Review of the Roborock S5 Max

My cat was losing interest in her toys, so I thought, hey, I’ll get one of those robot vacuums for her. I googled, “Best vacuums for cats to ride on,” but all the results were about sucking up cat hair, not about being a mode of transport. But then it occurred to me, perhaps a vacuum would be a good idea just for cleaning purposes. My floor was filthy, after all. Note I say that in the past tense, as I forgot all about my cat and her needs and bought a Roborock S5 Max, and it’s changed my life! Well, actually, as I write this, I am lying on the couch with my cat on my legs, so perhaps there is no obvious change, but at least it’s changed my flat. I can’t even describe (or rather, won’t) how disgusting it had gotten. It never occurred to me to clean it, though I did occasionally think, if I had read a newspaper article about someone like me, where I was the victim of something and they’d had to break in to my flat and then describe it, I would have no sympathy for that person — that gigantic Boston fern was quite right to topple over and crush her.

Anyway, since someone advised using paragraphs, I will start a new one here and thus now must justify it. I’ve had the robot for a couple weeks and I’ve used it almost every day. It forced me to pick up a lot of crap that was hiding in the corners and, to be honest, in the middle of rooms, and when it completed its first mission, and my Persian rugs actually changed colour — it was like in the Wizard of Oz when Dorothy goes from sepia to HDR — I just stared and then toppled over, despite the fern being nowhere near, and it was OK, as the floor was perfectly clean. My cat also decided to topple over, and we luxuriated in a floor that we could eat on, but from now on, wouldn’t — apart from Noir, of course, but her food is at least in a dish. And if it isn’t, the robot gets it.

I am also getting more exercise, as every day, I must carry a heavy mirror that leans against the wall to one room or the other, so that the robot can clean there. And an old desktop computer, minus the desk, which I’m beginning to think I should recycle, as it hasn’t worked in several years. These are things that the robot is allowing me to contemplate.

My point in writing this is, if you are a disorganised slob like me, a robot vacuum will help! I now feel myself to be a respectable person — apart from the spare bedroom, which the robot has not yet entered. I keep the door to it closed. If Noir were a romantic heroine (which I’m sure she feels herself to be, apart from the romance, which both of us can do without), and I were the rich man in gators keeping her imprisoned in my castle, that is the room where I’d be keeping the crazy aunt, who had been witness to my bigamous ways. However, perhaps in contemporary times, the isolated aunt sends missives to the Financial Times from the living room couch, where her testimony is restricted to household appliance recommendations, and her ability to escape, by a cat.

As I write this, I’m comforted in thinking that my nephew does not read the FT. And that while the Room that None May Enter may no longer be a route to gothic adventure, it could be handy to put the mirror there. And maybe that old computer.

Review of Philips 3000i AC3030/33 Air Purifier

Maybe I shouldn’t admit this, as you’ll wonder what it smelled like before, but now when I come home, the air smells fresh, like the outdoors (not the outdoors here in Leith, albeit). One could almost forget I had a cat! She’s giving me the stink-eye for writing that, of course, but at least her litter is giving no stink at all. I shall still change it, though.

The purifier was easy to set up (two or three minutes) and the iOS app connected immediately to my wifi.

At first, I panicked as the gas reading told me to sort out my affairs and tell my cat I loved her, but eventually, it went down to normal.

I run it on auto mode and it is very quiet. When I opened the window closest to it, the PM2.5 levels crawled up, so now I keep that one shut.

This morning, though, it was like being back in LA. I was grilling halloumi in the kitchen — the purifier is quite a ways away in the living area, but it’s open-plan — when the app flashed an alert: close all windows now and turn on turbo mode! The PM2.5 levels went up to 500, which must be its max reading, as that’s where it stopped and enjoyed a breather. It took about an hour for the levels to go down to normal. It does make me wonder what became of all the other halloumi particulates from my past. It is best, though, not to ask too deeply about a lady’s past.

I am now afraid to grill anything. When I do, I’ll move it to the bedroom and let it criticise me there. The instructions say not to use this in the kitchen, so I will have to research whether that amount of exposure will kill the machine (better me than it).

Anyway, to conclude, Noir and I can breathe easily! It is a pity, of course,
that clean air has become a commodity one has to buy, but that is one of those things best left unthunk.

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Review of John Lewis Jersey Wide Leg Trousers (eco fabric) →

This is the third pair I’ve bought,  so if I were a Silicon Valley tech titan, journalists would probably be saying, “She’s just like Steve Jobs, except instead of turtlenecks, she wears wide-legged trousers!”  (They’d actually say pants, but when I gained UK citizenship, I had to promise to stop saying that, except for certain situations that never arise anymore.) They’d focus on my clothes instead of my advanced technical jargon, because even in the safe space of John Lewis reviews, I know I wouldn’t make any sense.  Thankfully, when you’re a titan, banks and media are too polite to point such things out.

Then, after the FBI arrested me for fraud and misuse of orphans, they’d say, “She’s just like Elizabeth Holmes, except instead of turtlenecks, she wears wide-legged trousers!”  (How was I to know my subcontractor used orphans as fuel?  I hate opening the post.  Don’t they know that?  No!  Because journalists were so obsessed with my wide-legged trousers, they didn’t notice all the unopened post from Bangladesh.)

I may not be a tech titan, but I have no charisma and therefore can be trusted.  These trousers really are “as comfortable as pyjamas.”  Do they also make a “sleek style statement?”  Probably, but I’m so short, I can’t really see anything but the top of my head in the mirror at work, and that’s when I’m jumping.

I really like the thickness and feel of the material, and as long as one doesn’t spill bleach on them (the reason I have three pairs instead of two), they keep like new.

My only problem -- that you'll ever know about, anyway -- is that because I am short, I have to hike the waist right up to below my bosom.  I could hem them, yes, or I could just think of myself as a Georgian lady (as opposed to a Geordie Shore lady, at least until John Lewis starts offering lip fillers). I know from Jane Austen reenactments that they were too lazy to hem their clothes, too.

The fact that I can wear them right below my bosom all day, and that they still look good (nobody’s said anything, anyway), shows that they do indeed boast “lasting performance.”  I wear long shirts over them, also from John Lewis, and so my figure is probably more of a sleek rectangle than a figure eight, but that's OK.  I’m no good with numbers.  And that’s why you know I really am not a Silicon Valley tech titan.  I live in Leith.