Our Saturday began with a lovely sleep in, a stroll and great coffee and toast from our new haunt. I bought the paper on the way home and read the first section of it, the Sydney Morning Herald is huge so I like to attack it one section at a time, and after each section I generally need a break.
The Saturday had started well, then we decided to go to the shops to get groceries, window shop (e.g. look at things in fancy shops that we can’t afford). The problems began on the way there, the traffic was hideous due to the nearby markets, and also that it was perfect beach weather. The hubby got so frustrated he debated turning the car around, but I was able to calm him and we kept going. Retrospectively I wish I had said nothing and that we had turned around. The shops were fine, but I was over the window-shopping pretty quickly, we were looking in a lot of electronic shops and I was dragging along my lime green granny trolley, so I kept bashing into things. We were however looking for headphones for me to use Skype, so I was in no position to complain.
We got to the groceries in the end and things were looking up, we had found a Woolworth’s so I was back in my element. All the products I used to get in Perth were there, the prices were cheaper than Coles, and I knew where everything was, the only difference was that the range was much bigger, which was, well fantastic! (Yes, that’s me, getting excited about grocery shopping!)
Baah booww…the joy did not last for long. We lost the car. Well, we didn’t lose the car, we just forgot where we parked it, which was somewhere under possibly the biggest Westfield shopping centre in the Southern Hemisphere. It was ok though as he had a plan, I was to stand with the trolley whilst he scoured the floor where we thought we had parked. See, they have these little codes, but we had forgotten ours a little bit, kinda half forgotten, and there were no distinguishing features about the car park. As in, I thought ‘Hang on a tic, I remember that corner and that sign, but hang on a tic there is another one just like it, and another, and another. Holy Potato everything down here looks the same!’ We did eventually find the car, but not before the husband had scoured 2 levels of the car park.
When we finally got out of the car park, we were side swiped by a taxi, who decided to mount a curb so that he could gain one car length on us. (Shall we bake a cake and write “Was it worth it?” on it for you Mr Taxi Driver?) After he scratched the side of the car he proceeded to drive away, no swapping of details or anything. Lucky I am the bag lady and carry notebooks and pens with me. We spent the rest of the afternoon feeling decidedly sorry for ourselves and our poor little car, and then we made police reports called the taxi company etc etc.
The car scenario was the real low point. I made a roast for dinner which would have been great except I am used to a cool oven requiring a very long cooking time, and the one we have now is much hotter, hence I over cooked the roast. There is nothing I hate more than over cooked meat, that dry texture is horrible. Hubby loved it, though he may just have been saying that to cheer me up.
Sunday was much better, though we both still felt a bit out of sorts due to our run in with the crazy that is, the Sydney Taxi Driver. It involved completing the enormous read of the paper and the movies. We saw a strange one called Children of Men, a great film filled with action and emotion. Check it out.