Did you hear? Some shops and restaurants are trying to ban customers from taking photos while on site.
I sure hope the chainstores don’t try it. I have quite a collection of pix snapped in the fresh veg section of various supermarkets.
Some women like to send their husbands saucy ‘selfies’ of themselves in a state of undress. And let’s not mention the State MP who likes to dip it in a glass of red!
Me? I send my hubby, Mr Bean, shots of onions. No it’s not a euphemism for something else, I mean pictures of real, actual onions. Carrots too.
I didn’t realise how far gone my ‘problem’ was until recently when I cleared our the 5000+ pictures on my mobile phone.
A shockingly large proportion of the pics were of vegetables, closely followed by expensive shoes which I covet and then our children.
Don’t worry, I’m not so veggie obsessed that I need to check in for addiction counseling.
There is method to my madness.
My pictures are all snapped with market research in mind.
I – like many wives – do the family grocery shopping. My husband doesn’t get to the supermarket as much as he’d like.
And I’ve learned not to take him with me because a quick trip through the aisles turns into a half-day event as he grills the poor shop assistants about their cold-chain supply methods, the origin of the onions and the shelf placement of his carrots.
It’s incredible that the stores haven’t called security to ‘Please remove the vegetable nut from Aisle 10’.
So when I do the shopping and I see something in the F&V aisle that might be of interest to Mr Bean I take a photo and text it to him. He shows the guys in the office and often they’ll text back with another pic request.
Price, new packaging, product placement, good quality, bad quality … it’s all up for analysis.
And that’s how my Random Veg Pic Album began.
Over the years it’s broadened to include the product grown by friends and images sent to me by friends and colleagues who think I just might be interested.
Oddly shaped carrots; enormous onions; cool marketing material … that kind of stuff.
In fact it’s a sorry state of affairs that my life’s work may result in being remembered for vegetables.
Forget all the years at university and slaving my way through a journalism cadetship. I will be remembered for my love/hate affair with onions and carrots.
My Twitter feed is full of photographs people have seen and immediately thought of me.
Courting carrots, entwined like lovers; misshapen onions; potatoes with ah-em ‘naughty bits’.
And a growing trend – pix of horrible vegetables backyard friends have tried and failed to produce.
Ha ha, I want to say, not as easy as you think is it?
Of course I don’t. Instead I encourage them to come along to our next Open Day to get some tips from Allium Man.
I often argue with our accountant that a portion of my weekly grocery bill should be tax deductible. I mean does she really think our family wants to eat five pre-packs of onions each week?
It’s just that I have to buy one from each of the stores so we can do the regular Bean Family taste test.
Aroma, texture, consistency, freshness. We slice, dice and dissect what’s on offer … in the eternal race to be at the top of the game.
Sometimes I really like to screw with Mr Bean’s head and I offer him two options – exhibit A and B.
One of these is organic, I tell him. I get great delight when he declares that the organic carrot tastes better than the conventional carrot.
This kind of shenanigans almost constitutes ‘date night’ in our house of veggie nuts.
Hmm, maybe counseling is required.