Salad Tuesday

Tuesday is supposed to be sushi day. That’s every Tuesday not just some randomly selected annual date. Every Tuesday morning I go to the fresh lunch stand in Waitrose and I get myself a Fuji Sushi box for my lunch. Well, normally I do.

Imagine my distress when I turned up this morning to find no sushi in the display. Obviously I was pretty devastated. Imagine then my relief when I spotted a Waitrose staff member hurrying towards the fresh lunch display with a trolley full of green plastic containers full of fresh lunch fare. (I have to admit that I assumed there was sushi in one of them.)

It was simple, I thought. I would go and do all my other shopping and return for the sushi. This would give the chap time to unpack and shelve the Japanese food. I even took longer than necessary because I didn’t have that much to buy…apart from sushi.

When I returned I was pretty annoyed to find nothing had been unpacked and the full, green containers were still piled high in front of the display. I looked around for the guy who was until recently, my saviour. And that’s when I saw them. A whole group of managerial type people gathered around the wine department talking earnestly about something that couldn’t have been discussed before the shop opened. And there, fully taking part was the chap I was most annoyed with.

I wasn’t going to wait any longer (I’d already wasted more time that I care to admit standing in the feminine hygiene department because I was fiddling with my Grocery List app and hadn’t realised where I’d stopped) and set off in search of a check out.

Just to add insult to injury, the only check out open was manned by the miserable woman that I can’t stand. No worries, I just went to the counter by the cigarette kiosk. Normally I don’t like the counter because the space isn’t big enough for customers and their groceries. I can only imagine that Waitrose designed the counter area in order to get as much money as possible because it certainly does not help the customers. Still, sometimes one must nail their shoes to the masthead and plunge into the ocean of turmoil with a grimace disguised as cheer.

I then headed for Boots, who also do a sushi lunch but their offering was pathetic so I didn’t bother and ended up having salad for lunch instead. I feel my week is ruined. Really.

To make up for this sad, sad loss, I spent an hour and a half on Skype with mum, hearing all about her trip to NSW and future travelling plans given she now feels that international air travel holds no fears for her. Not that NSW is really international though Queensland is so far behind everywhere else in Australia that it might as well be.

Skype over, I then returned to my weeding in the Crazy Bed before taking the dogs to the park after lunch. (Did I mention I had salad instead of sushi today?) And while there I found this message from the Pixies.

I’m pretty authoritative when it comes to Pixies but even I have no idea what this means. Perhaps some sort of warning or is it for picking up satellite transmissions? I have no idea. Still, it’s bound to be no good if the Pixies had anything to do with it.

On our walk we almost met Scooby a black rescue dog who has a bit of an independent streak. His owner was trying to get him to come back to her but he just kept out of her reach, taunting her. She was not impressed with the game and told us (me and two fluffy little dog walking women) Scooby was a rescue dog and very disobedient. In fact yesterday on their walk, he’d gone and taken up residence on an island in the middle of one of the park’s ponds and her husband had to wade out and retrieve him because he wouldn’t return. Her husband wasn’t best pleased.

Today she eventually managed to get his lead on him and led him, reluctantly away.

We then met a Jack Russell called, unimaginatively Jack. He didn’t stop barking. Emma and Freya just stared at him (Emma somewhat hypocritically) as they cowered between my legs. He had quite a deep bark. I don’t know what he was saying but Freya didn’t like the way the conversation was going and asked me to pick her up. She does this by launching herself at my legs and bouncing a lot. I picked her up.

It was shortly after meeting Jack (and his being led away by his cross owner) that we lost Emma’s manky old tennis ball. She was completely inconsolable. Fortunately she has plenty at home but she doesn’t always think in those sort of terms.

Possibly the best bit of the walk was spotting this primula on the way home.

Pretty little primula

Back at home I prepared the Crazy Bed for some freshly made compost.

Although the day started pretty bad with the Sushi Debacle, things certainly improved.