Friday, June 20

There's nothing much planned for today.  Our cleaner will be arriving shortly and that's my cue to change the sheets on the bed but, otherwise, it will be stress-free.  We had a call yesterday from a fellow who has been given the job of putting grab rails in our two showers.  We already have the removeable ones you can buy at Bunnings but, apparently, they're not reliable.  However, they've been there for the nearly four years we've been here and haven't let us down yet.  Not that they've ever been used.  Still, what we can do today isn't necessarily what we can do tomorrow,  

As the young lady from Aged Care said, they'll do anything to keep us at home. The full list of recommendations of what we need is out there on the internet and various suppliers will be in contact with us.  I'm not sure who pays what but I'm sure all will be revealed

Today's story was after a challenge to write about something mundane, like a cup of coffee.

I understand that the Flat White coffee was invented in Australia and has become a favourite choice in the US, UK and other places frequented by Aussies.  If this true, it is a cause for national celebration, for the Flat White is an invention to stand alongside the Hills Hoist and the Victa Mower.

The sad thing is, though, that the Flat White is so poorly regarded in its home country.  I would have thought that the defining feature of a Flat White is that it is flat – no froth nor foam, just a warm coffee- and milk-flavoured drink with no frills.  Those of us who now order Flat White are usually escapees from the days when the best you could hope for in a café was a poorly frothed latte.  The introduction of the Flat White was as important an event to us as the arrival of the first cargo of coffee beans to Australia.

Those of us who choose to wear a moustache, and I apologise to my female friends if they think I am being sexist (but you could have a moustache too if you worked hard enough at growing one), are particularly disadvantaged by the café owners’ confusion between a Flat White and a Latte. They are not interchangeable!  There is nothing worse than having the constant reminder of a sub-standard coffee trapped in the hairs on your upper lip.

You might say I should complain to the barista, or send the inappropriately named coffee back.  But I don’t blame the hapless, lowly paid employee. No, I blame the greedy multi-national who owns the coffee shop and is saving money on staff training.   In the meantime, I’ll keep recording the delinquent cafes on my black list and continue to frequent the patriotic little coffee shops where they take pride in their work.