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PAYTON L. INKLETTER


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Saturday, January 17, 2009

MERINO: Writer Payton L. Inkletter vows to never have the wool pulled over his eyes


In other news…

03rd-04th January 2009:



Saturday: Don’t tell me it’s Sarrerdi! Alright then, you can, coz it is, and that’s good, another week’s bit the dust almost. I couldn’t sleep beyond half six a.m., so I arose, and took some photos of Payton the k-bear around the yellow love bug out the front in the glow of the early morning sunlight, as well as a number out the back among the new bamboo shoots, including with Baby Inkletter the k-bear.



The remainder of the morning was spent alternating between computer jobs and watering outside, as well as a trip to the local Dewson’s (IGA) for several 12 packs of their UHT Harvey Fresh milk sposhull (special), the best we’d seen in over a year perhaps. Poor Missus Inkletter flipped out the other day when I revealed to her that the Coles powdered milk ‘full cream’ packets she bought ages back, and which we are still using, has soy in it, and wants now to only use what’s left in cooking. Neither of us can understand the ethics of the folk who can market products which clearly mislead the consumer, nor the regulators who allow it in the first place. Ages back Janny bought up on a stack of ‘[you’ll love Coles] Instant Full Cream Milk Powder’ in one kilogram packets, and some time later I noticed that the ingredients, in tiny print on the back, include soy lecithin. I kept this sad news – that we hadn’t mortgaged our house to stock up at Coles on pure cows’ milk at all – from Janny, knowing she’d be upset if and when she found out, yet marvelled that she could not taste the gunk, as I could.



When some weeks back she said she was looking out to stock up on it again, I cryptically said she should let me look into Woolies and the other brands first. Well, the Dewson’s UHT deal brought it up in stark relief, and I divulged the Coles ‘deception’, and voila, suddenly she won’t drink it. Anyway, back to the ethics bit: I wish the bastards who scheme to flog their products as something they’re not wouldn’t do it, and I would prefer that Coles not call their milk powder ‘full cream milk’, for what normal person would not assume that meant only normal cows’ milk? Why not place in prominent letters on the FRONT something like ‘with soy’, so the poor mug consumer knew immediately the nature of the product? Truth in Marketing, or some such…



Again I watched the midday bad news, mainly the Gaza situation, while Missus Inkletter gave me a tasty brunch. She later took Pa pree shopping for four hours, and I spent a fair bit of time tweaking one of the lyrics widgets, the Emmylou Harris one, on my main blog page (this one), and also visited Steorn’s main and forum sites to catch up on developments (if there are any they’re not sharing them!), before hitting the sack for a badly needed nap very tired and headachy. Another hot day, high thirties Celsius, but the bamboo (those stands getting enough water) doesn’t mind.



I arose when Janny woke me just before My Beloved, and we three (Pa pree was here) watched it. I couldn’t eat, and felt so weary and headachy. I had to head back to bed soon after to sleep some more, with the help of more white comforters. I woke about midnight, feeling weak, weary, headachy, and in general a hundred years old, but stayed up, resorting to more white comforters. I gradually woke up while watching some of Patch Adams on free to air with Janny, before reviving enough to force myself to go for a walk, my only real exercise daily, if one discounts the hours of sexual workouts Janny forces me to deliver for her benefit most days.



I enjoyed the walk, both physically and psychologically. I really like the peace and softness of the night in our suburb, the gentle light, the temperature relief, everything; well, excepting the hoons who now and then choose to menace a lone pedestrian from their big tough cars, and things along those lines.



On my return I sent an email to Gladys Hobson as I had done beforehand to Baby Inkletter, and ate my ‘evening’ meal prepared hours ago by Janny while reading the paper. Poor Janny got up for a ‘wee’ hours tinkle and had a leg cramp, so I spent some time attending to her needs until it subsided. The sun was up by this time.

Sunday: Continuing the waking hours account from yesterday, as lately my out of kilter daily cycle is reeling from more out of kilter inducing blows, I attended to the maintenance gardening jobs in the backyard, before braving getting onto the roof in a quickly heating up day, and beginning the dreaded gutter cleaning.



The gutters have a build up of bamboo leaves mainly, and as I cleared sections I put in plastic gutter guard; what good it will really do I’m not sure. What I do know is that the design of roofing and gutters is abominable here in Australia, with the water drainage systems for rooves completely inadequate to both the task and the environment here. These systems are terribly high and difficult maintenance, and predispose in the extreme our houses to both flooding and water stain damage from the blocking of gutters and their uselessly designed downpipes, and to fire from the build up of flammable material in them.



I could only manage less than an hour all up, for it was so hot and difficult, not to mention the risk I take trying to get down using the low A-frame aluminium ladder. I need a much better longer ladder.



Instead of getting to bed I continued doing things inside and out, and Janny fed me a brunch again of crackers with statues of little baby cheeses and pickles and olives and what not, so I found that hard to resist. After doing a long pooter Librivox files tidying up, I finally hit the sack for five hours, surfacing about half nine p.m.



And I felt terrible, needing white comforters to quell the headache pain, and gradually over a couple of hours felt a bit better. I fell asleep watching Compass, even though I wanted to see it, and then revived to enjoy an old episode of The Wedge.



Janny tempted me again with tucker, and rather than the main meal she made earlier, she made me toasted sandwiches and then homemade plum jam on sultana bread toast, four whole slices of it, so I was a goner. Also, evidence if it be ever needed that I am the victim of subtle domestic violence, being spoilt to death.



I was too weary to contemplate walking, although I really wanted to. Then I got interested in a late movie ‘Corky Romano’ on free-to-air, and while missing the beginning section, enjoyed it to the end, with Missus Inkletter catching at least the last half with me. I found it very funny.



Eventually I hit the sack as tired as all get out.

+paytontedwithlove+

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