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thessalianI meant to go out and get some herbs and such at Neal's Yard, but of course, this was one of my spontaneous whims and I didn't bring my herbal with me, so I thought I'd pick up another herbal -- something a little more comprehensive on the infusions / tea side -- and some herbs as I went. But first, I decided, I'd go to Forbidden Planet and pick up Battle Royale 14. Wouldn't take five minutes, I figured, and then I'd probably have time to find a new herbal and some herbs etc and still be able to grab lunch and be back to work on time.
Not really, no. First of all, when I got to FP, they seemed to only have Battle Royale as far as 10. Suckage. However, they did have Walking Dead 4 and, as I found when I decided, "Hell, worth a look", Rising Stars 3. I knew![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dodgyhoodoo was waiting relatively patiently (with outbursts of "MUH!") for Rising Stars' finale, and he was saying just the other day how he'd looked for Walking Dead 4 at Gosh and not found it, and he's not in a great mood today so I thought I'd pick them up. I'm about 2/3 of the way through Rising Stars now; being able to read while walking and still not walk into people / lamp posts / cars / street detritus is a bonus.
Anyway, stopped by Mysteries to try to find a good book on herbs. Not really; apparently the one I picked up a month or so ago was the last of the halfway non-silly herbals they had. All the rest was basically "Ode To Tree By Fluffy Wicca" and homeopathy, which sounds to me like the placebo effect plus squat all. I much prefer Watkins, when all's said and done. At least their stupid Fluffy Wicca or Ol' Black Magic stuff is interspersed by stuff that might actually make sense. Mysteries, on the other hand ... I mean, come on -- "Teen Witch"? Feh on the lot of it.
Of course, by the time I was done trying to rake gold out of the muck in Mysteries, time had got away from me and I just about had time to scoff lunch and only be a few minutes late back to work. And this is despite never having to wait more than two minutes for a bus either way. *sigh* I think there's just not enough time in a lunch hour to get anywhere with actual stuff in it and get anything done. Feh.
And a note to a total stranger:
Dear little old lady in the funny hat,
Do. Not. Touch. Me. I don't care if you did embroidery at school. Stroking the embroidered satin inlay on the part of my skirt stretched across my right knee is not on. It's called personal space; look it up.
Not really, no. First of all, when I got to FP, they seemed to only have Battle Royale as far as 10. Suckage. However, they did have Walking Dead 4 and, as I found when I decided, "Hell, worth a look", Rising Stars 3. I knew
dodgyhoodoo was waiting relatively patiently (with outbursts of "MUH!") for Rising Stars' finale, and he was saying just the other day how he'd looked for Walking Dead 4 at Gosh and not found it, and he's not in a great mood today so I thought I'd pick them up. I'm about 2/3 of the way through Rising Stars now; being able to read while walking and still not walk into people / lamp posts / cars / street detritus is a bonus.Anyway, stopped by Mysteries to try to find a good book on herbs. Not really; apparently the one I picked up a month or so ago was the last of the halfway non-silly herbals they had. All the rest was basically "Ode To Tree By Fluffy Wicca" and homeopathy, which sounds to me like the placebo effect plus squat all. I much prefer Watkins, when all's said and done. At least their stupid Fluffy Wicca or Ol' Black Magic stuff is interspersed by stuff that might actually make sense. Mysteries, on the other hand ... I mean, come on -- "Teen Witch"? Feh on the lot of it.
Of course, by the time I was done trying to rake gold out of the muck in Mysteries, time had got away from me and I just about had time to scoff lunch and only be a few minutes late back to work. And this is despite never having to wait more than two minutes for a bus either way. *sigh* I think there's just not enough time in a lunch hour to get anywhere with actual stuff in it and get anything done. Feh.
And a note to a total stranger:
Dear little old lady in the funny hat,
Do. Not. Touch. Me. I don't care if you did embroidery at school. Stroking the embroidered satin inlay on the part of my skirt stretched across my right knee is not on. It's called personal space; look it up.