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Sunday, 8 April 2007

More money than sense...

I went shopping around Lordship Lane yesterday afternoon, and came away rather puzzled and perplexed...

I saw "free range" lamb for sale! Now how exactly does that work? The butcher at the farmers market on North Cross Road explained to me that the lambs were left "free to roam the field" - as free as they can be left considering the dangers of Mr Fox and the boundaries of the farmer's land, I assume.

Whenever James, the children and myself travel to Wales in Spring, we observe free range lambs jumping and skipping in the fields all the way down the M4. I asked the butcher if the lamb was also organic - he shook his head. He said he had free range, but not necessarily organic. OK, so it is normal everyday type lamb then, is it not? The butcher was less than pleased with my line of questioning.

I then trotted off to the fabulous fish mongers, and noted "organic" cod on display! Now, explain that to me please Mr Fishmonger? I understood that all cod is deep sea caught, and so it would naturally therefor follow that it is free range, and if it is impossible to exert control over it's diet, how can the fish monger be sure it is organic? It could be swimming through radioactive waste and raw sewage for all he is aware. Surely it is as organic as any other cod?

I spent time browsing in "Dr Boo" the super make-up emporium on North Cross Road where the sweet sales assistant described the merits of their new eye brow gel, "which promotes and encourages sparse over plucked brows to grow more profusely" - no, really? For just twenty pounds per ten mil pot!

Now, wouldn't that product make a fortune? A preparation that actually restored hair growth! Thinning men and women throughout the land would beat a path to the manufacturer's door, and buy great 500 ml pots of this product. Talika would surely make a fortune. Mmm...

I remember my father returning from a business trip to France in the mid 1970's, when I was a very young girl. He was an honest man, even tempered and not easily vexed. He was more than annoyed because a waiter had dared to charge him several francs;

"for the privilege of serving plain water from a fizzy drinks bottle. Did he think I had more money than sense?"

I noticed yesterday in a magazine while waiting to have a manicure at Fenwick, that women in the Far East pay to breathe "oxygen shots" to in an effort to improve their energy levels, increase alertness and reduce stress.

Is it just me, or has the world gone mad?

I saved so much money yesterday morning not buying hair restoration products, free range or organic meat and fish, that I went for an impromptu manicure in the afternoon!

5 comments:

antarctichousehusband said...

"Is it just me, or has the world gone mad?"

Dulwichmum, I'm afraid I must be stern. You must never use this phrase again! Next thing you know, you'll be drinking sherry by the gallon and having blue rinses. This sort of talk is strictly mother-in-law territory!

dulwichmum said...

I apologise Mr Antarctichousehusband, I have been lost without you the last few evenings! In the name of God man, where have you been? I enjoy reading your blog...

Babysteps said...

I wonder what would happen if you used the hair restoration goo on the cod?

Some friends actually wanted me to go with them to an oxygen bar last fall. Banker Boy nearly wet himself at the thought of "paying good money for air".

rilly super said...

dulwich mum darling, This 'oxygen bar' phenomenon exists in our own country too you know. There is one in our village where visiting and downshifting Londoners unaccustomed to the country air can breath shots of pure doubledecker bus exhaust to stop them shaking so much from the withdrawl.Good thing they sell life memberships at a large discount or I'd have to sell the house, or one of them anyway

thanks ever so for dropping in earlier and for your very kind addition to your links list. I very much think I shall be around here again so see you then dear.

dulwichmum said...

Dear Babysteps,

Banker Boy really will not stand for any super ficial rot, will he? Please promise never to let him see my blog?

Darling Rilly,

It really is a pleasure to have your company.