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Saturday, November 13, 2010

PLAINSBORO: "Walk her Gordon," PLInkletter called, "or you'll have Elsie in a dizzy spin. You'll do Lobelia! We'll have you milked in but 12 minutes."

Be all that as it may, meanwhile:
'In other news…'
13th November 2010

Saturday: I phoned Luke from Kambo's who we had met on Thursday, and I purchased by phone the 700 litre Westinghouse fridge-freezer we had looked at. Our faithful Kelvinator 390, over twenty years old, is so bursting at the seams all the time with what we need to keep in it, that we've finally said enough is enough, and it will be retired to The Dear Leader, for whom it will be a doubling of size.

Luke treated me very well, for which I am grateful. Delivery will be on Thursday, and I will almost have to dismantle our house to get it through the front door (I am not joking: the bright sparks who designed this house – it's only 24 years old – made a ridiculously narrow front and and back door width, and in their wisdom made sure the front opening was further compromised with a jutting piece of wall, such that anything like a recliner chair has to be magically shrunk to get around the corner into the lounge. I have often fantasised about getting the designer and gently pushing his or her head through a miniature basketball hoop, while giving the genius a twist and a bend.)

Late in the day I dug up some more of my absurdly small potato crop from under the outside sink, and juiced the smallest ones, and, wait for it, drank the couple of mouthfuls of juice; it is not going to take the soft drink market by storm, but it could have been worse. My first ever try of potato juice, and I'm still alive six hours later to write about it.

Meanwhile, the spinning tail was at her annual wind-up Spinning Guild day long meet in Dianella, winning the Christmas hamper, and being told no-one nicer could have won it, as well as having a great time, spoiling the ladies with her home cooking, including the wickedest cranberry and brandy chocolate balls.

Oh, great to see Stephen Long back with Leigh Sales last night on Lateline.


Gladys Hobson said...

Potato juice? Doesn't that make powerful alcohol? Seem to recall a fermentation still in one of those prisoner-of-war films — or some such. (Venty Still? — now is your book about an illicit booze trade that's turning throw-away small spuds into knockout liquor? Ruining the brains of addicted elite politicians, and preparing the way for Fools Paradise to run Australia?
Leigh Sales interviewing Payton L Inkletter on Lateline?

Payton L. Inkletter said...

Gladys: Assuming that you are a seasoned imbiber of potato juice in its fermented state, I'll accede to your superior knowledge.

I like your evodkative use of the ploy of war films as a cover for the still you likely have, down near where the visiting squirrels to the nut feeder in your lawn sing ribald songs and warm their nuts by the little open fire all winter long.

Now what an idea, Leigh Sales interviewing Australia's most loquacious yet erudite koala bear!

Gladys Hobson said...

rarely touch alcohol and eat very little potato — sorry PLInkletter (as you wrote your name on the 8th) but you will have to use your own knowledge of such matters. Ah but I would love to see you seated before Ms Sales. Now would you be able to keep your eyes from her dress and refrain from comment thereon?
Maybe I should contact the said lady and ask her if she knows what goes on in Fools Paradise? Perhaps she could be persuaded to make an old wrinkly's dreams come true by interviewing the one and only PLInkletter?
Mm must get googling to find and a contact address...

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