allconsuming

An open apology

2009-11-05T20:36:00.000+11:00

It has come to my attention that my commenting on other people's blogs has dropped off dramatically.

Stop it.

I know I know.

You missed me. No NO, you didn't have to say anything, I felt your pain.

And look, it is not an excuse just an insight into why my pithy thoughtful comments such as threatening to kill you with a tray have been so lacking.

It's Google Reader.

That's right.

The whole having to click through to your actual websites, then click on the comment button, then make my erudite summations is just.so.taxing.

*snore*

In which I discuss some lady issues

2009-11-04T21:34:00.000+11:00

Oh sure, Badger may have cornered the market on how to handle the flow but I'm here to tell you about how to manage the mood.

For you see, by the time you factored in my pre-menstrual tension, my menstrual-crankiness and my post-menstrual anger Chef and those around me were lucky to score about five days of me being relatively stable and gee, happy.

A lot of that pre-, during- and post- symptoms were greatly lessened even eradicated through the intensive breeding program that has been my life. But over the last couple of months I've noticed it returning to the point that by September I was positively vile to all and sundry. Road raging, angry at the universe, cursing the clothes for not hanging properly, yelling at the kids for yelling at each other or me (so so futile) were Top of the Pops in the allconsuming household.

So I mentioned it to M primarily in the context of coming off one of my meds and that perhaps my premenstrual rage was worse being off that particular drug.

He suggested an all-out attack on The Sydrome:
4 fish oil tablets (400mg minimum of EPA per tablet) daily
3 evening primrose tablets per day
1 Mega B executive stress tablet per day

This was based on research undertaken that had established that fish oil is very effective in managing mood, particularly in conjunction with anti-depressants. We discussed a study that had been undertaken in which long term sufferers of depression who had been otherwise unresponsive to anti-depressants were put on a course of high-DHA fish oil supplements and anti-depressants. Those taking the fish oil and a placebo experienced a 30% improvement in mood while those on the anti-depressants and fish oil registered something like an 80% improvement. That's in a cohort of people that had otherwise been drug-resistant (as in the anti-depressants had not worked, side-affects had been too severe etc). Impressive hey.

There is still debate over the dosage - some say 1mg some say 3mg.

The evening primrose is well established as a PMT treatment and the executive stress vitamin B supplement would be good for managing my stress regardless.

The idea was to start taking it holus bolus half way through my cycle and to see if it made any difference.

Well, let's just say my little monthly friend arrived bang on time and compared to my normal ball of fire fury I'd barely managed a smolder.

For me the clincher on this formula being a winner has been the fact that if I have been angry or stressed or cranky it hasn't lasted longer than acceptable for such a state of mind (minutes as opposed to hours if not days) and I have also been able to lift myself out of such a mindset much more easily than previously.

Not bad huh.

This Saturday

2009-10-29T14:37:00.001+11:00

will see a family reunion for my Mum's family.

There will be:
My mum and her five brothers and sisters
Two of their husband/wives (two divorces, two not coming due to ill health/age)
Me and my thirteen cousins
Nine of their partners (some still single, mine working breakfast,lunch, dinner at a paid job)
My four and the other nine grandchildren - aged from 11 years to 10 months

That makes FORTY FOUR people.

I'm catering for the whole thing. Don't get me wrong. I'm not doing for a martydom, I'm doing it because I am a control freak and I absolutely detest large gatherings where everyone 'brings a plate' and so you end up with some weird multi-cultural hodgepodge of dishes. It's been fun working out the menu due to the plethora of eating issues and allergies and so on.

But I must confess, when Mum said she wanted to do it neither of us ever thought everyone would come. Ever.

Family are gathering from Wollongong, Bathurst, Melbourne and Sydney. I mean, people are travelling, with small children, from Melbourne. If my Aunt in Melbourne was hosting this I'm not sure I could say we would have been going so I truly appreciate their efforts to come.

It's the first time the entire family would have been together since my Nan died five years ago.

Isn't that something!

The menu:
Dips and turkish bread (from the awesome Lebanese place in Frenchs Forest - of all places!)
Cheese plate w/ lavosh
Antipasto of vegetarian options

Baked ham
Spinach, pine nut, roasted pumpkin and feta salad
Five bean salad with lemon and poppy seed dressing
Asparagus and ricotta tart*
Leek and goats cheese tart*

Pavlova
Fruit Cake (the next day is my Aunt's 70th and my Mum also retired this year... after 45 years teaching.)

Lemon shortbread
Macaroons

(* with a gluten free pastry a la Maggie Beer)

So I'm off like a bride's nightie to start baking and to perhaps try and clean this house up a bit.

Crazy zebras are on the loose!

2009-10-28T20:34:00.000+11:00

Can we all nod and agree on the cold hard reality that pretty much the entire decade (cut me some slack, two decades is just too depressing to contemplate) from the age of around 8 to 18 is not about becoming and being a teenager but about being a tormentor.

While parents are drip-fed the torment in the form of constant requests for expensive toys and designer clothes and complicated dinners with a splash of impressive tantruming, door-slamming and wall-thumping and a smattering of impressive displays of just how far they brain has yet to develop, tormentors store most of their tricks for their siblings.

Think the screaming of statements of fact like:
STOP LOOKING AT ME!
WHAT?!
GOD (insert sibling name here)
YOU'RE SO ANNOYING
WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO DO WHAT I'M DOING???
MAAAAAAHHHHHHUUUUUUUUM, (insert sibling's name here)'s ANNOYING ME (like their behaviour and presence is just so delightfully scintillating and enjoyable)

Cast your mind back to physical signs of love and affection such as:
- the shove just because you were walking past
- the rumble that was so borderline assault you still wear the scars, mental and physical
- the face in your face telling you to get out of their face even though they just thrust their face into yours not visa versa
- the sharing of some food stuff whereby you get 1/16th and they get the rest but then collapse in a flail of 'how unfairs' when your parent gave you something else to make up for their mathematical remedialcy
- the.relentless.teasing.

Is it any wonder that by the time we reach adulthood and think our parents are completely lame they probably are after years of soul cobbling from enduring all this and trying to mediate it for years and years on end.

It is actually quite amazing that more parents are not bitter lunatics looking for revenge when, after all that they watch their offspring suddenly discover they quite like each other and start going to the pub or nightclub together and start secreting rolling-eyes and particular faces at each other when parents try to strike up a conversation about what they've been up to.

You know the parents who are getting their own back? Those mums who go clubbing with their daughters and dance around their handbag on the dance floor like it's 1999 that's who.

It is in the framework of this parental experience that I share with you the following incident.

Felix is particularly skilled at the sibling taunt and torment with the final scene an impressive display of self-righteous indignation along the lines of, 'BUT HE WAS ANNOYING ME'. This is always so perfectly in proportion to what has gone before when his sibling has basically entered the room after a shower to get dressed.

Following several months, nay years, of Felix carrying on like this and many many many discussions with him (both in the heat of the incident and at the far more effective time of later one) about how it isn't acceptable and how if he is feeling particularly frustrated with a sibling (let's face it, 98 per cent of the time we're talking about Oscar) there are strategies and actions he can engage to help him.

This of course results in a period of time varying from three minutes to even a couple of weeks of marked improvement in sibling relations until we begin the steady decline once more to another Ground Zero of Screamy McScreamy Tormentor Pants.

So imagine this. The regular nightly event called showering is taking place. Felix has finished and Oscar is getting in. This swap over coupled with the cleaning of teeth can basically never transpire without some form of contest, conflict or contact. Clearly, the idea of simply getting your towel and letting your brother pass is clearly so laughable, so ludicrous I'm not sure why I struggle with it being such the warzone it is.

On this particular evening I was actually in a good, even humorous, mood. So I cajoled Felix and for about the first time ever actually used a swear word while talking to him:

Me: "Felix, you are, what many people in the real world would call, a shit stirrer."

Felix: "What does that mean?"

Me: "Well, imagine if you will all the turds sitting in the bottom of the toilet bowl. They're happily minding their own stinky business, sitting their, stinking it up and generally feeling OK with the world. Then along comes Felix with a big wooden stick and stirs them all around." (Imagine this with me doing quite impressive actions and Oscar finding it hilarious while in the shower) "So all the happy little turds suddenly are all 'WOAH! What's going on, what's happening, I'm feeling all weird" (Imagine some impressive jazz hands with crazy hands and whole body conniptions that a turd must feel when flushed down the s-bend)

Felix: Wailing, flailing, storming off to his room, "NOBODY LOVES ME!!!!!" (cue door slam)

Me: Not being one to shy away from tormenting my children because people, revenge? such a cure, go and force the door open. Sticking my head around the corner I go "ba ba ba BOO!". Several times.

There is general laughing through his indignant tears at this stage.

I force my way in.

Me: "Felix, you know I love you more than I can ever ever express to you, but there are times when you have to accept that it is your behaviour, not that of your brothers, which is causing the incident. What was it that Oscar was doing that made you so angry?"

Felix: "He was annoying me."

Me: "No. That was how he made you feel. What was he actually doing that made you feel annoyed."

Felix: "He was looking at me."

Me: on the inside: belting him around the head with a dead stinky fish because OH.MY.GOD.
Me: to Felix: "Right. And instead of yelling and screaming and pushing him, did it occur to you to simply turn around? Or perhaps leave the bathroom area?

Felix: silence.

Me: "Felix, I know that a lot of things Oscar does and how Oscar is are very frustrating and annoying for you. There are aspects of Oscar that I find really frustrating and annoying. Do you know how hard that is? For a parent? To admit that about their child? But you know what? That is who he is. That was how he was born. And - as we have talked about many times before - you simply can not change people to suit you. BUT you can change how you respond and interact with them. So what are some of the things you can do?

Felix: "Ask him to stop."

Me: "Yes, what else?"

Felix: "Move away."

Me: "Yes, what else?" realising that yes, this child truly is the son of the father.

Felix: "Ask a grown up for help"

Imagine fireworks, fanfare!

Me: "Exactly. So how about we develop a code word or a saying which you can use when Oscar is getting in your face or you feel like you're about to lose it with him so I can come and help you out?"

And, not a word of a lie, the i.n.s.t.a.n.t. reply from Felix?

Felix: "How about 'Crazy zebras are on the loose'."

And so, dear friends, life goes on.

Rollercoasts, swings and roundabouts. That kind of thing.

2009-10-21T14:41:00.000+11:00

I think I have mentioned before my underwhelmed emotions about Jasper's kindergarten. That not one staff member used to come and greet him or say goodbye when we arrived and left. That not one staff member ever offered me any information about the kind of day he had or what activity he enjoyed. Still don't unless I ask them. That he has not formed one real friendship and when asked who he played with will quite matter-of-factly tell me he 'played all by myself'.

Here's the thing. I just don't think the staff like the children that much. Don't get me wrong, they care for them, they run a lovely structured program and they tick all the boxes they're meant to when it comes to meeting the government criteria, rules and regulations for a kindergarten.

But it seems to me they are more concerned with writing down what each child is doing and having everything in its place than simply playing with the kids and teaching them through play and fun activities.

I find their barely controlled panic when a child hurts themselves really quite funny - like something has happened that they didn't have in the program!

There was the time I went to open a toy from its wrapper on a table with lots of books on insects and toy bugs and asked the girls if that was OK. Three of them simultaneously cried out 'NO' with the director then offering that its because the pieces might get lost.

Even dust doesn't got lost at this place.

Or the time we weren't there for two weeks and when we returned not one staff member said hello or offered up a cuddle or asked Jasper where he'd been or if he'd had a good holiday.

My shiny happy Jasper is just some flotsam in this place. Other kids are more needy, more in need of assistance, more outspoken in the setting. Jasper just goes about his merry business and they - from all appearances - do nothing to tap into his world.

So why have we left him there all year? Well they do do things with them, it's not like he is neglected. He seems to enjoy it (when he's there) and I needed some down-time. Let's not underestimate this last point. If he had been really unhappy and fought going there I would have pulled him months ago, but that just hasn't been the case.

We are SO relieved we got a place in a wonderful pre-school for him next year. A centre which just screams it is for the children, with not an inch of wall space or even ceiling space free of the kids' artworks and creations. Where I've seen staff scoop children up and kids run to staff to tell them things or for a cuddle. Where there is an energy and a joy about being a part of these children's lives.

So while we've just been celebrating the world according to Jasper, what with him turning four and all, today Chef came home from dropping him off with a parent information note about the PALS (Playing And Leaning to Socialise) program and a form to sign for Jasper to be a part of it.

This is a really good program. I remember it from when Oscar was little and I think the kindy ran it there for him and some of his classmates. It is a series of half hour sessions using story telling, songs, games and role-play which work on skills such as greeting others, taking turns talking and listening and at play, sharing, asking for help, identifying feelings, empathy, overcoming fear and anxiety, managing frustration and calming down and speaking up.

But you know what. Just handing the info sheet to a parent with a 'I'd like Jasper to do this' is not good enough. Why? Have there been any situations or events that have made you concerned about him for this to be necessary? If so, why has there been NO discussion with us, his parents, about it - when there are now only EIGHT weeks left in the year?

Don't get me wrong, if any of my children are offered a place in a free educative program I'm taking it - hell, Jasper might come home and be able to model some behaviours for his older brothers to learn. BUT there is a way to go about informing parents of the program and why they think their child would benefit from being involved.

And apart from that, I want to yell at this place that what they see as Jasper's shyness is actually his reflection of how they interact and treat him.

I remember when Felix started at a pre-school his teacher said to me really early on that he was quite happy to play on his own rather than ask to join in and that if another child asked him to join an activity he would but would then just move away after a little while. This was apparently a red flag moment. I pointed out that maybe he didn't want to play whatever it was the other kids were playing and was happier doing the activity he chose to do on his own and that wasn't it better to move away once bored or over it than just lash out at the others or destroy what they were playing or WORSE, stay in the activity even though he didn't want to? Can I point out that at this time he was EIGHTEEN MONTHS OLD.

She also noted that Felix would sometimes go and do something to another child (like take their toy or some such) but that she was perplexed by it. She could see he was not doing it out of spite or naughtiness or malice and that it was obvious he did not want the toy or book or whatever it was to play with. She said to me, 'You know, he's doing it for a laugh. He's got this really developed sense of humour that his peers just don't understand yet.' Well, DERR. Thank goodness she finally 'got' him.

Holy crap people, let's get a grip. Jasper - like Felix and like his father and let's face it, like me - will not engage just for the sake of engagement. He will instigate conversations and games with adults and children alike, but if there isn't someone there he likes/wants to initiate with then he will happily go on his merry way and make his own game or do his own thing.

I'm sorry but I actually see that as a good personal trait.

So look, my shiny happy all singing and dancing and crazy walking and funny faced Jasper is going to do a social skills course. Not because he needs it but because there's not really anyone - adult or child - at this pre-school he particularly likes or wants to play with. I'm not saying this to make myself feel better, I'm saying it because I.know.my.son.

Hell, when he's here he's got three brothers to negotiate - two days at kindy are probably his idea of quiet time when he finally gets to play with something he wants to play with without having some great interloper of a big brother or some pesky gnat of a little brother coming in and sabotaging it.

I just want to tell them that the main reason they see him as shy at kindy is because of how they are with him, not because of who he is.

Idiots.

FOUR!

2009-10-19T22:06:00.000+11:00

There are quite a few of you who will remember this.With all the gory details here for those who want to catch up.

So somehow, someway, we blinked and went from this:

To this:

Wait, that doesn't show him in all his shiny glory:

To celebrate, I made him a birthday cake shaped like a giant penis. No really.

He wanted a rocket cake. Told me so when he saw a picture of Oscar's 6th birthday cake the day after his third birthday last year. So look, a penis with wings!

And you know, once those wings had been there for a while? Not helping.

Naturally, while all the puerile adults were giggling and being, well, puerile the kids thought the rocket was awesome.

Then there was the cutting of the cake. You know, if this child is the gay one, going off how he cut the cake, heaven help his partner.

Then the adults were even more gutter-humoured because it appeared I'd even paid attention to the, ah, internal anatomical details.

Yep, the kids are getting older which means we are too, but still with the penis jokes. What was worse was most of the family in attendance have all been suffering some sort of weird malaise which has involved ahh, lets say the need to be not too far from a bathroom and a reticence to fart for fear more than air will appear. So yeah, there were the kids happily eating cake and running around with each other while the grown ups grossed each other out with fart jokes, stories of bottom blow-outs and giggling at the iced phallus.

And this:

is the best shot of the whole family from the 17 taken.

So - the Jasper boy is four. It seems we've moved through the particularly horrid time that is three - you know, the year of the screamy McScreamy Pants routine when the air particles aren't quite how they should be.

We're still in the five food groups of salt and vinegar potato chips, hot chips (or crispy - they have to be CRISPY! - roast potatoes), boiled rice, plain pasta and white toast with butter. But now sometimes grapes are OK. Even watermelon! Sometimes roast chicken is acceptable as is roast lamb but there must be home-made gravy. Sometimes cruskits instead of toast! Occasionally sultanas! What can I say, I somehow produced a child who can almost solely exist on air.

He is a funny little kid, full of funny walks and faces. Always singing or telling you a story. Always in for a cuddle and perfectly capable of holding his own against his big brothers thank you very much.

When he came into the world we called him our little ray of sunshine. His arrival seemed to truly make us, to lift us from some sort of survival zone to a family. I just don't know how to explain it better than that. And you know, he still is that orb of light in the room.

So happy birthday happy shiny little man. We love you more than you will ever comprehend.

The answers!

2009-10-15T22:30:00.000+11:00

Duyvken: How are you planning celebrating the kids returning to school next week?
Champagne. Natch.
And maybe a jig.
Or perhaps just lying down on the lounge and watching anything NOT on the childrens' channels
Maybe a nap?
Maybe eating junk food w/out having to hide it and consume it in the pantry

Wait.
Jasper and Grover will still be here.

GODDAMMIT
(and D, I am thinking of you each and every moment...)

I just read (somewhere on your food blog) that you make gratin dauphinois and now I've got cravings. I know what I'm making for dinner tomorrow night! So, my question is, what's the recipe?
OH Potato Dauphinois how I love thee so. Here's the recipe sweets:

Gratin Dauphinois

2 cloves garlic, crushed
500ml milk
500ml thickened cream
2kg potatoes, cut into 1cm slices
salt and pepper
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp nutmeg

Preheat oven to 190C
Butter a large ceramic baking dish
Bring the garlic, milk and cream to the boil
Add the seasonings and potatoes - cook until potatoes are soft but not falling apart
Layer the potatoes in the baking dish, pour over the cream mix
Bake for around 30 minutes.

Fe: When are you going to start your next quilt?
Already have - am making a quilt for Felix next. It's an Amish Four-Patch Lightning quilt which means alternating 4-inch squares of one 4inch block of fabric with 4inch patches. We're using dark grey for the solids and pinky-reds, greens and purples for the patchwork squares. Sounds awful I know and certainly not what I would have chosen but for a boy becoming a teenager it is perfect and he loves it. And that is what counts. I guess.

(Another friend having an awful time of it. Thinking of you and D in some sort of tag team type arrangement)

Jane: When are you your most happiest? (Hi JANE!)
Gee.Um. I don't know. I haven't really thought about it. When we're all together doing nothing in particular - you know, when you're all having dinner and some conversation starts that gets everyone giggling. Like the other night we had fresh corn cobs as part of dinner and I made mention of how it comes out looking exactly like it went in. What followed was a delightfully erudite family discussion about corn poos. Hilarious!

Kurrabi kid: What's for tea?
Ahh, tonight was spaghetti al'oglio w/broccoli (cooked in the pasta water then mooshed through the pasta when tossed in the oil and sautéed garlic). It was very low-key as it was just me and the two little boys. Last night was pasta (I KNOW! Granted we haven't had pasta in over a week) as well - farfalle - with a simple tomato sauce to which I added a smidge of cream. Just because. That was served with rocket and English spinach tossed in a simple vinaigrette of olive oil and red wine vinegar with some homemade olive bread.

Kurrabi kid: If $ were no object (ie you can pick any ingredient from anywhere) what would you make?
Wow. I never really think of ingredients in terms of cost. If $ were no option I would be at Simon Johnson's cheese room once a week. At least. I would have tried some of this Spanish jamon everyone raves about. I would have tried truffles more than the once I have. We'd probably eat a lot more seafood. I would only buy organic meat - always.

Fifi: ...what is your worst food disaster?
OH MY. So many to choose from. The time I made a lemon delicious with limes but didn't grate the lime rind fine enough so it was like eating sponge with bullets of bitterness. Hideous. Or the sponge that you couldn't even cut let alone chew (granted I was about 12 at the time). Or the first 100 times I made bread and just didn't get the whole kneading concept and basically became totally adept at making paper weights. The stir-fry I made a few years back that tasted solely of that taste of tinned asian foodstuffs. Hideous. Or the seafood risotto I made for a dinner party of 14? The first time I'd ever made risotto and when I was still hopelessly impatient with my cooking. The rice was undercooked and all we could all do was giggle at how the mussels looked like female genitalia. The other dinner party for about 16 (can you believe I used to do full three-course dinner parties for friends when I was at school! This was in Year 10 I think) when I made a three-tiered almond vacherin for dessert but forgot to take the paper liners off from under the pavlova layers so we were all fishing out soggy gladbake from this most delicate of desserts. Shall I go on!

How do you make that fancy icing like on a wedding cake, can you buy it in a shop and assemble it on the cake and justify your very existence by impressing people???
What, are you planning on making it? I HATE that fancy icing on a wedding cake - it's tasteless and normally involves a level of marzipan, a foodstuff I just don't understand or appreciate. You know why it's tasteless? Because it's made of eggwhites and icing sugar. That's it. Nothing good can come of eggwhites and icing sugar. Where's the butter!?!

If you were a drag queen, what would your character be named, and what would be your signature song to bump and grind to?
HAH! I have absolutely NO IDEA. Probably some play on Mae West due to my ample bust. And really, if I didn't bump and grind to Footloose then I'd be doing my teenage years a gross injustice.

Peskypixies: fave food to cook??
Any dessert. Any. At the moment I am in love with making and cooking with puff pastry - it is just an absolute delight and makes me skip in the kitchen. Oh, and bread. I adore making bread. There's something so organic about it.

tea or coffee??
Tea. I used to drink coffee - up until my pregnancy with Jasper when the smell and taste of it made me heave. I have never been able to come back to it. Now it makes my anxiety go through the roof and my tummy sad. I have come back to loving the smell of it. Except on people's breath. Gag. I take my tea strong with barely a dash of milk. That or any of those herbal numbers - except peppermint. The idea of drinking a cup of something that tastes like toothpaste makes my neck itch.

day or night??
early morning and if I'm in the country, dusk. There is something about dusk in the country. Like a day well spent.

summer or winter?
Winter all.the.way. baby. All the way. Warm sunny days make me hideously cranky.

sweet or sour??
That totally depends on my mood. If you'd asked me sweet or salty then I'd pick salty over sweet. But again, depends on my mood. I'm very contrary you know.

fave thing to do??
bake.
play with my kids.
have talks to Felix.
receive and give cuddles to my boys.
quilt!

fave movie??
That's too hard - there's so many - Footloose, Steel Magnolias, St Elmo's Fire, The Breakfast Club, When Harry Met Sally, The Royal Tannenbaums, Stranger that Fiction, The Darjeeling Limited, Napoleon Dynamite, I could go on and on and will get annoyed when I remember ones I haven't put down here

fave drink??
room-temperature water. I hate cold water.

fave snack??
When I'm good? Cherries. Or figs. Or a really crisp apple. Or grapes.
When I'm bad? Salt & vinegar chips

best memory from childhood??

Waking up and coming into our family room and seeing my mum and dad sitting on the floor together reading the Saturday Herald. One of the few memories I have of them together, happy.

Dancing Morgan Mouse: were you a chef in a former life?
Oh aren't you sweet! Maybe. I think if I hadn't gone to the swanky girls private school where it was just an unspoken no-no to go into a trade I may well have ended up doing hospitality and becoming a whizz-bang pastry chef.

Janet: how did you get the stitching so good on your quilt? was there swearing involved - or did it just flow?
I drew lines! And yes, there was swearing. And a LOT of unpicking. I unpicked a.l.o.t. Nothing with quilting goes with the flow for me just yet. I can't wait until it does!

Linda: how many remote controls on the coffee table and do you know how to operate them all? (HI LINDA!)
ONE! We have one of those logitech ones that controls the tv, xbox (also used as our dvd player), av reciever, optus - it is even programmed to turn the heater on and off or increase or decrease the heat. I know how to use it but have no idea how to program it.

action or procrastination?
Are you kidding? Procrastination all the way baby. I'm meant to be editing someone's uni assignment as I type this.

Karl or Kochy?
Neither. Both make me want to stick pins in my eyes and other blunt objects in my ears. To me they both represent the complete dumbing down of our population. They're like the white bread of current affairs. I am Jo and Virginia (ABC Breakfast on ABC2) all.the.way. Plus the guy who does their sports is kinda spunky.

dessert island read?
Too hard. Maybe a pile of the classics with some Tom Robbins, Chuck Pahlanuick and David Sedaris thrown in for good measure.

dessert island food?
Figs and cherries. I'd be nothing if not regular.

if you are not writing a book - why not?
Fear. Plain and simple. Fear.

Paola: Did you always know you wanted many kids? (Beautiful Paola!)
Yes. And I always knew they'd be boys.

Were you always this GREAT at cooking?
I think I always had an affinity for it. But it has taken me a great many years to get the feel for it - to know when something is just right or needs something else or to just leave it. Particularly with savoury stuff. I was always in such a hurry as a child/teen/twenty-something with my cooking. Maybe that's why it's only been in recent years that making pastry and bread have come to me - that I've slowed down.

And parenting?
OH aren't you gorgeous. I'm not sure you'd be asking me that if you'd seen me tear strips off all of them in the carpark at Warriewood Square today about how disgusted I was in their behaviour and how ungrateful they were and so on and so forth. That said, I think I am a lot more comfortable in my own skin as a parent now that I was even just three or four years ago.

What's your favourite car?
I quite fancy those little Audi Roadster TTs or maybe a Mercedes SL Class Roadster. To transfer all the family? The Audi Q7 would be nice.

Can you drive a motorcycle?
No, but my husband can! And I've gone pillion.

Boat?

What? Drive one? Sit on one and have someone sail me around the harbour while I sip champagne and eat canapes? SURE! I did learn to sail about 12 years ago but after I had Oscar and got back on a boat I had a complete anxiety attack and was convinced something bad was going to happen.

Suse: So you steal my blogpost idea, but don't ask me a question?
Yep. You'd already answered! I didn't know the shop was still open!

And get Fifi to come here and ask a PLETHORA of questions?
Yep. Fifi loves me. What can I say.

Blackbird: How tall are you?
5'4'' or 166cm

And what size shoe do you wear?
39

And Wellies or Blunnies?
You've totally thrown me with this discussion. They're for two totally separate situations. Gumboots are for the rain. Blunnies are for the farm.

Norma: if money flowed very freely to you what would you change in your life ? (HI NORMA!)
We'd travel. That'd be about it. OH sure, I'd buy brand-label clothes and shoes, ohmyGod the shoes!, and I would have bought Felix the expensive sneakers he wanted today which I refused to get him. And the boys would go to private school for high school. But travel. We'd travel. Every year. To somewhere new. OH, and I'd buy the family a holiday house/weekender at Patonga.

Sooz: If you were an animal, what animal would you be?
A platypus. Platypuses ROCK.

If you could choose any job in the world, what job would you have (feeling free of course to alter any other life details to accommodate)?
An archeologist.

Why did you start blogging?
There were just too many words in my head.

What would it take to get you knitting?
Drugs. And that it wasn't actually knitting. Knitting makes my neck itch.

Elizabeth Brooks: So do you ever get worried about having a public blog? Do you get tempted to over share (about people who annoy you for instance) and then regret it.
Done it. And it wasn't about someone who annoyed me but a story in which I gave a back story and the back story upset someone very close to me. It still makes my stomach turn. But I stood my ground - that my blog is my place and in my life I have very few 'my places'. If people don't like it, don't read it.

This has been so much fun! If you still have a question, ask away - I'll do another round next week!

Q&A

2009-10-14T11:11:00.000+11:00

Totally stolen from Suse, but I have noticed there is absolutely no correlation between the number of hits I get a day and the number of comments received. So all you lurkers, de-lurk and ask me something. Anything. And I shall answer to the best of my ability.

Please note: if I only get like, five questions, then I may retire to the drawing room with the revolver.

No pressure.

Two things you all must do

2009-10-12T22:16:00.001+11:00

Go and watch this immediately. It is enchanting, heart-breaking, uplifting, funny and sad. It completely took me by surprise.

And on a completely different note, go peruse this. It'll make you laugh out loud. Well, it should.

How the Amish do porn. *snort*

School Holidays - when everyone else is away so noone hears you scream

2009-10-09T23:10:00.000+11:00

Oh dudes, the last week has been kicking my arse from here to kingdom come. Seriously.You're going to have to excuse me while I just bitch about my kids.

Oscar - the.most.specTACular meltdown today because Grover turned off some basketball game on the xbox and put in a Thomas the Effing Engine DVD instead. It went for over 20 minutes and if you haven't already seen this YouTube treat then take a peak and you're getting somewhat close to what Oscar delivered to us today. On a platter. With garnish!

Felix - oscillating between being just lovely and the biggest boil on the butt of humanity. With bad hair.

Jasper - do.not.get.me.started.

Grover - sitting somewhere between the fall guy for Jasper, Jasper's right hand man and the most fiercely independent two year old to ever walk the planet. Oh, and adorable. But this week has seen the start of me putting him in his room for 'some quiet time'. Which is funny because when I'm putting him in there the screaming can be heard in space.

Things have been broken, painted, drawn on, WRECKED.

And it's making me sigh. A LOT.

New favourite

2009-10-07T15:10:00.000+11:00

Glee.

The dodgy chromosome

2009-10-06T18:01:00.001+11:00

So it's been some time since I talked about Oscar and his needs and where we're at with his lot in life. I've been sitting on writing this down for some time - the whole complexity of it which when I write it down seems to get lost in a quagmire of me sounding tired, angry and well, tired. And that Oscar is getting older and the whole notion of his rights and privacy and so forth.

But much is swimming around in my head at the moment and this seems as good a place as any to dump the detritus.

Medical
We're still dealing with bed wetting and recurrent colds/sore throats. Oscar seems particularly susceptible to the latter and even as the rest of the family finally broke free from various winter ailments Oscar has not completely bounced back.

The bed wetting absolutely does my head it. All that literature that says don't get angry and don't make a big deal out of it can go shove its collective wisdom and advice up its own arse because mine is so goddam sick of changing sheets and remaking beds. See. Tired and angry.

A while back when Grover was in hospital w/ severe croup (was that seriously like 18 months ago?) the paediatrician on call was a very genteel English fellow who turned out to also be a clinical geneticist. We finally got around to seeing him a few months back and there is a huge amount of relief in FINALLY having a medical professional acting as an umbrella over all of Oscar's development and health. Up until now it has been down to whatever hunch or instinctual feel I have coupled with an awesome family GP.

The interesting things that have come from this relationship are:
- that the top of Oscar's palate isn't formed properly and go some distance to explaining the speech difficulties, the pitch (which tests my maternal love every single day) and volume (which when the pitch is taking a rest takes the baton and keeps on running) of Oscar's voice.
- we're exploring some options with the bed-wetting
- the anxiety/headache matrix
- he's obese.

This last point was not a surprise but to have a professional say it to you. Out loud. And show you on a graph is all rather confronting. The goal is to keep Oscar around his current weight and that over the next three y.e.a.r.s. it will all work itself out. For the child that would basically eat from the time he wakes to the time he sleeps can I tell you how exhausting it is constantly coming up with low calorific low GI foods that will stop him asking 'Ogga eat?'.

But then - get this - the paed did some further research on Chromosome 4 abnormalities and it turns out that within the area on the chromosome Oscar has his repetition is the gene for the propensity to hold weight around your middle. I kid you not. So that is clearly contributing to the situation. Clearly I have the same repetition, it's just the genetic testing didn't pick it up. Clearly.

The headache issue is ongoing and very difficult to manage. Sometimes it is a legitimate headache and thankfully quite rarely these days a migraine. The rest of the time it is simply a way of getting out of something he doesn't want to do at school, in the classroom or at home.

I love that special needs kids technically have low IQs but really they are so much more cluey that the brightest of child sparks.

School
Oscar's coming up to the end of Year 5, which means he has one more year of primary school and then we are facing the prospect of high school. Think about a child with various neuroses but who is still quite a resilient creature. Think of a child with a profound speech disability but is known by all in the school community and understood by all in his class because they've been together since Year 2. Think of a child safe in his small school setting of just under 300 students. Then contemplate sending that child to a high school of 800+ students and just TRY to stop yourself from developing a drinking habit. No really. Give it a go.

There are a few options:
- two local government high schools (one of which isn't an option - a belief confirmed by the district head counsellor)
- local Catholic high school (enrollments are shut for his year already and because we're not Catho's the chance of us getting him in are 'very very remote'. Apparently.)
- not local government boys high school (recommended by a few people actually) but several suburbs away,
- Catholic special needs high school.

At the moment the last two are coming in favourites. Can you hear my head exploding?

On top of all of this we have a child well and truly in the grip of early puberty. We're getting hair 'down there' and 'under there', we're getting mood swings, the occasional pimple and did I mention mood swings? God help us when shaving has to start.

At the very core of everything with Oscar is worry. Worry about his health (I have recurring nightmares of him dying in my arms), worry about his social life and that we are his world, worry about his schooling, worry about what he'll do as an adult, worry about every single aspect of his life. I have been determined since his diagnosis at birth that expending energy in this department as it was going to do nothing to help him be the best he can be. But every now and then - mainly around times of big change - it rears its ugly head. TaDa!

So what's so different to those worries with your children who are 'normal'? I guess the easiest way to explain it is that with your normal kids you hope that you have equipped them with the skills to meet those challenges that come their way while you just.know. that similar challenges to someone like Oscar will just result in spectacular deer in headlight case-studies.

Social
I worry so much about this - ok, going to stop saying the word worry. We have some boys over the road and then two doors down from them is a boy in Felix's class. Naturally, Felix asks to go over there and I readily let him. But when Oscar asks ... I mostly say no. Why? Because of crossing the road by himself (which he can actually do better if you're not there. I know. I've secretly watched him.). Because they're not there (when I don't know if that is the case). And no because I said so. This makes me feel incredibly bad because I'm saying no because I don't want to inconvenience them. With Oscar. Shocking and shameful. So today I thought no, if he asks to go over I'm going to let him. If it is a problem for them they will say no and he will come back . I have to pay him that.

You see, this brings me to my biggest speed bump. Parenting a special needs child is a complex contradiction of emotions. Fierce love and protection and defence and promotion coupled with sheer exhaustion, frustration, annoyance and crankiness. SO many things about Oscar drive me to a point of insanity. The constant questioning, the tireless sticking his nose in everyone else's business, the high pitched shrill, the unreliability of day-to-day functioning, the constant questioning, the fussing over the most simple of requests. Ironically much of this is what others find so endearing in him. He is a beautiful, caring, empathetic, funny and inquisitive child. His family is his world and OH THE WOE if all are not accounted for.

So there you have it. The whole ugly love/hate of it all.

I think that covers it. Questions? Anyone? Bueller?

Things that have put a kick in my step this week

2009-09-30T01:08:00.000+10:00

Felix made the PSSA Jnr boys softball team. His first PSSA team. He is very chuffed about it all. He scored two home runs in their first match last Friday.

I unpicked the quilt. All 42 squares. I spent a lot of time with the legend-ladies at the quilting fabric store (who remembered me!) and they offered a few suggestions on the solution I wanted to try. Tonight, just now, I finished re-piecing (is that the right term?) the pieces and DUDES, I can't stop smiling.

I ordered some fabric (which was on sale) online and it arrived today. My first real stash.

I made puff pastry for the first time and it worked AND it was delicious. I can NOT tell you all enough that it is EASY but it does take time. Such a wonderful dough to work with too.

I have done washing AND put it away.

This afternoon the ducks were back up in our street, quacking away. They used to only appear after it had rained but they've been up our way a lot lately (they waddle up from the lake which is equidistant as the beach is from our place). So today we fed them and followed them back down to the lake. A lovely spontaneous activity.

I caught up with a friend K on Saturday who I hadn't seen in months and months. Just lovely.

Felix used some of his money that he's saved and bought a new scooter and got funky grips - he can't get over it and keeps telling me so. As well as thanking me profusely. I'm taking the thanks and neglecting the whole 'well it was your money' line. It's just lovely to see his eyes all wide with excitement, gratitude and appreciation.

This is the last week of Term 3 so the big boys will be on holiday for two weeks from Friday. Sweet.

There are two boys who live across the road from us who are around the same age as Oscar and Felix. A boy in Felix's class (who he is becoming more and more friendly with) lives two doors down from them. In the last three weeks or so they've all started playing with each other so now it's a revolving door of boys, scooters, TV, war games, rumbling on the trampoline, thundering through the house, more scootering, lake exploring, checking out the beach, more thundering through the house asking what there is to eat. There's been sleep-overs and just hanging out together and all I can think is 'this is what a childhood is meant to be. This is the memories the boys will have as adults of their childhood'. And oh, how happy that makes me feel.

Jasper is rhyming words, matching words that start with the same sound and able to spell his name out loud. Watching a child learn to read and write takes my breath away. I never tire of it.

Life, it's just rolling on along.

Something to tempt your tastebuds

2009-09-27T23:13:00.000+10:00

Yes people, I finally faced my fear and made puff pastry. And it was AWESOME.

On raising boys

2009-09-26T20:30:00.001+10:00

Every now and then an article appears which speaks sense. Which leaves all the theatrics and gross generalisations at the door and says something you hope every parent of every boy reads. This was in today's SMH. I'm reprinting it below because it's good.

And look, if that's not your style then go check out these pics of awesome specimens of men in peak physical condition from today's AFL Grand Final. I was a tad devastated for St Kilda, I think after winning 20 from 22 games all season they had earned their stripes to take home the major prize. And I think Nick Riewoldt is hot. And that hotness is only exacerbated by the reality of his leadership skills, work ethic (the guy warms up for something like 2 hours before the game and still gets so nervous he spews) and passion for the game. I'll stop now. *Cougar alert Code RED*

The fear is boys who will be boys forever

Tim Hawkes
September 26, 2009

A girl looking for a boy to love is not always turned on by a bulging biceps or a washboard stomach. She is more likely to be attracted by a gooey mass of crinkled jelly at the front of the brain called the pre-frontal cortex. This may come as a disappointment to some boys, particularly those relying on their biceps and washboard stomachs.
It might also become a disappointment to be told the PFC tends to develop more slowly in boys than in girls, and may not fully mature until a male is at least 20 years old. No amount of "how-can-they-resist-me" gel to the hair or compelling man-fragrance on the chin can make up for an underdeveloped or damaged PFC. It is the seat of many of the qualities that turn a stupid boy into a mature man.
As often as not, the sort of thing that wrecks marriages and destroys romances is selfishness, poor self-control and thoughtlessness. The part of the brain that contributes most significantly to the presence or absence of these qualities is the PFC.
For some boys it is a "pretty fantastic centre" of the brain which contributes to their reputation for good judgment and being particularly fine company. In others, it is a "positively foul centre" which contributes to their reputation for high-risk actions, poor social skills and immature behaviour.
The health of the brain is also of interest to employers, not renowned for tolerating high-risk or unco-operative behaviour. The penalty paid for a poorly developed PFC can be considerable; they may be unlucky not only in love but in wealth.
Quite literally, some boys are becoming mindless. Their lifestyles will damage their neural pathways, resulting in fewer connections in the brain and a reduced efficiency in its operation. The mindless brain is typically consumed with wanting "experiences" and is preoccupied with the here and now. The mindful brain is typically consumed with wanting meaning and is preoccupied with thinking. The one is infantile and the other is adult.
The cry emanating from exasperated parents and disappointed partners of wanting a boy "to grow up" is a medical diagnosis of brain malfunction. It can be the result of high-risk behaviours which can lead to a pruning of the brain. The result is a denuded mind.
The brain has a remarkable capacity to grow or shrink depending on whether it is used. If a boy wishes to engage in experiences which blow his mind, he will succeed in more ways than one. Thrill seeking, binge drinking, drug taking and overeating will damage the brain and render it less effective in guiding its owner towards mature behaviour. A childish state can result: a man trapped as a boy.
For a brain to be kept healthy and functionally efficient, it needs to be exercised and kept free of bumps, drugs and too many baths of dopamine. Dopamine is an addictive chemical, much like cocaine, which is released in the brain when the body engages in thrill-seeking "fight or flight" behaviours.
Getting high on adventure is a literal truth in the lives of some boys. The high can also come from drugs, drink, sex, food and dangerous activities. Reward-seeking activities are fuelled by dopamine so they are craved time and time again. The price paid can be the development of an infantile brain.
Evidence suggests a significant engagement with video games, social networking and TV can also promote an infantile brain. A gamer's world is characteristically filled with violence without empathy, behaviours without consequences. Little wonder these qualities become learned and transferred to the real world. The gamer is bombarded with images, sound, and compelling action.
How can a teacher compete? Armed with only a whiteboard marker, the teacher is no match for the visual armoury of the computer screen. Small wonder that the number of boys being treated for attention deficit disorder is growing dramatically. The battle of the real world against the virtual world is being lost.
It is easy to sensationalise this thesis just as it is easy to dismiss it. The truth lies somewhere in between and requires a boy to counteract those activities which have little meaning with activities that have great meaning. How many boys have a worthy cause, a charity, a calling in their life as well as a computer, mobile phone and television?
The most frightening situation occurs when there is an accumulation of brain-deadening behaviours. It is difficult to believe an under-exercised, jelly-bellied video gamer, with an affection for junk food and late nights, is going to survive childhood without being mentally damaged.
We need to be concerned about the possibility of a brain-damaged generation of children. To this add a desensitising to violence (by the age of 18 a boy will have watched about 20,000 murders), a premature sexualising (12- to 22-year-old males are the biggest users of sex-chat lines), and exhaustion due to social networking (peak use of teenage networking is just after midnight).
There must be a renewed urgency to ensuring our sons are readers of books as well as watchers of screens. They must eat well, exercise, sleep and be given experiences beyond the trivial. To fail in this is to condemn boys to perpetual boyhood.

Tim Hawkes is headmaster of The King's School, Parramatta.

This story was found at: http://www.smh.com.au/opinion/society-and-culture/the-fear-is-boys-who-will-be-boys-forever-20090925-g67p.html

From the mouths of babes

2009-09-25T15:03:00.000+10:00

Scene: As I'm standing at the dining room table contemplating my latest arrangement of squares for my very first quilt.

Felix: Is this going to be like you and baking bread?

Me: What do you mean?

Felix: Like, you know, how you get really into it and do it every day and then just stop?

This morning we awoke to this

2009-09-23T08:27:00.000+10:00

Duststorm in Sydney? Are there people who still don't believe in global warming? Really? IDIOTS.

Just click

2009-09-19T00:14:00.002+10:00

Go on, just go and check out this

New favourite

2009-09-17T18:04:00.004+10:00

And this just does something to my soul.

Purple cats, one-eyed gremlinbats and other ridiculously crafty activities going on around here

2009-09-17T00:59:00.001+10:00

Say hello to Purple Cat. It certainly doesn't look like the picture in the book but I am very proud of her. See that patterned belly? That is from one of mum's old aprons from the 60s. See that BLANKET STITCH! Well underneath the blanket stitch on the belly is also a zig-zag edging to safeguard against fraying. See the fabric? It's an old pillow case. I'm so THRIFTY!

Stop me now, I'm only moments away from referring to it as being 'darling'.

See that felt? It comes from a little haberdashery shop in Mona Vale run by an elderly gentleman who seems to permanently have his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. Well as permanently as I can allude to on two visits to the shop.

Her arms and legs are a bit thinner than I had imagined or wanted but that may be perhaps because I adhered to the seam allowance. I've decided I hate cutting out patterns and so there was no way I was cutting out four limbs all over again.

Meanwhile, Felix had made his own little pattern for a creature and waited as patiently as a nine and a half year old can for me to create it for him. Little was the operative word and I had to create a bigger version for him.

We're not sure if its a bat, or a gremlin so, it's the one-eyed gremlinbat. See those buttons? From the big jar mum has kept for decades. The eye is a crystally number but apparently I got it wrong as the button I used for it's butt

was meant to be its eye. Whoops.

Oscar has requested a purple cat too (both he and Jasper claim purple as their favourite colour) and is waiting for it. I would say patiently but we know I don't tend to lie over here.

THEN

If that wasn't enough, the boys and I sanded back the Ikea table and chairs we've had since Oscar and Felix were teeny. The Ikea kids furniture is nowhere near as good as this anymore plus it's all smaller. So, for the princely sum of $15.50 (two spray cans of gloss enamel paint) we have brand new furniture:

It was CRIMINAL how easy it was. AND it was touch dry in TEN minutes.

AND

I KNOW so much news!

Do you remember several weeks back me telling you about this old wingback chair we had? That Mum and Dad had been given as a wedding present from some family friends? That was covered in delightful BLACK VINYL? With the springs falling out of the bottom? And that I'd bought some fabric from Ikea and we were getting it recovered? SO MANY QUESTIONS.

Well, the upholsterer brought it back last night:

I am absolutely thrilled with the result:

Some of you are probably recoiling in horror, but I am in love:

And that should really do for one post.

Welcome to Bizarro World - also known as the time I made a fucking cow.

2009-09-09T10:39:00.000+10:00

When I first started blogging with Bec all those eons ago over at Glamorouse (which is doing very peculiar things in terms of its 'look') we were part of a little community of bloggers which was bizarrely very craft focused. I blame Bec. Apart from being a huge braniac and loving riddles she can also sew. Or is it knit? Or probably both.

Anyway. It was a bit weird really because I had not sewn anything or been particularly 'crafty' for years. Decades even. In fact, doing craft activities at home with my children positively makes my neck itch - all that setting up, all that mess and what? All for three minutes of mayhem and an hour of cleaning up? Meh.

But when I was at school I did do a fair bit of craft-type stuff. Not dress making mind you - I'm still damaged by family members who make outfits in floral stretch cotton with elastic waists and cowl necks - but stuff like cross-stitch. I like cross-stitch. All that order I guess. In fact, when I was on bed rest during Oscar's pregnancy I started a mammoth one of cute little elves playing musical instruments in the forest. I know. WTF. I blame pregnancy hormones on that one TOTALLY. Anyway, it's about one quarter finished and now has some great stains on it from the hoop and where I'd threaded the needle. Oh I've pulled it out over the years and thought, I must finish that and maybe put each of the boys' names and their date of births along the bottom. Curiously each of those times probably coincides with being pregnant. Funny that.

I kind of rebelled against this bizarre cohort of bloggers for a while - in a 'what the hell am I doing hanging with this knitters when I don't even know how to knit* let alone want to - and headed off to find my like kind - the cooks.

But you know what? The food bloggers are a bit of a weird bunch - apart from Smitten Kitchen and The Pioneer Woman who I check in with daily - there are very few I 'connected' with. It just seemed more competitive, less of a community and more of a bake-off.

And so I found myself drawn back again to the world of crafting bloggers. Goddamnit.

Oh, don't get me wrong, I never left some of the crafty buggers but their world just seemed so mysterious to me. I mean, Suse can twitter and knit. AT THE SAME TIME.

And I've sort of got that fan idolisation for Sooz who seems to whip up highly complicated things in outrageously short spans of time. I won a hat made by her a few months back and while it doesn't fit my Halloween-pumpkin sized head it fits my mum and as summer approaches I will be able to marvel at her remarkable sewing more days than not. She also made me a great (or what some in the crafting world would call a 'darling') little grab and run bag that just holds my wallet, sunglasses and phone. I drag that bag everywhere.

Don't even get me started on Alison over at 6.5st - her blog is as stunning as the creations she produces. Intimidated? MUCH.

But it was Pip at Meet me at Mikes which I think made me think there were projects I could do - her world is as much about craft and creation as it is about imagination and creativity. Suddenly what all these wonderful women do so easily seemed a little bit more accessible? That's not the word - but I guess she was doing things that weren't just sewing or knitting or crotcheting and that just opened my craft-bigoted mind.

I would stand staring at her book in various book stores unable to justify the outlay in our current church mice financial status. Then through good luck or planetary alignment I won a copy through her website.

And I guess just owning such a book unlocked one heck of a door because first there was this:

Which technically I still haven't finished (it needs a varnish on it because it feels like you're standing on a wall. You know, because it is technically wall paint.)

And then there has been the purchasing of fabric from Ikea for no other reason than I.liked.them.

And then.

Then there was yesterday.

Yesterday I made something called a 'softie' - a cute soft toy. OH YES I DID.

The pattern and instructions came from Pip's book. The project was by Fliss Dodd for an "Udderly lovely cow" and it was suitable for "the confident beginner". It should take about three hours to make.

So naturally I thought - how hard can it be!

Let's just say that cutting out the pieces took me a good hour and a half.

I re-learnt how to fell stitch (I really wanted to blanket stitch but I couldn't find a YouTube video showing how to do one around the edge of something which is attached to something else - the only ones I found were on the edge of something on its own.) I did some French knots. I DEVIATED FROM THE PATTERN. Just a little.

I had to use a sewing machine. Behold the Beast:

My mum bought this in the early 60s. She still has the operational book (in pristine condition) and I learnt to sew on it in the early 80s. It is all steel and subsequently weighs a tonne. It's quite intimidating.

Anyway. I got to bed at 2am because with GOD AS MY WITNESS I was going to make this FUCKING COW in one day.

Behold, the Fucking Cow:

See those ears? They're backwards. But do you think on realising this at 1.30 this morning I was going to unpick them and fix it? Correctamundo!

Jasper saw it this morning and immediately claimed it as his own.

There was quite a violent exchange between Jasper and Grover under the dining room table for 'Moo'. And I really was beginning to think it was a fucking cow.

Until Jasper saw the pattern by Jhoanna Monte Aranez for "Zing the polite cat", threw 'Moo' the Fucking Cow to Grover and said he wanted a purple cat. NOW.

* This is technically not true it's just been so long since I have knitted that I just find the whole process incredibly tedious.

Various points for your consideration

2009-09-02T23:43:00.000+10:00

So Chef and I went to the movies last week and saw Inglourious Basterds. I KNOW - we went.to.the.movies.

Neither of us can remember the last time we did that without the offspring and that the film was not by Pixar.

And well, I think we all know the Basterds is not by Pixar. HOLY CRAP people I love Quentin Tarantino. I know I know, that is so lame but you know, he is the most awesome of story tellers. No one. NO ONE builds tension in a film like Quentin. Yes, we're on a first name basis. And look, we all know that if you're seeing one of his films then a lot of people if not everyone are going to die. And they're going to die horrible, gruesome, brutal deaths. But they do so with aplomb. And an awesome soundtrack.

I don't know, I just love a film maker who takes no prisoners. Who takes all the 'but you can't do that' sentiment and while flipping the double bird, looks you in the eye and very calmly says, 'fuck you'.

Go see it.

*****
If Chef and I going to the movies was not crazy enough, on Monday night we went to see Ben Folds perform at the Sydney Opera House. OH YES WE DID. I got my regular email from the SOH months ago and saw his gig coming up and straight away booked tickets w/ the credit card. We didn't/don't have the money for such things but I decided I didn't care, that we would pay for it somehow (thank you 08/09 tax return).

The man is a musical genius. It was an awesome night and included him performing - for the first time - three songs from his upcoming collaborative album with the author Nick Hornby. There was one titled the Levi Johnston Blues - very very funny.

I have a big place in my heart for talented, self-depreciating, humorous individuals who clearly still get a huge kick out of what they do. At one stage he had us doing a three part harmony and the excitement he displayed was infectious. The concert hall at the SOH is not renown for its acoustics but with a full house, including the choir stalls behind him, he was all 'man, I have the best seat in the house'.

*****
Tonight Oscar was drawing and as I wandered past I realised he was drawing up a soccer field. It was good in and of itself but the thing that just blew me away was that at the top of the picture he had written soccer. Just like that. No needing me to spell it, no crazy letter sizing, just like that.

DUDES - I can not express how monumental this is. Can.not.

*****
This week I did something crazy. We have one of those wooden Ikea stools - the bekvam. Behold:

It was looking pretty tatty.

So, I had this sample pot of paint and had this crazy idea. It was about as close to craft as I get without breaking out in a rash.

I KNOW. Look, here it is in action:

*****
Now I'm not sure how many of you read Maggie over at Mighty Girl but I have read her for ages and adore her. I love her style, I love her creativity and ideas. But. She did this list of things she wanted to do in her life - a great and inspirational read. And then, Intel came on board to help her achieve the list.

WTF? Why?

What do they get for doing that?

I mean, seriously, from a marketing/PR perspective, how is that a valuable enterprise for Intel? That they support inspirational people? That they are therefore inspirational?

The next time I'm in the market for a computer I'm going to choose something with Intel over something without because they paid for Maggie from Mighty Girl to swim with glowing planktony fishy thingies and to drink cocktails in Greece?

Really?

Because all it does is make me pissed off. Sure, I'm jealous, you bet darn tootin I'm jealous, but it just strikes me as so... so vacuous. Here is a successful businesswoman who I'm fairly sure could sponsor herself to on these various jaunts. Sure maybe it wouldn't have been now, hell maybe she would have had to save up for it but this is not someone on Struggle Street, not someone who needs this kind of leg up.

I mean, sponsor a literacy program, put new computers in poor communities, back a special ed program using computers for kids with special needs - now that would make me think this is a worthwhile ethical morally conscious company.

But this? This just makes me think they've got some cash kickin' around don't actually have any idea about new forms of marketing or even who their audience is.

Wow, that ended up being quite the little tanty didn't it.
*****

Eye on the job, dick in the pants: a basic recipe for success.

2009-09-01T09:28:00.001+10:00

I learnt some time ago not to talk politics over here, primarily because I hate conflict and I don't want to piss off any conservative readers that may accidentally come my way.

For those not interested in matters of State or not in Australia and for which the following may sound like same dog different lawn, I apologise. Look away and normal programming will return shortly.

Last night I heard that John Della Bosca, a senior minister in the ~~useless as tits on a bull~~ ~~broken~~ ~~tired~~ NSW Government was being exposed as having an affair.

By this morning he had resigned.

Curiously, recent leadership speculation within NSW Labor had Della Bosca as the front runner to replace our ~~deer in headlights~~ ~~doomed from the outset~~ ~~never going to get an unencumbered run~~ ~~whipping post~~ current Premier Nathan Rees.

The woman involved in the scandal spilt all the gory details to The Daily Telegraph but every major media outlet was having a gnaw on the carcass quicker than a hoard of hungry Greeks could attack a pig on a spit. (Apologies to any readers of Greek heritage.)

But what of all this? Another sex scandal involving a government minister? That is certainly nothing new.

But here we have a Government in the most ugly of death throes. A Government who has been given a second change one hundred times over. A pride of politicians given a pretty straightforward job description and entrusted by the people to do that job each and every day.

NSW Labor has always been a bear pit of factional infighting. Always. But with a strong leader at the helm those factions sign an uneasy truce filled with much pacing, glaring and reluctance. Once that leader is gone, well, here we are.

Della Bosca was always a front runner for the leadership - surely I'm not the only one to have thought so? And yet at a time the leadership was so tenuous for Rees (and don't tell me it was less tenuous six months ago) Della couldn't keep his dick in his pants? Really? And if that was just to hard (sorry) he couldn't have shown a little bit more discretion?

Hell, those couches in Parliament House sure to earn their keep don't they?

Instead, we have a government quite happy to act like it is in opposition, filling its days with factional in-fighting, back-stabbing and dirty tricks. Instead of fixing our public transport woes, traffic congestion, decline in regional investment, ensuring we have world best practice public education and health systems we have a group of individuals wrestling around in mud for the inglorious prize of power. Over what? Another group of individuals more conservative or more left than themselves?

John Della Bosca was a remarkable senior government minister. Whatever portfolio he was responsible for he ensured all wheels were firmly on the cart and all extremities firmly within the vehicle. He understood the responsibility of being a politician and got the job done.

And now, at a time when he may well have been set to run our state - and been about the only one capable to to pull it out of the quagmire his predecessors have driven it into - he couldn't keep his dick in his pants.

Some favourites

2009-08-26T11:27:00.003+10:00

Addicted to: Overheard in the Newsroom

Major (and long standing) girl crush: Annabel Crabb

Seriously, she could simply rewrite Spandau Ballet lyrics and I would adore her.

Loving: Meet me at Mikes

Not only is Pip a bloody legend, she's PROLIFIC.

Perusing: The (magazine) Inside Out's blog and all the linky love it gives you

Imagining: All the things I could do with products from this company.

Kitchen splashbacks, wall art, concrete

Reading: My first ever David Sedaris book - When you are engulfed in flames

I always wanted to read his stuff but when I'd get to the bookshop would either forget his name completely or think Neil Sedaka, knowing that just couldn't be right. Because of this, his latest piece in The New Yorker is just delightful.

Enjoying: Speaking of Daylesford, the latest Victoria Tourism ad for Daylesford.

Yes it's getting a ridiculous amount of airplay but it's just so evocative and Victoria Tourism campaigns shit all over those from other states in this country.

Cooking: A number of things from the Homemade cookbook, some old favourites and some new ones - like the self-saucing sticky date and pecan pudding I found in Campion and Curtis' In the Kitchen tome.

Surprised: By how much I am enjoying ~~teaching~~ helping my ESL mature-aged student with her English for university assignments and workplace correspondence.

Planning: To start my first little foray into crafting - making mobiles and wall-hangings out of images from my ~~piles~~ library of food magazines.

New favourite

2009-08-24T21:30:00.001+10:00