The Suicide Blender of Death

Housewives Tarot

My regular reader will already know, and commiserate with my family, that I hate to cook. I can cook, but I think too many years where it was part of my job has ruined it as a pleasurable experience for me; in fact - whisper it very gently for you know not who listens - I know lots about it, and am rather good at it when I don't walk away forgetting all about what's simmering on the stove.

But in fact, I am here to declare that I am the Nigel Mansell of kitchen blenders - he didn't become the Formula 1 World Champion until his engineering team managed to build a car that could withstand his abuse assertive style of driving, and I have 3 broken blenders in my immediate past because I haven't had one that can take what I give it.

No, it isn't from dicing up raw mangelwurzels or ignoring the warnings in the booklet and crushing ice for my strawberry daiquiris: I use a blender for smoothies, milkshakes and soups. Well, yes, and the strawberries for the daiquiris, of course.

I know, right ? Just I am super unlucky in having 3 consecutive machines that were obviously not fit for purpose.

Just as well then, that Titch was asked what we would like for Xmas, and I said ' a decent blender'.

the actual model; except with fresh fruit

And Lo ! A blender arrived and all was well and there were many smiles of satisfaction and anticipation. Even more so because it looked like a Ferrari of blenders: friends, according to the label, there is nothing this machine cannot do. It has a bazillion different attachments and fittings, it can grind your coffee beans and blend your soup; it can juice green leafy things and it can chop and mush and ... oh, all kinds of exciting things that I would never ordinarily think of.

So I thought I'd try it out with a nice simple home-made Pea & Ham Soup (that is the actual recipe I used). But without Ham because of veggie Mini Diva.

Yes, I do remember the joke about Kermit and the liquidizer, thank you.

Anyway.

The one startling omission from this amazing piece of machinery equipped with super-sharp blades (2 kinds !) that cut, slice and dice and that do that cutting by whizzing round at faster-than-light speeds is .... an On/Off button.

To operate this equipment, you simply plug it in to the wall socket, and off it goes. As did my heart attack. Luckily the lid was on, so at least I was spared having to clean the ceiling and walls of green paste.

I could not believe it.

I spent quite some time searching through the manual, and the machine itself, searching for the location of the 'Power' button. I even asked the kids to check for me - you never quite know how senility might affect one. What I did find were several repeated warnings on many different pages of the manual about the danger posed to one's fingers by sharp blades. Ya think ??

The chance of random digit mutilation is just not a risk I am happy to take, especially with a Destructo Boy in the house, so I am looking up old-fashioned 'proper' blenders while this one sits abandoned in the shed. I know, but I'm afraid party-pooping is a hazard of getting older, and this is too close to the Raggedy Edge for me.

A Rose by Any Other Name .....

..... does not smell as sweet. Shakespeare was wrong.

I have stolen downstairs in the middle of a wind-tossed winter's night to tell you all about my gift, while polishing off the sad remainder of a box of Turkish Delight ...

DH has spoiled me terribly, and by that I mean he has actually spoiled me far too well, and has been most wickedly extravagant on things that I cannot return to the store. One of the things he gave me, having consulted with Destructo Boy, was a bottle of this:

And oddly enough, the topic of perfume and men's buying of it had just been a topic explored by my Twin Ania both on her blog, and her Facebook page.

After a misspent youth wearing Opium and Obsession, I achieved some subtlety, and grew up into the très très chic scent that is Caleche by Hermes. I have worn nothing but Rose perfume for about the last eleven years or so. Firstly Crabtree & Evelyn's 'Damask Rose', until they stopped making that and replaced it with the somewhat inferior 'Evelyn Rose', which I have continued to use even though I live in the provinces where it is impossible to find; it looks as if it is going down the same forlorn path. I have also used the RHS Rose perfume, which, again, is proving somewhat challenging to find.

My DH and Destructo Boy, knowing all this, went on a mammoth hunt through everywhere they could think of, and the closest thing they could find was this 'Very Irresistible' by Givenchy, which says it uses 5 types of rose in its manufacture. Bless their cotton socks, I love them dearly, and I so wish that I could say that this smells of roses. But it doesn't. It smells like expensive French perfume.

And now, so do I.

WIP Wednesday 46: Ack ! Oh Noes !

So one of DH's BIL's has a birthday this week. I remember in time to knit a rather lovely scarf over a mere 3 days, using RYC Classic Silk Wool DK in the 'Brownstone' colorway; I even find what I think is a really nice stitch pattern - a Lacy ZigZag. I cast off, and the next morning I wash and block it.

I am pleased. It is a nice yarn - smooth, soft, and easy to knit with. The pattern is masculine. The color will suit him (DH chose it). I am in time to get it blocked, wrapped and posted before the weekend.

Go me, sez I. Let's take a photo for Wednesday - it counts as a WIP because I'm in the blocking stage, so it isn't technically completed yet.

Here's the photo:

Do you see what I see ?

No ?

Let me zoom in for you:


And just to reinforce that, zoom again:


Somehow, a stitch has broken. I shall fix it when the scarf is dry. Wednesdays are full of woe ...

But the lovely people over at Tami's Amis will have better news for you ....

RAK Extraordinaire

I have never been the recipient of a rampant act of generosity from anyone other than my immediate family and my oldest friend. Until this weekend, that is, when I received an overwhelmingly kind email from another friend, which was an offer to cover the cost of a safety assessment for my soaps.



This person had made the offer before, but I didn't take it seriously, thinking that they were just being nice. The email I received this weekend was somewhat more insistent this time, and reiterated that it was a no strings gift.

Well, I know the saying about not looking a gift horse in the mouth, and you'd think it would be all too easy to snatch off their arm before they changed their mind. But I didn't.

I didn't because such a large random act of kindness is really not something I've experienced, so I wasn't sure what I thought about it, or possible consequences. I also didn't want to feel under an obligation. Mainly though, I don't think I deserved it.

I have decided to accept this incredibly kind and magnanimous largesse, and thank the Source that I have a friend like this.