Tag Archives: life

happy moments

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Lots of lovely happy moments this week.

Getting caught in a quick Autumn storm.

Unwrapping boxes sent to me from kind friends and kind chefs.

Wearing earrings bought from Lilac and Snow for the QLD Relief Auction, that every time I put them on, it jump starts the happy again. I love these little earrings to bits.

No one is sick. Little Monkey is healing and his pain is a lot better.

Reinterpreting old classics. Did you know one of the three bears nearly fell into his bowl of porridge?

Restoring dinner with girlfriends.

Super star kind friends who cook extra and drop off multiple meals.

Arm and toe dancing with Little Monkey to chunky guitar music cranked up way too loud.

What happy moments have you had this week?

chai and raindrops

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Looking out at the fat rain drops quickly soaking my washing on the line. I was thinking two things. One, well that was a really bad call. Apparently it wasn’t going to fine up and the washing would not be ok to put out as I had confidently told Mr Chocolate. Two, how can a man with just a slight raise of the eyebrow say so many things, namely… I told you so, so easily?

Actually make it three… how do those raindrops get so big?

It’s been a bit of a tiring week.

There has been a lot of comfort taken in that green tea cup filled with chai this week. The dangling tea infuser is one of those little things that I enjoy filling and then quietly plopping it into hot water. Watching the water slowly change colour. A tiny thing where it’s as much about the process as it is the taste.

It’s a warm hug in a tea cup.

A double hip spica cast on a 2 year old is not fun. A double hip spica cast on a 2 year old, that is still getting pain and muscle spasming constantly is not fun. It’s also not fun when he gets a rip roaring virus on top of that, which sends him back to Emergency and with high temperatures for days on end.

Counting down the days until I see the skin of my boy’s little legs again.

I’m looking forward to easter, as that’s when those little legs should be showing again. Looking forward to seeing his little legs run around looking for tiny chocolate eggs in a garden. Temperatures will be gone, cast will be gone, and Mama should have some terribly well toned biceps from carrying the not so Little Monkey around.

 

home

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traction

who knew little diggers could do the 'Hokey Pokey' and turn around

 

Amazement

for the boy who has handled being flat on his back attached to a bed, in pain. not able to move, and now with a body cast.

Thankful

to the boy who still wanted to play hide and seek despite these restrictions. Making me laugh so hard when it was his turn to hide.

Feeling lucky

for living somewhere that is so very close to a Children’s Hospital. Not having to travel hours

and hours to get there as some parents  have to, and that his little leg will heal.

Gratitude

for the family and friends who have helped out with entertainment, food and logistical problems of the last week. Thank you.

Glad

for sushi, mobile phones, hospital arm chairs to sleep beside little people beds, dark almond chocolate, loving big brothers, accessible pain relief and healthy takeaway.

 

Now to get through the next 6 weeks with as much love and patience as we can give to our unmoving hip spica plaster cast 2 year old little boy.

*******

* Things might be a little quiet around here for awhile. I’ve got a few draft posts that I will pop up, and I will still be reading a little bit, but comments might be few. Thanks everyone for your concern and kind words though. XX

sounds better singing twinkle twinkle little star at home

double hip spica that starts just below the under arms going down both legs to the ankles

the week that was

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The week that was.

My brain is a little scrambled this week. Flitting from one side to the other, one idea bouncing to the next.

I’ve got creative energy to burn but not sure where to direct it.

Maybe it’s because of  Valentines Day looming, and a new transition period for us. I feel an overwhelming love for my boys and Mr Chocolate at the moment, that seems so big I just want to squeeze them until they beg to be unsquashed.

Monkey Boy started school. He was fine. Little Monkey and I ran around like crazy people doing 101 things in between drop off and pick up time. Seeing Monkey Boy grin from ear to ear as he waves goodbye to us, tramping his way up to the classroom. Seeing that same grinning smile as he rounds the corner to be picked up in the afternoons. The whole transition is certainly made easier by seeing him so happy.

Contentment in a cup of chai tea.

I over heard an older kid in the playground declare to his friend that he was a “common nerd” for not being able to climb a tree properly. He then proceeded to show his friend how it was supposed to be done. This still makes me chuckle two days later.

Mr Chocolate working too much. Showing him some love by making ham and egg pizza.

A wobbly tooth.

Rainy Saturdays with The Monkeys, spent making, glueing, cutting, taping, and creating. Not giving a hoot about the mess that lay trailed behind them.

Breathing in and breathing out. Ready to start again…

What’s been happening in your week?

he’s unfurling

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I think Monkey Boy is unfurling. Actually I know he is.

Not a day goes by, that he doesn’t say something that stops me in my tracks and making me turn my head to listen, really listen to him. I can’t keep up with the rate his brain is racing at. Some where along the lines he’s leaving the baby boy behind and turning into a real boy.

Questions that make me stop and consider my answers. Not answers easily rolling off my tongue, as say the wrong thing and I know it will be back to bite me.

He unfurls a little more.

Seemingly uninterested in a conversation he will come back hours after, having considered every part and now has come up with his own conclusion.

He told us recently in a matter-of-fact tone, he didn’t want to be bothered by dying. He really loved our family, and that every one should eat a good diet to be as healthy as possible, so we could live as long as possible.

Those bread rolls look really tasty in the cake shop but Mama your’s are a lot better for us, so we should eat them.

The other day he saw a man on a push scooter. We were both excited by it as it was different to the usual kinds. He thought about it and then said…” when the man’s finished with his scooter and doesn’t want it any more, maybe he will leave it on the street and then we can have it. Then we move, we can leave our other scooters that we don’t need anymore on the street for someone who needs them too. Do you think that’s a good idea?”

I think that’s a great idea.

He’s reading and doing simple maths. They both suddenly clicked and I am so glad I’m there to see it. Watching it all suddenly make sense. Seeing that twinkle in his eye and excitement wash over his face when he realises he can work things out for himself. Not because he’s been made to, but because he wants to.

Makes my heart swell with love, pride and so many other emotions that I dare to pack into it…

This week he starts school. Looking so proud in his new uniform, his excitement is contagious.

He’s getting ready to unfurl just a little more.

a little sunshine in your Sunflower Bread

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You know when you see someone, and all you want to do is pass them on a little sunshine. A little tiny something that might brighten their day?

In two occasions recently I would have happily passed on some sunshine to a little old lady. Rather, two little old ladies.

The first one, just last week. The Monkeys and I were headed to the Post Office. A parcel to be picked up, for an excited Monkey Boy. Outside the Post Office sat two massage chairs. The kind that you see in shopping malls or airports. You place $2 in and get about 10 minutes massage from the vibrating chair. Sitting in the black massage chair sat a little old lady. A fragile looking thing, dressed in many layers despite the warmth of the day. She looked like she had dressed up for her shopping outing. With her necklace wound around her neck, and earrings clasped to her ear lobes. She clutched an oversized shopping bag. Awkwardly holding it close to her chest, head tilted down.

She was asleep. Fast asleep. Obviously that massage was very relaxing as she had dozed off quite comfortably. The boys and I kept going, collected our package, lingered a little in a few shops and then passed her again a little while later. Slumped even lower in her black massage chair, mouth opened slightly. I paused a second. Firstly just to watch her chest rise and fall, and then secondly to appreciate that, no she seemed fine. It was just a different place for a nod off. I wanted to place a blanket on her lap, put my hand on her shoulder, see if she was ok. But I also didn’t want to disturb her.

She really did seem so peacefully asleep.

The second was a few months ago. The Monkeys and I were at the playground. Nobody else was there and they were having a lovely play. Time to finish off and we gathered up our things. As we were collecting everything I noticed in the distance, an elderly lady making her way towards the playground. She had a limp, but it seemed that she was hurrying. The boys and I collected our things, loaded up the pram and headed to the gate. At the same time, the lady reached the gate. As she had got closer, I had really noticed she was hurrying. I opened the gate for her and then shuffled the boys out. The old lady was now alone in the enclosed quiet playground. She looked at me, her face visibly fell, and she slowly limped her way to a seat. It suddenly dawned on me that she had been hurrying to get to us. Presumably for some interaction with the kids. I watched her awkwardly place herself on the park bench looking dejected, all I wanted to do was go back in and send the kids back to clamber around her. We had to go though, we had to get home. So I left that little old lady with the limp to sit there and wait for another child to come to the playground…and it’s tugged at me ever since.

Sunshine Sunflower Bread

(adapted from The Bourke Street Bakery Cookbook)

600gms strong bakers flour

2 tps dried yeast

400mls water

3 tbls olive oil

2 tps salt

extra- cherry tomatoes, chopped fresh rosemary, salt

Pop all ingredients in to mixer, and mix until throughly combined (approximately 5 minutes, until dough is smooth.) Quick knead and pop the dough back in the  mixing bowl, leaving it to prove. Prove for 1.5 hours with two folds in between at the 30 minute marks.

To get the sunflower shape. Divide dough, cutting approximately 1/3 off. Shape it into a circle, flatten slightly and rest in the middle of the tray. Divide the remaining dough into equal parts. Rolling to fat sausage lengths, joining them  to the circle and lightly twisting around. Don’t make it super tight as it will expand when it proves. Let it prove for a further 20 minutes and then place your tomatoes and rosemary in the dough. Pushing down into the dough, so the tomatoes won’t pop out when cooked.  Prove for another 10 minutes. Grind sea salt over the top and place in a hot oven (250C) with steam.

Notes… This olive oil bread recipe is really versatile. I’ve used it quite a few times now, like the Rosemary and Sea salt Grissini. It’s fairly forgiving so you can shape it into anything you want. The Sunshine Sunflower Bread was inspired by the lovely Joanna’s bread. Which made me stop, smile, and brought sunshine to my day.

 

This post submitted to Yeastspotting.


should you curb your passion?

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P A S S I O N

1/ any powerful or compelling emotion or feeling, as love or hate.

2/ a strong or extravagant fondness, enthusiasm, or desire for anything: a passion for the environment.

3/ an outburst of strong emotion or feeling: He suddenly broke into a passion of bitter words.

antonym- Apathy

****

This topic has been springing up in my mind quite frequently lately …. Should you curb your passion?

Australians are re-known for “She’ll be right mate, no worries” sort of attitude. Most of the time I love this way of thinking. Not really hyper, not overly angsty and not running about like your heads fallen off. Conversations are held in quiet non committed manners in which the part takers leave feeling contented, feelings intact and not a raised voice to be heard (now I am over generalising here, I know….)

If someone starts speaking up about a particular topic in a manner that is strong and adamant, Australians get a little uncomfortable. Whats her problem?… He’s a bit of a nutter. People take a quiet step backwards, and retreat to a safe distance.

A lot of people, (me included at times), like to make a statement and end it with a question. Or just use some intonation that makes them sound like they are questioning something, even if its their own statement they have just said. This leaves the possibility of other options open. Not standing by the statement they have just said, as nervous that they might offend someone. We come across as a very obliging and friendly country because of this.

As a consequence going to a country like Italy, or any other Mediterranean country and it may seem like everyone is yelling at each other. Two people discussing yesterdays football scores, but to an outsider not speaking the language, it looks like a domestic dispute of biblical proportions. Arms waving, voices clamouring to be heard, only to end with a kiss on either cheek and a cheery wave goodbye.

Here, we do things differently though. Passion seems to quite often have had a lid put on it. I don’t want the only time you see an Australian really passionate about something is when they are talking about rugby or cricket and alcohol.

So with that in mind, it got me thinking. When you feel really strongly about something both positively and negatively do you comfortably voice that opinion/ feelings? I am very passionate in my feelings towards food, useless cheap plastic toys, pregnancy/birth, environmental issues and many more. Its hard sometimes biting my tongue, (until there are teeth indentations in there) and letting statements slide as the other party either has opposing opinions, not expecting a counter attack (as that’s how it may come across), or have no concept of my way of thinking.

How often do you let it slide before you are not only cheating yourself but almost doing the other person a dis-service by not voicing your opinion and letting your thoughts known.

I like to think I can respect other people’s feelings, try to reflect and see things from other people’s views and I certainly don’t want to offend people by me putting my thoughts and opinions out there. However I find so many people like to keep conversation ‘fluffy’, not wanting to explore thoughts any further and not challenge at all. Habits are kept that are easy to keep up. Support things that the majority do. ie. rugby, complaining about rain, and conversations are kept at an ‘acceptable’ level.

I know there is a time and a place for everything. Buying milk at the corner store, with kids in tow, is probably not the time to be explaining to the shop keeper of my thoughts on plastic bags, I know that. However when I see someone really talking about what they feel passionate about, I can’t help but feel enthused by it. I might not agree, but I really do love the fact that they feel so passionate about the subject. Bring it back to food again and I’m in heaven.

There are a whole string of people both in real life and media that have inspired me over the years through nothing but contagious enthusiasm for something they have felt passionate about.

Being a blogger I am exposed to many wonderful blogs that show so many enthusiastic souls out there doing what comes across as things they love, and telling the world about it. My dad was passionate in hating one of our past prime ministers, I wasn’t put off by his raised voice and throbbing veins in his neck at the mere mention of his name- rather entertained that someone could feel so much for someone he had never met.

In recent years celebrity chefs have taken over the world. Jamie Oliver is pretty much a household name. Why do people like him? Because he’s passionate. That true love of his shows. A good example of this is his recent committment to his Food Revolution, surely he wouldn’t do it unless he was nothing less than 100% passionate about what he was doing?

“Nothing great in the world has ever been accomplished without passion” – Christian Friedrich Hebbel

So should you curb your passion?…I don’t think so. Maybe contain it a little sometimes when needed, try not to let ego involved, but otherwise let it run free. Find out what’s important to you and have an opinion.

Apathy doesn’t change things, doesn’t get people involved, and it certainly doesn’t inspire.

Passion does.

So bring on that passion, and let me hear it.

What do you feel passionate about?

Follow on effects

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I was thinking the other day about how a person can be effected by what ever they are watching on TV or a computer. Musing about how the effects may be so subtle that the person may not even be aware that it has had an effect. Obviously it depends on the programme, type of person, circumstances etc etc. But on a basic level, how could you not be effected after watching a programme for an hour?

Three examples came to mind.

Monkey Boy after watching a children’s programme, promptly leapt off the couch when the Tv was turned off, and ran into a bedroom. Out he flew again, with a blanket draped around his shoulders, flying off to save somebody in need of rescuing. I had vaguely been aware that they had been talking about superheros on the TV, and now I had my very own little superhero dashing about, helping any needy children in his path. This I thought was sweet. He hadn’t been watching for that long, and the superhero theme stayed on and off for the rest of the week… What do you think Superhero’s eat for lunch Mama?

Notching up a few more years, there is a certain teenager in my life that loves to play warcraft computer games. Too me its boring, repetitive, antisocial, violent…etc etc…To him I’m an old bugger that just doesn’t ‘get’ it. I’ve tried to look at it from his perspective, but I still struggle. Why would I want to pretend to kill a lot of people? After an hour of killing, maiming and hunting other cyber people, how could I not be effected by it? I’m not saying replicating the exact same behaviour, but even minor changes such as being a little more antagonistic, quick tempered, and anti social. All these things have an effect, especially if they were being played for long periods of time and frequently. Could a person really play something like that for extended times, and then instantly flick over to be all sweetness and light?

That’s not to say I’m all sweetness and light myself.

The Wire is a programme that I really like. The box set, with all 5 seasons sits comfortably in our lounge room. It’s well written, it’s adult, it’s clever, and it’s intriguing. I don’t want to be a policewoman after I watch it, and I don’t want to be a drug lord… I do however have quite the ‘potty’ mouth after watching it. Words just sort of slip out a lot easier after watching an episode. The Monkeys are in bed, so they don’t hear anything that they shouldn’t be and 20 minutes later my saintly words are back in my mouth where they belong. Right back to be the sweetness and light that I usually am.

Similar things could be said about reading books. If you are reading a little Shakespeare before bedtime, will a few words of “doth”, “hast”, “hither” and “thee” slip in before switching off the light?…Goodnight my beloved, where for out thy pillow, sleep be upon me as I shall be wanting to rise in the morrow, and bake a morning crust….

…or some such words.

Just as any of these similar scenarios could be seen as detrimental, they also could be seen as a positive and do nothing more than inspire and provoke greatness in people. A book that prompts a best selling writer. A reality cooking show prompting a child to become a successful chef. Or simple blog reaching out to someone, encouraging them to do humanitarian work in a needy country.

No words of wisdom here with this topic unfortunately, just merely musing…

How does watching TV or reading effect your language or behaviour?

The art of conversation

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When was the last time you had a good conversation? I mean a really good conversation.

What makes a good conversation? This really depends on the person or people who are talking. Everyone’s ideal could be completely different. You can do courses, read books, go to seminars, and practice practice practice until your tongue is bleeding and ears are throbbing, yet still conversation can be tricky at times for some people.

My conversation skills went down the gurgler after I became a mum. My husband was working long hours, my at home conversation was limited to baby/ toddler talk, and when I did meet up with other parents. Conversation was always peppered with “Watch out.”  “Hang on”. “Not so many.” “Turn around.” “Are you ok?” “Poo?” “Oh we have to go now.” Times that by two if you are conversing with one other parent, times by three if there are three of you etc etc. Conversations are left hanging, statements are left unchallenged and you just do the best you can in the crucial few seconds you get together to talk.

At home, husband gets back knackered from work, you are so starved of adult conversation- so blurt out a whole days worth of stored up conversations from your head in the space of one minute. Words roll out quicker than a toilet stop in an Indian street diner. Kids haven’t seen Dad all day and excitedly do the same.

Public speaking? I would  rather eat my own elbow… At no point has public speaking been a comfortable place. I know for a lot of people public speaking can be tricky. Sweaty palms, talking too quietly, talking too fast, fidgety fingers, saying the wrong things, mental blanks…

Mental blanks, now there is something that went hand in hand for me on becoming a Mama. Along with being starved of adult conversation, your brain turns to mush. No really it does. Those lovely hormones rolling around your body that let you concentrate on making this baby and then bonding with this baby when born, turn everything else to mush. Anything not crucial and to do with that babies welfare gets pushed to the side lines waiting to be retrieved when ever possible at a later date. It could be weeks, months or even years before those brain cells make their way back to where they can be used again. Frequently I would be conversing, saying something I felt really passionate about, I had the floor, the attention was mine and…. I would forget.

Just like that. Mid sentence and my thoughts have fled. No idea what so ever in what I was talking about. That’s fine if you are with another brain-cell-on-holidays mama that can identify with it as she has had her own fair share of cell withdrawals, but for someone that hasn’t had this happen, they look at you like you are quite nutty. How the hell can you forget what you are talking about when YOU are the one talking?? Sometimes I found it really frustrating, but the second time around, I just thought… ah, well…next time….wonder what I was talking about?…oh what a cute little baby he is.

My hat certainly gets taken off to any parent that can be sleep deprived, breastfeeding, juggling older kids and still able to hold their own in a corporate meeting, engage in conversation about up to date world politics or competantly do anything that involves words longer than milk and poo.

It came to a point when I was in a social setting where I had been so starved of conversation for a period, that I put about a months worth of words into the space of 20 minutes. My tongue was on speed and it wasn’t pretty. I left the gathering exhausted and thinking, “What the hell was that!!”

Vowing not to let that happen again, I slowed down. I listened, really listened, I thought about what I was going to say, I reflected and then responded.

It made a difference. Suddenly conversations were easier again. I didn’t have to blurt everything out in seconds, scared that this was my only chance to voice my thoughts while The Monkeys were distracted and I had someones attention. And if I do forget to say something, or get distracted or just simply think of something else to add, well this is where the wonders of technology come in, I can text, email or phone my add ins. As The Monkeys get older, the brain cells are slowly making their way back to an almost functioning level of competence. It sneaks up on me, as I excitedly realise that I just managed a WHOLE conversation, remembered what I was talking about, didn’t get interrupted by kids, and engaged in a discussion….

…and I like that.

Recalibrated

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There are some things in life that just make me sit back, take a big outward breath and smile. There are some things that always make me feel like this and some things that take me by complete surprise. With that big deep breath taken, all momentary worries are gone. All stresses have been shelved and happiness raises its sunny head. It can be so brief, but with that moment taken, everything gets recalibrated.

The monkeys are going mental and the very average morning looks like its dragging into a very average long day. Then with the tiny few words of Monkey Boy saying something completely out of the blue. It stops me. That breath is deeper, actually filling my lungs, I smile, and everything gets re-aligned. Completely changing the rest of the days attitude.

Black cockatoos do it too. From a young child these beautiful birds seem to have had a spell over me. They are flying over head at dusk, looking for a place to rest for the night. Their slow and deep cry speaks to me. Stops me in my tracks, pulling my eyes towards them, watching their slow flight over head. That mournful cry, tugs at me. Making me smile… re-calibrated again.

The simple process of making bread at the moment is what I feel I need to do. The process of making, baking and then eating such a simple thing, really gives me a lot of pleasure. The simple tastes of freshly made bread, butter and my own jam. Can make a hungry stomach, a happy one with just one bite. With just a few mouthfuls, energy re-stored, mind re-aligned and city hippy farm girl re-calibrated once again.

Turkish Bread

Turkish Bread

* adapted from sbs Food Safari recipe

1 tbs dried yeast

pinch of caster sugar

375 ml warm water
480 g strong bread flour
1 teaspoon salt
60 ml extra-virgin olive oil
1 egg
50 ml milk
sesame seeds

Dissolve the yeast and sugar in 125 ml of the warm water and set aside in a warm place for about 10 minutes until frothy. Use your fingers to work 90g of the flour into the yeast to make a sloppy paste. Sprinkle lightly with a little more flour, then cover with a tea towel and set aside in a warm place for 30 minutes to form a ‘sponge’.

Put the remaining flour and the salt into a large bowl. Make a well in the centre and add the sponge, oil and remaining water. Use your fingers to work it to a soft, sloppy dough. Should be quite sticky.

In a mixer with a dough hook, on a low speed for 10–15 minutes until very smooth and springy. Transfer to a lightly oiled bowl, then cover with a damp tea towel and leave to rest at room temperature for 1 hour or until doubled in size.

Preheat the oven to its highest setting. Divide the dough in two, then form into rounds and leave, covered, to rest for 30 minutes. Mix the eggs and milk to make an egg wash. Place the dough on a lightly floured work surface. Use the heels of your hands to press and flatten each piece of dough out to a 20 cm oval.

Brush the surface liberally with the egg wash. Dip your fingertips into the egg wash and mark rows of deep indentations across and down the length of the dough, leaving a narrow border.  Sprinkle with nigella or sesame seeds and bake for 8–10 minutes until crisp and golden brown.

so High Tea

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High Tea. Just the words bring lovely images to mind. Those cute little sandwiches, those fluffy scones, and sweet little cakes up the top.

What to do when a good friend is returning back to her home country. How do you say goodbye?…. Well saying goodbye in style is a good start, and high tea at The Observatory Hotel, Sydney just might be the place to do it.

Its Mothers Day and a few other people have thought it might be a nice idea to have high tea at the hotel as well. So they have upped the price and moved people around their two rooms used for dining. Now they were a little cheeky in that it is advertised as $49 for high tea, a booking was made at this price. Then my friend who had made the booking was contacted and told that seeing as though it was a special occasion there would be a price increase to $79 would we still like to keep the booking? Yes, yes, we will still be there. Then on arrival, right down the bottom of the menu is $89 for high Tea. A little cheeky yes, were we going to do anything about it?..No. A girly afternoon with out kids, this doesn’t happen often…. no indeedy not often at all.

The room we are in is lovely with murals on the walls, and tables not squashed together. A glass of sparkling wine starts us off, and a selection of 6 different teas is offered. The 3 tiered high tea comes out and it does look really inviting.

The sandwiches are small and daintily cut, the mini quiche lorraine buttery and melt in your mouth. The scones I thought a little on the small side but they were light and tasted good. The strawberry jam chunky, and the cream… well the cream has a couple of long fibres in it. I say fibres in the hope they weren’t hairs. Because I sure as hell don’t want hair in my $89 high tea cream!

The cakes were daintily presented, with the creme brulee being a stand out. The pannacotta was a lost cause- insipid tasting, with a watery strawberry sauce on top. Overall the presentation was elegant and restrained as I would expect a five star hotel high tea. I didn’t expect a big chip in my teapot, and I have to say it did detract… just a little.

The Observatory Hotel
89-113 Kent Street
Sydney
02 9256 2222
www.observatoryhotel.com.au