Spring 22

This spring it was announced that recycling of soft plastics was suspended at the supermarkets - the only place soft plastics can be recycled...

To be horrifically honest, this has been a massive relief. Ever since the program was established I have faced the almost daily challenge of trying to follow soft plastic recycling ordinances in order to avoid the guilt of being 0.0000000125% responsible for destroying the planet. I've rinsed out frozen fruit packages. I've peeled off the unrecyclable packing tape attached to recyclable plastic packing material. I've collected up empty Zooper Doopers tubes. I've gone back and checked with people about the brand of cling wrap they used. At one point I set up a separate little container for milk lids and a second one for bread tags. I've saved and wrapped up the fraction of Zooper Dooper tops where I cut them off.

I feel like I did everything that could reasonably be expected of me, a human being, so that every microplastic particle in my life could be dumped in a bucket at Woolworths, driven across a continent, stored in a warehouse with a bunch of other bags of plastic and contaminants, shipped across a hemisphere, and then almost definitely maybe perhaps not be thrown in an incinerator.

Now, every time I consume something that comes packaged in plastic I throw the plastic in the bin with the rest of the trash. I don't have to think about it after that for a single second. I simply go on with my life. It may sound like I've given up, and that's because I have. It's just nice after the spring I've had to know you can do all the right things and then give up when it doesn't work out.

Anyway now that it's December here's my spring playlist. Short and underwhelming like the actual season. But some memory triggers for a weekend in Encounter Bay, a walk around Canberra, a book, a hangover, some moments of optimism, and so many no stress garbage experiences.

If you like Bradism, you'll probably enjoy my stories. You can click a cover below and support me by buying one of my books from Amazon.

The woman with the fake tan stepped into my office, sat across from my desk and lit a cigarette.
At least, she would, sometime in the next 20 minutes. Smelling the future has advantages, but precision isn’t one of them.


Only a few cars in the line up for a PCR at Adelaide's primary COVID Testing site today.

December Continues

December has continued since last Friday, with some time on the bench and alternating my wrist brace between arms.

Also, according to my camera...

There were a lot of green stones on the beach.

Annual advent calendar has kicked off.

Played some lawn Yahtzee

Started a pub under my mulberry tree for all the local birds.

Nash got a new squeaky

Nash came to the beach for an ice-cream

Went to the beach again without Nash

Hiked to Long Gully for breakfast

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Neutral Grip

Some photos I edited today with my new Xbox controller.

The Most Abhorrent Meal of the Day

If the 450 word eulogy I posted a year ago for my blender didn't make it obvious to me that I loved it, absence has most definitely made the heart grow fonder. Paying $550 for a new blender must in part have been an over-compensation for the grief I was feeling. What sane person would make a choice like that? What features beyond turning ice and food into a delicious breakfast must a blender offer to justify its price. Only the people who purchase 24 packs of croissants in bulk might know the answer (as in, multiple 24 packs...)

The Vitamix Explorian E320, like most of 2022, did not meet my expectations. It turned ingredients and ice into watery ingredients and crushed up ice. It had a two litre jug all right, but the blended contents never reached the top. I had an eleven year long baseline to compare it with. Before 2022 I would get two and a half milkshake cups worth of lush, gossamer, silky smoothie. It would take me twenty minutes to drink. I could place a plastic spoon on the surface and it would float there. Yes, most of the cup was air but it was delicious, refreshing air.

Initially I thought there was just a learning curve. A good breakfast-person never blames their tools after all. At some point, with the Breville over the horizon, it was clear that things were not going to improve. Is not the definition of insanity to repeatedly put 225ml of skim milk, 20g of protein powder, a banana, some berries, and 200g of low fat yogurt in a blender with 27 ice cubes and expect different results? I tried increasing the milk, decreasing it. Increasing the ice, decreasing it. Increasing the yogurt, increasing that even more. I couldn't understand why a recipe that hadn't changed in over a decade (well, barely...) could fail over and over again.

I blamed myself. After watching those expensive blades every morning whip the the jug's contents up and up only for breakfast to sink down after each blending was depressing. The house would shake, I'd stop the motor and I'd be left with goop. Where was my creamy refreshment? Where was the SPOILER: smoother mouth feel?

I was aging. I was declining. Maybe my life to this point had been a balance of mostly lucky breaks, and now the symmetry of the odds were rearing their head. I was going to be doomed for the rest of my life to make bad decisions and drink disappointing smoothies.

A few weeks ago I thought to myself maybe it was time to stop drinking smoothies for breakfast. I could eat cereal again. Maybe toast, or just a black coffee and a single, boiled egg from a collection I kept in some Tupperware that I would refill, unsmiling, every Sunday. At least I'd get a journal entry out of it.

I could tell when I'd hit rock bottom.
At that point I decided that I didn't care that this stupid Vitamix had cost me over half a fucking grand. I was going to buy another Breville. I bought the Breville Boss. It was only $240. I plugged it in and made a smoothie with it. It did take me a few attempts to return to form. I had to keep reducing the ingredients back to the old levels.

After the first time I made it like I used to I nearly cried.

I'd nearly convinced myself that my self worth wasn't directly tied to how well I made a smoothie. It is, and I make smoothies really well. The Vitamix was not for me. Now every day I get two and a half milkshake cups worth of smoothie for breakfast. Life feels a little less cruel.

Lastly, because I bought the Vitamix from the place that sells 24 packs of croissants in giant trolleys I did have a crack at taking advantage of their "satisfaction guaranteed" refunds policy. Given this entry is a little bit like an advertisement I will garnish it by saying that, unflinchingly, that company was happy to keep their word and after all this adventure they refunded me $550. They only asked why I wasn't satisfied, and I regaled them with the tale above, slightly abridged. They did not ask any follow up questions.

This morning I made yet another perfect smoothie and drank it looking out at the garden. The refund had processed through on my card. 2022 was nearly fucked off into the bin.

Soon I will hopefully just look back at these last twelve months as a horrible mix up.

Merry Christmas 2022

Had to eat the dick cookie before the grown ups arrived.


Woke up at 6am for a second, annual hike up Mount Lofty on one of the only public holidays that you can hope you to get a car park. In fact, with today's forecast top of 38°C there were even more car parks available after we got back down.

We would have arrived slightly earlier, but after a week of rattling coming from the front of the car we finally isolated it to a broken guard under the engine and I spent five minutes gaffing it back together. This wasn't fun as I had to get down on the already warm bitumen twice, but while I was down there I got a glimpse of the cirrococumulus cloud high in the early morning sky and that was pretty.