little grubby hands
new kitchenware that makes me feel very adult like- oh to have size options
bottle brush, flowering everywhere at the moment
strawberries, and lots of them
red
14
Category Archives: Rambles, Waffles and Digressions
my petite kitchen
Bonjour mon cher, bonjour…
Now not knowing more than a smattering of french words, I should probably leave it at that, but due to the fact that in recent times it seems I’ve come over all ‘frenchy‘, I will probably see if I can slip just a little more french words into this post.
And what caused all this ‘frenchness‘ I hear you ask? Actually, I’m not sure. I still have a deep love for all things Italian. I still have an imagined Scandinavian heritage, and now, well it seems there is a heady French call, (at least in my petite kitchen there is.)
What to do with this little lovely? Chestnut spread, in a tube and brought to me from Paris. It could be absolute garbage, but not to me. (Look at all those cute little french words on there!)
Petite fleurs, teeny tiny ones that didn’t last long on my usually quite unexciting kitchen bench cactus.
Gateau a la banane with passionfruit icing. Always a simple bake when there are squishy bananas to be had. I make this cake up in a mixer these days.
Parisian flea market finds, bought and brought back for me. I was particularly excited by this one. How many kitchens has this round beauty seen… What had it been used for?
Old milk bottle finds that were sitting unloved in someones garage. I’m preparing the bottles to be loved again…or should I say amour.
************
Linking in with the lovely Madame Celia and her kitchen frolics
Kisses on both cheeks to anyone who leaves comments in French this week.
peddling towards sunlit shores
Pedalling through the still darkened streets, I keep my eye towards the dark grey sky. Just a hint of light, I still had a good while to go before the sun nudged itself over the horizon. The air is cold, it hits my face and bare arms. I think for a moment of everyone still sleeping at home, snuggled in. A warm bed has been given up for the cold and for the grey. A cup of tea in favour of a bicycle.
A bicycle peddling towards sunlit shores…
Was it worth it?
Every second.
a slowing down long weekend
A long weekend where time felt slower,
a cat not quite like any other was met
taste test of some the finest biscuits and macarons I’ve ever tasted
breathing in the sea air
and Grandma’s beautiful flowers, in a sprawl of pink.
***********
Have a good week people.
a tiny garden of hope
There’s a warmth to the early morning air already, and a soft hum of distant traffic. The buzzing of a far off hovering helicopter, is balanced out by the squarks of the overhead parrots starting their day, shrieking from branch to branch.
A stillness to the air, that is appreciated and quietly charges me.
A sleepy sun begins a slow climb upwards, wet washing gets pegged out and plants watered, ready for the heat of the day.
The pause, a moment. A flick off of a reluctant caterpillar. There’s hope in this tiny garden of mine. Tiny bubbles of hope, that at 6am I can feel sitting around me. Hope in more forms than I can count. I like it, in fact I love it. It feels sometime since I had taken the time to fully absorb the morning in my tiny potted garden. Perhaps even some time since I had truly taken in those bubbles of hope.
The kettle has boiled, there is a pot of chai tea waiting inside. Precious minutes, before thoughts are returned to someone or something else for the day.
Maybe just one more moment, with my tiny garden of hope.
popping at the end of the week
It’s our end of the week tradition.
Friday afternoon means popcorn.
No maths, no spelling, no fighting (please).
No place to be but here,
with a bowl full of still warm popcorn.
A tiny end of the week celebration in the form of some golden dried corn kernels that miraculously turn light and white when heated. (Am I the only one that finds that rather amazing?)
polite little children can turn into popcorn savages if unsupervised
guarded remains
late afternoon
Afternoons, when the sun goes down just a little later
two boys on bikes whizz by
I lay in the grass, breathing in the earths smell, only a second or two
until two little legs land with a plop on my back
Hoss mama, hoss! The obligatory horse ride, the giggles
the whizz by again on the two bikes
laughing, and concentration as they get used to their new wheels beneath them
a grassy pile is gathered up on the small of my back
I lay still while she concentrates so very carefully,
continues and then in a green flurry she’s gone
whisked high up into the air by strong trusted hands
giggling again as she lands on his shoulders
the bikes slowly peddle homeward, the infectious giggles continue
and the sun drops that bit lower,
late afternoon
it’s time to go home.
anticipation and spring
I flicked the calendar page over. September…spring.
A turn of a new page and suddenly there was new beginnings, a sense of anticipation. There are a few things happening in September for me and I like it, I’ve loved the build up. The quiet non chalence of the months before, knowing that time never stands still and things will always roll on was kind of lovely to think of. A feeling that helped ground me a little when things felt all too much. Now Spring is here, her sunny days and all of her, well… sunny expectancy.
Yes, maybe that’s how I’m seeing September.
All of September.
With a little anticipation and a little sunny expectancy.
loving… talented and passionate people
I think…rather a lot. Sometimes probably a little too much, (and some times not often enough) but this week I’ve been thinking about some amazingly talented people, and truly loving the passion that they spread on to others near by.
Loving beautiful books that come in the mail. If Kate’s words and wonderful pictures don’t make you want to go retro caravaning around the place, I don’t know what will. The sweetest, loveliest book.
Loving this music video clip. It makes me smile, it transfixes my little people and makes me happy to say I know this talented man. Live vocal looping is not something that many people have heard of, in a nutshell it’s layer upon layer of music coming from his voice, (not one instrument and all performed live.) Larry T Hill is also pretty amazing for having hitch hiked 28,000km last year around the country, has an upcoming sailing trip to Sri Lanka, and an enthusiasm or passion for life that is pretty much unrivaled. This is the man who helped bumped me into the blogosphere, (and he’s also my cousin-yay!)
Loving Milkwood’s new video. Not a lot else to say except…it’s awesome, and they are awesome, and you’d be mad not to do a course through them if it’s at all possible.
Three snapshots of three very different people showing a little part of how very talented and passionate they all are, doing what they do best.
Loving that.
*************
How about you? Want to share a talented and passionate person with me?
“Often life’s pleasures pass us by simply because we don’t take a moment to focus on them… Make a point of noticing everyday something that uplifts your spirit or tickles your heart… Stop to breathe in the joy of this moment and then tell someone about it. Share your joy and revel in it. When your joy is savoured, and then shared, it is magnified…” ROBIN GRILLE
flecks of gold
a wintery afternoon light,
which always makes things look just a little more bright
organic face paint that creates instant tiger cubs,
growling and snarling, ready to bite
gingery beer with bubbles a plenty,
glasses filled up and eager hands reaching
sourdough loaves with crisses and crosses
and golden anzac biscuits cooling on a tray,
just moments before a tiny hand sneaks up
to take one away.
a hint of spring
there’s a hint of spring in the air
a wattles scent being thrown out into the wind
enough to catch me and stop
hopeful blueberry flowers
delicately sitting on tiny branches
and the punks of the park
they know spring is coming
a hint of it anyway
A Rueben Sandwich and for the love of all things German
For ten months we kicked it. Not gentle nudges with our toes but BAM, BAM, BAM. Horse kicks they were, kind of like The Fonz from Happy Days getting his juke box started but in a far more threatening manner. It was the only way. The Macine wouldn’t start otherwise and we still needed to do washing. So that’s how each load of washing would start. A firm kick (or twenty) to the door and we were away.
I knew we were doing things a little differently when playing out in the courtyard one afternoon, a little baby leg swung towards our washing machine as she went passed. It’s what she had always seen, that’s what you did to washing machines. We kept kicking at it until finally the day came and The Machine wouldn’t cough up my clothing. I tried, I yanked, I pretended I didn’t care. I pressed all the buttons, and left it until the next day. The next day The Machine decided to start again, but not before it had washed the same load for about 3 hours. Given that I could now see what looked like chocolate milk water in there, I seriously doubted whether my machine still held a committment to cleaning my clothes. Finally he coughed open the door, in an over the top Italian soccer player dramatic manner. Pahh! Have your clothes lady!
I silently picked the filthy clothes up, took them back inside and closed the door. Half an hour later I had bought a new machine online, with it being delivered the next day, (benefits of living in a big city).
Now, I had already done all my washing machine research last year when the kicking had begun, I knew what I wanted. I had read all the reviews and had thoroughly crossed my computer eyes, making Mr Chocolate’s ears bleed at the continued conversation over what machine to get. I’d done all of that. I had just been biding my time until The Machine finally died.
9.10am the next day and The German* arrived. Delivered all bright and shiny, and with this would be living inside. Inside! I can’t tell you how exciting that is after 13 years of shared outside laundries. Sure. I don’t have great access to my cooking pots now, BUT I do have a washing machine inside, and if you don’t mind I think I’ll go take my German inspired lunch** and go watch another load go round.
*Bosch
** Ok, so the Rueben Sandwich has got nothing to do with Germany, but it does have sauerkraut in it, and there will be more on that in another post soon.
Vegetarian Reuben Sandwich
sauerkraut
mayonaise
pickles
fried egg
swiss cheese
sourdough
cityhippyfarmgirl 