Green Eggs and Ham

I've already used Green Eggs and Ham as a post title. So I'm using it again because otherwise I will get stuck and not be able to post anything.

On Saturday I decided to bake a ham for dinner, mostly for the joy of leftovers and ham bones in soup or sauerkraut. So on Sunday morning, naturally, we had to have an omelette (or frittata or whatever you want to call it) with leftover ham, leftover roast spuds and eggs from the Community Garden chooks. The eggs were so searingly yellow the omelette looked dangerous. But I'm still alive.

On Sunday Andrew decided we had to be tourists and check out Newington Armory (not that he works for the Minister for the Arts or anything). There was a great exhibition of Chinese propaganda posters, plus artwork by Chinese artists and artists working to a Chinese theme. Andrew and I bought about $100K worth of art. In our heads. I've worked out that this is why you need a BIG house with lots of white walls - for all that wonderful ART out there.

Mary Poppins

Really, there is nothing much to say. Life is the usual mundane series of chores - work, laundry, cooking - with the occasional episode of Dr Who to give Phoebe nightmares. Holden is now on holidays, interspersed with birthday parties (two in four days). He went to one on Friday after school, up at Bellevue Hill. The front entranceway of the house was probably bigger than the whole block we live on here. The harbour views were pretty spectacular. But you know what? The kid's mother was wearing a suit (no doubt with a serious label) that looked like it was made from Mary Poppins' carpetbag. I have to take consolation where I can.

La Vie en Rose

I am sick. I suspect one of my lovely offspring gave me the virus. I don't have any dramatic or impressive symptoms - no lost voice, or consumptive coughing, for instance - all I have is a permanent headache, dizziness and pain all over my body.

So I've been lying around at home, trying to get a bit of work done, trying to relax and recuperate (ha). In a fit of productivity on Wednesday(lying in bed), I managed to finish this beret for Phoebe, knit from hand-dyed silk yarn. She wants a flower on the front of it now.


Every winter Andrew has an extended sulk about the fact that I never knit him anything. Every winter I start something but either lose interest, or discover I don't have enough wool, or decide I hate the pattern. This year we agreed on a pattern and I ordered wool but I am very unimpressed as it's been EIGHT days and it still hasn't arrived. I should add that it's a place in Victoria - if shoes from the US can arrive in five days, wool from Bendigo should arrive in TWO, I think. By the time the damn stuff gets here, I probably will have lost interest again.

Mrs Doubtfire

On Friday evening, midway through my baking fiesta, I got a phone call telling me about a job — a very good job that would pay quite a lot of money. It would also be a career sort of a job, and possibly quite fun. I thought about it for a while. I thought about the mad dash in the mornings, and never getting home before 7pm. I thought about Phoebe going to before and after school care five days a week, and Holden being a full-time latchkey kid. And I decided not to pursue it. Maybe I just lack ambition.

Andrew and I talked about it too, about how the only way we could do it would be to hire a housekeeper/nanny. I have to say that the thought of someone else doing ALL the house stuff was very attractive …

On the weekend, there was a funny incident involving Andrew making rude comments about a parent from Hol’s school being unable to drive his extremely flashy, extremely ugly Roller. Apparently the person in question is none other than Mr Payout, and his son is in Hol’s year.

No wonder Hol said he wouldn’t mind if we had a nicer car. So I told the kids about the possible job, like this - "We can have a less embarrassing car, maybe a better house, but you will never see me and you will be looked after by a nanny. What do you think?" They voted for me. Maybe they lack ambition too.

Like Water for Chocolate

See, the brownies got made. Phoebe and Finlay very helpfully licked the bowl and the utensils for me. Andrew sulked because he wasn't allowed to eat any of them. I did make the cranberry shortbread and the cheese biscuits too (that's quince paste waiting for them) but by the time that was all done (plus cooking a couple of meals in between) I had lost interest in taking photos.

This morning poor Miss Phoebe is sick, so she miserably trailed up to the cake stall with me but we didn't stay very long. Apparently someone bought all my quince paste after we left. Just as well I had set some aside for all the subscribers ...

It's cold today (for Sydney), so I think tonight I must cook something that takes hours and warms up the house. Andrew has his eye on a twice cooked veal shanks recipe that's in the SMH. I think a good old-fashioned steamed pudding for dessert might do the trick.

Friday the 13th

Yes, it's Friday the 13th. Funnily enough, I feel more cheerful than I have in weeks. Must be the fact that I didn't go to a party last night. Or maybe that it's the weekend again and for once I am NOT going to be doing any work, having just sent a book off to press today.

Tomorrow there's a school cake stall, so Phoebe wants to bake brownies this afternoon. I think I might also do a banana cake, some shortbread and some cheese biscuits ...

First I might have to finish some work, since it's not actually the weekend YET and my inbox is exploding.

The Power and the Glory

Or neither. I realised about an hour ago that an electrical circuit in the house had blown. So I did all the usual things - turned off the power, disconnected everything, pulled out nasty dangerous old ceramic fuses at great risk to life and limb and checked the wire, called my friend Phil for advice, swore a bit, etc. Still nothing. Of course, it's not a circuit with WORK attached to it, just washing machine, dryer, dishwasher, fridge, microwave, oven ...

I rang the landlord, who would rather poke needles in his eye than ever spend a cent on this dump. Naturally he didn't believe that I had tried to isolate the problem, so we went through the WHOLE process again. Still no joy.

Apparently he's going to call an electrician. What's the bets that we end the day with a fridgeful of warm food, wet school uniforms in the dryer (yes, it's raining!) and a dishwasherful of dishes to handwash. Sigh.

Groundhog Day

Turns out Bill Murray is a bit psycho. Imagine that, a comedian who is slightly nuts ...

We made the kids watch Groundhog Day last weekend. And then I woke up yesterday morning and it all unfolded the same way - the weekends are all one indistinguishable routine of cooking, cleaning, soccer games, ironing and children running in and out of the house, plus a bit of work (or in Andrew's case this weekend, a LOT of work). Ho hum.

BUT I finally finished the first quilt I've ever made. It's not very good, but it's DONE. And that's what counts. Tomorrow it will be posted to its new owner, the very cute Abby, who I can't find a recent picture of.


And I did make five dozen choc chip cookies and a batch of quince paste, so I suppose it wasn't a total waste of time.

Chinatown

On Wednesday night, Phoebe had a performance at the Seymour Centre - her school's junior dance group were chosen as part of some Sydney regional thing ... So here is the China Doll, all ready to go. It was surprisingly enjoyable (we only had to stay an hour) and Phoebe was ecstatic because she overcame her stage fright.