds' spokesweasels. Weasels by name, weasels by nature.

They kept popping out of their seats, like those rats in the arcade game that you hit with a mallet, and saying things like "Further to what he just stated", and "McDonalds has a robust corporate environmental plan". The male weasel suggested that they cared "just as much" about our local community as the residents did (this earned hissing and catcalls from the audience).

I made the male weasel sit down and shut up. I got up to aks my question, after he'd spent some time explaining to a poor girl whose bedroom window will be directly above the "restaurant" (and I use the word in its loosest possible sense) that she didn't need to be worried about the noise, malodourous waftings of fried vegetable oil and constant light from the golden arses coming in her bedroom window because "McDonalds comply with all applicable EPA regulations".

I got up and aksed him whether he'd like to live next door to a drive-through, and put up with the light, the smells and the noise. He reiterated about the "complies with all applicable EPA blah blah". That's not what I aksed, I said. Answer the question, I said. Would you want to live next door to this?

He just sat down and shut up. He has no answer.

Also, everyone clapped.

This morning I faxed our "Form B" to the council and McDonalds' lawyers, and sent it to VCAT. I've said I want to make a ten minute statement to the tribunal. I think I can be very persuasive in ten minutes.

Thursday, July 03, 2008

My PU#2

My sibling unit just called me to tell me he had called our PU#2's mobile and it was answered by the Bendigo station lost property people.

(In case you haven't worked it out by now, we refer to our parents as our parental units. It's from the movie Coneheads. Yes, we are strange).

Anyway, this is typical of my second parental unit. He leaves a scattered trail of objects behind him, perhaps because he fears that like Hansel and Gretel he will lose his way and need a trail to follow.

Phones, wallets and glasses are his breadcrumbs of choice. He's very kind, and when he comes to help me with something (illegal wiring, plumbing, catching of large spidies etc) he often (a) has to drive home twice because he has forgotten his glasses and an essential tool and (b) leaves behind his glasses and assorted spirit levels, wrenches etc.

Generally people are very honest, and try to track him down to return his wallet/glasses/laptop computer/mobile phone. It's a good argument for labelling everything you own with your name and address really. True story - my PUs were burgled a few years ago, and all the stuff was recovered because the thief tried to sell their classical CDs to a pawn broker, who noticed the labels with their name and address on them, and called them.

Anyway, we don't know where the PU is currently, but he's probably looking for his mobile phone. Luckily we know where it is. And if anyone wants to talk to the staff at Bendigo station, I can tell you the number to get them on.

The eating continues apace

It's all about food around here at the moment, albeit decidedly non-paleolithic food. (Note to self: must get back on the wagon with diet that does not cause constant itching).

As I write, I am eating purple porridge. It is, if I say so myself, exceeding tasty, but it does contain both milk and gluten.

However, purple is good for you. Purple foods are really high in flavanoids, help prevent heart disease, cancer, urinary tract infections and may help to stop you putting on weight. One of the things about diet that I think we ignore (to our detriment) is the idea of variety. Hunter-gatherers eat more than 30 different foods each day (small amounts, clearly, not like "1 warthog, 1 ostrich egg, 30kg dandelion leaves, etc") - we're mostly lucky to get to 20. And that's with making an effort to get a variety!

Counting beverages helps. Yesterday I ate egg, pear, beef, tomato, lettuce, onion, potato, bread, tea, green tea, coffee, chicken, lime, salt, pepper, tumeric, cayenne, garlic, butter, macadamia oil, mixed leaf lettuce (probably five different sorts of leaves?) yellow capsicum, avocado, olive oil, mustard, herbs de provence, beetroot. That's 31! Not including the cookies I baked, which adds at least almonds and white chocolate to the mix. Oh, and pavlova with cream and strawberries. Crap. Must.Stop.Eating.Wheat.And.Dairy. But what can you do? When one's aunt comes over and brings pavlova, it would be rude not to eat it.

Here's what you do for the porridge anyway: Use a mug to measure one measure of oats, one and a half measures of milk and one measure of water into a saucepan. Add a pinch of salt. Heat over a lowish flame until it starts to warm up. Add some frozen blueberries. Stir until it boils. It should be thick - remove from heat and eat with brown sugar. Mmm. Hugo has banana on his.

Delicious. The cat also seems to think so - she has jumped up on the desk and is trying to get her snout into my bowl!

I'm making a second batch of sourdough bread, we have left-over roast chicken from last night that will make a tasty chicken pie today (with carrots and leeks) and stock from the bones.

Kitty is now licking the porridge bowl.