lemon lime marmalade

 

 

 

Marmalade!

party pinata

Last night I was reminiscing about aspects of my childhood with a teacher friend. We got on to the topic of parties & party food. This friend & I often discuss what children eat, should be eating & what the role of parents is in providing a balanced diet. Until recently my friend's son would not eat vegetables unless they were hidden in a 'chicken rissole' or in another identifable form. For the first time a few weeks ago her boy ate a dragon's tail (asparagus spear) which made him invisible. Yes. Invisible.

It was also through this friend that I learned to relax a little more around my childrens' diets. Whilst I don't want my children to form bad habits around eating sweet food I think it's also important that children are not 'singled out' at parties etc,. and not allowed to eat party food when others do. Like everything it's a parent's job to guide children, place limits & boundaries on food & prepare them for the real world. The real world consists of party food at times so as parents we should guide our children to choose different things from the party food table.

At Easter we had a little party with our local playgroup. I ensured our son took 4 things at a time and finished each mouthful before starting a new food. I also told him he needed a balance of sweet and savoury. Expressing my expectations at the beginning of the party meant that B knew what was expected of him and he ate a balance of sweet and savoury without missing out. Other parents and children didn't notice either so it wasn't embarrassing for anyone.

As it happens we always had a good diet at home. Balanced but also cheap. Our mum usually eats (and ate) vegetarian food - through want and necessity. Meat was, and still is, expensive. Nowadays I try to have at least 3 meat-free dinners a week. I enjoy trying new recipes - as you would have guessed!

Anyway- I have digressed. I started by mentioning children's parties. I was texting this friend the other night and I remembered something about my 7th birthday party. I had my best friends from my class come to my place for my party. There were probably about ten of us. My parents were kind enough to make me my very own pinata. We had a cricket bat to whack it - in the hope that the goodies would spill from it!

Can you imagine my astonishment when it finally broke open.... and we were showered in dried fruit- prunes, apricots - and nuts?!

Lest We Forget

On the 25th April Australia commemorated ANZAC Day with services across the country. ANZAC Day is a day to recognise the sacrifices made by our defence forces and families during war times (in the past and those currently serving). Australia could not be the free country that it is today without them.

It is also a time to reflect on the meaning of war and the need for peace. My mother and I shared a number of stories with each other about our family's contributions to our freedom.

"They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning,

We will remember them."    

The Ode of Remembrance taken from Laurence Binyon's poem "For the Fallen."

Sitting atop a camel this is my My Great Great Uncle Cyril. 

 He was on his way to Gallipoli, from Egypt and last seen alive April 25, 1915. Cyril was 22.

His picture was up on the Lone Pine memorial wall for the ceremony on ANZAC Day.

This is my great great grandfather 'Pongo.' He was a Lighthorseman in the middle-east (Egypt) in World War I. In these early days of photo-shopping he had this photo taken, photo-shopped and sent home to let his beloved know how much he was thinking of her.

My grandfather (left) served in Papua New Guinea during World War II. He was a wireless mechanic. His father, my great grandfather, (right) served in PNG as well and had also served during World War I.

During his time in PNG my grandfather went AWOL for the weekend, hitched a lift on an american DC3 to Buna and found his dad.

This is a picture of them both with my grandfather's mother, my great grandfather's wife.

 

During World War II the Australian Women's Land Army was established to combat labour shortages in the farming sector. These are photographs of my grandmother who served in the AWLM in Bung Bung Victoria, Australia.

Kings Cross' History

Shots another chapter in city's neon dream

April 28, 2012 

 

Louis Nowra

 

High Society ... Diana Fuller at the Rex Hotel in the Cross in 1954. Photo: Hugh Ross

Louis Nowra laments the changing face of his beloved Kings Cross.

There is no way I will be venturing outside tonight. As usual Kings Cross will be invaded by up to 20,000 people who will take over the streets, nightclubs, hotels and bars. Sunday morning there will be evidence of what happened during the night on the entrance to the front door of my apartment building - in the past it has included blood, urine, shit and vomit.
Last Sunday's early morning shooting of a 14-year-old boy and an 18-year-old man by the police, as the driver tried to escape from the law by driving on the crowded footpath of Darlinghurst Road, was not a surprise to locals. Only the week before someone had fired a shot in the Bada Bing nightclub just a few doors up from the incident. There have also been shootings in other nightclubs, bullets fired at clubs and guns fired in the main street.
These acts of violence are merely symptomatic of an epidemic of aggression and antisocial behaviour that engulfs the Cross every Friday and Saturday night, much of it fuelled by alcohol and drugs. There are drunken rampages, unprovoked attacks on passers-by and the homeless, and drunks and the drug-addled assaulting police.

 

 Those were the days ... Norm Erskine, a famous crooner in the area during the '50s and '60s, with Sammy Davis jnr.

One of the most alarming statistics was that in 2010 there were almost twice as many assaults on the police as there were officers on patrol. It is thought that 80 per cent of assaults are alcohol-related. And no wonder the main culprit is alcohol, as there are 300 licensed premises concentrated in a tiny area of 500 square metres.
To go out on the main streets on a Friday or Saturday night is to be amazed at the thousands of men and women milling around, waiting to get inside clubs, searching for a pub or just loitering. By the early hours the sense of fun has turned into one of menace as men tanked up with testosterone, drugs and booze roam in packs, drunken girls totter on their high heels, fall and brawl. Residents can only watch from their windows as the mob use the parks and doorways to urinate, shit and vomit. As dawn comes up the crowds may have lessened but this is when the violence is at its most palpable - when men take out their aggression on friends and strangers.
To understand what is happening in the Cross now it's important to know the role it has played in our city for the past 70 or so years. During the 1930s Kings Cross became a byword for sophistication in clothes, architecture and openness to other cultures. It was the Cross where foreigners and their food were accepted, where social and sexual experimentation took place. It was a neon island surrounded by endless drab suburbs.

 

 Part of the scene ... the infamous Pink Pussycat Club.

It became a centre of hedonistic pleasure during the World War II, where American servicemen lodged and spent their R&R. The black market flourished and sly-groggers made a fortune. After the Americans left, successive state governments realised that all cities require a safety valve where activities such as prostitution, sex clubs, late-night drinking and other dubious pleasures could be found. The idea was to be able to confine these activities to one particular area, which could be controlled and separated so that these activities would not spread to the morally pure suburbia.
By the time of the Vietnam War, when Americans came again for R&R, Kings Cross was party central. With the Americans came hard drugs and the Cross, always at the forefront of social experimentation, became a hub for heroin and later other drugs. Yet, at the same time, the Cross stayed a vital mixture of the wealthy and the poor, the bohemian artist and the hooker, the straights and the gays. It became a place of tolerance while the rest of Australia remained a bleak conformist society.
Part of its tolerance is that it is a port town. For decades sailors from across the world have stepped off their ships just down the road and made a pilgrimage to what the media refers to as the ''red light'' district. A Kings Cross resident knows this is part of its charm and notoriety; its Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde character. By day the locals own the area. It has a village-like atmosphere where even old widows can go about safely and, unlike other parts of Australia, remain part of a community. At night during the weekend the locals retire to their apartments to allow the visitors their Bacchanalian impulses.
But, of course, given the Cross was a moral exception to the rest of society's values, it was easy for political and police corruption to flourish. By the late 20th century the Cross was in decline. But in the past eight or so years there has been a remarkable transformation. Most of the hotels have become apartments, there are gourmet shops, upmarket restaurants and the once dangerous lanes are becoming as fashionable as those of Melbourne. Gentrification has meant the influx of the affluent and the disappearance of the artist and others who can't afford to live here any more. And as usual the Cross tolerates what other suburbs wouldn't: for instance the library is a couple of doors from a sex shop on one side and the injecting centre on the other.
These weren't the only changes. The rest of Australian society had caught up with the Cross. Prostitutes found they could earn more money in the suburbs, and porn on the net effectively killed the sex clubs, which no longer make money. Because so many hotels closed there are few tourists these days, which means that many shops which catered to them have closed.
But the government remains fixated by the Cross being society's safety valve and so the decision to make it a 24-hour entertainment district is in keeping with its past history. But what exactly does that mean? There are few real nightclubs and strip shows; instead it's the beer barns and bars that have become the main attractions. For most visitors, the allure of Kings Cross is now alcohol and drugs. The constant presence of bikies and their guns is all about the various bikie groups trying to take over the lucrative trade in drugs.
The police are so overstretched that nightclub owners offered to have their own security people help patrol the streets of a weekend. The Premier, Barry O'Farrell, said last year he would use all his powers to clean up the Cross, saying that it contained the most alcohol-fuelled streets in the nation. But little has happened.
If it's so patently obvious that alcohol is to blame for so much violence and antisocial behaviour then why doesn't the government and City of Sydney do something about it? It's clear the hotel industry is a powerful lobby group and it doesn't want to ruin its cash cow by limiting hours and enforcing lockouts. But the City of Sydney doesn't have exactly pure motives either. It may have helped restore the Cross to some of its former glories but as Suzie Matthews, the City of Sydney manager of the late night economy, has said, ''A balance needs to be struck between the needs of business, what Sydneysiders want, public safety, consideration of local residents and economic growth''.
But the balance is now heavily weighted towards the needs of business. In other words money trumps social responsibility. If this attitude continues we'll continue to experience shootings like last week and the Cross will slowly be destroyed for the sake of a quick buck.

Louis Nowra has lived in Kings Cross for more than 20 years. He is writing a history of the area, to be published next year.

Read more: http://www.smh.com.au/nsw/shots-another-chapter-in-citys-neon-dream-20120427-1xq79.html#ixzz1tKoPqwXK

89 years

 

 

J's grandmother turned 89 on ANZAC Day. I made her Donna Hay's butter cake.

Donna Hay's Butter Cake Recipe from Modern Classics 2.

• 125 g (4 oz) butter, very well softened
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 cup caster (superfine) sugar
• 3 eggs
• 1 1/2 cups plain (all-purpose) flour, sifted
• 1/2 teaspoon baking powder, sifted
• 1/4 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda (baking soda), sifted
• 1/2 cup (4 fl oz) milk

1. Preheat oven to 150° C (300° F).  Grease a 20 cm (8 in) round cake tin and line with non-stick baking paper (sides and bottom). (Or 3.5 ltr Saucepan!!!)
2. Place the butter, vanilla, sugar, eggs, flour, baking powder, bicarbonate of soda and milk in the bowl of an electric mixer (fitted with the paddle attachment).  Beat on low speed until combined.
3. Increase the speed to high and beat the mixture until it is just smooth.
4. Spoon mixture into baking tin and bake for 1 hour 5 minutes or until a cake tester inserted in centre comes out clean.
5. Allow to cool in cake tin on a wire rack for 5 minutes.  Turn out onto the wire rack and cool completely.
6. Serve plain or spread with basic icing.

 It's not everyday that you see 89 flaming candles on a cake!

post monorail

Push to recycle Monorail and let city enjoy high life

Amy McNeilage

April 23, 2012

Sky high vision for monorail

Landscape architect David Vrago has drawn up his plan for the soon-to-be demolished Sydney Monorail which proposes to turn the tracks into an elevated boardwalk.

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IMAGINE a version of New York's famous High Line, an elevated cycle and walkway, running through the centre of Sydney.
Now a landscape architect is arguing that this vision could be a reality, using the track and supports of the reviled Monorail, which is due to be pulled down to make way for the redevelopment of Darling Harbour.
When the NSW government announced last month it would remove the network as soon as possible, many sighed with relief. With public debate now turning to what should happen to the structure once dismantled, David Vago has drawn up a plan to turn the tracks into an elevated boardwalk and cycleway.

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 Reused ... the walkway would use the old Monorail tracks. Photo: David Vago/Habitation

He said pulling down the tonnes of steel infrastructure would be a missed opportunity - and a waste of money.
His proposal would involve a three to five-metre-wide deck across the track, creating a 3.6-kilometre public walkway through the central business district.
The High-Lane, as he calls it, could be used by joggers, cyclists, office workers, parents with prams and tourists. The existing pylons would become vertical gardens and Monorail stations would be transformed into pocket parks, cafes and gallery spaces.

 

 A view of green space along the first section of the High Line in New York. Photo: Getty Images

"From a sustainability point of view it makes sense to reuse not to remove," said Mr Vago, the director of Habitation, an architectural firm.
Mr Vago said removing the Monorail would cost $10 million-$15 million but the redesign would cost an estimated $5 million.
He said it would take about 12 to 18 months to build.

On the right path ... an artist's impression of how the High-Lane would look. Photo: David Vago/Habitation

The project is a mini-version of the High Line in New York, which turned a former railway into a public park above the streets of Manhattan.
An aerial greenway also exists in Paris, where an old railway line was transformed into the 4.7-kilometre Promenade Plantee.
The plan could be a tough sell, given the government plans to remove the structure partly to make way for the Darling Harbour redevelopment.
Transport for NSW would not confirm whether it would consider the proposal.
"[We are] examining options for removing and potential reuse of the Monorail," a spokesman said.
The lord mayor, Clover Moore, said she loved the New York High Line but did not believe the Monorail tracks offered the same potential.
"The pillars are ugly and intrusive and the track is not wide enough to do the idea justice," she said.
The Tourism Industry Council NSW said it was an interesting concept in theory but it would have to see more details before giving it any real consideration.
"But it's certainly something different," the general manager, Andrew Jefferies, said.
This article originally appeared in Saturday's Sydney Morning Herald

Read more: http://www.smh.com.au/nsw/push-to-recycle-monorail-and-let-city-enjoy-high-life-20120420-1xcff.html#ixzz1srABTzw9

interesting article...

Ready to go back, despite splintered bones and betrayal

Liz Hannan

April 23, 2012

Danial Payne, wounded in a deadly attack by an Afghan officer in October, is desperate to return to combat duty, writes Liz Hannan.
PRIVATE DANIAL PAYNE was chatting with fellow Diggers after morning parade at a forward operating base in Sorkh Bed on October 29 last year when the shooting began.
The young Australian Army medic remembers the first shots but not the volley that followed as an Afghan National Army officer ''went rogue'', turning his automatic weapon on about a dozen members of Mentoring Taskforce 3. Of all the perils Australians faced in Afghanistan, this was especially shocking - a murderous attack by an ally in the relative safety of a secure base.
''I passed out and woke up and thought 'Why am I on the ground and why does my leg hurt?','' Private Payne says. ''People were screaming and crying. I pulled my leg out [from under me] and there was a big hole and I thought 'Oh, I got shot'.''

Fighting back ... Private Danial Payne, who was shot during a tour in Afghanistan last year. Photo: Wolter Peeters

He put a tourniquet on his leg - the tibia shattered by a single bullet lodged just below the knee - pulled out his medical pouch and started crawling to bodies, treating them while propped up by combat first aiders who had sprinted to the parade ground after gunfire rang out.
''I thought, 'The ones that are screaming, I'll stay away from them'. That's our training - they're OK. It's the people who are not conscious or screaming that you have to go for.''
Nothing could be done for Captain Bryce Duffy, 26, Corporal Ashley Birt, 22, or an Afghan interpreter. But Lance-Corporal Luke Gavin, 27, was alive. Notwithstanding the severity of his own wound, Private Payne worked to save him, to no avail.

Danial Payne … loved Afghanistan. Photo: Wolter Peeters

In a minute's madness, three young Australians and an Afghan had been murdered, seven Diggers wounded, the gunman killed and Australia's belief in its decade-long presence in Afghanistan rocked to the core.
As the most senior medic on the base that day, Private Payne helped the first aiders assess the wounded, ''to make sure we weren't leaving behind someone that was still alive, to make sure they still had a position on the helicopter''. He then boarded a helicopter to a multinational medical facility at Tarin Kowt - the first stop on the long journey home for most Diggers wounded in combat in Afghanistan.
After several hours, he was flown to a medical facility at Kandahar overnight, then the Bagram air base for several lots of surgery, then on to Landstuhl in Germany for at least half a dozen minor operations to wash out the wound and protect it against infection.

Danial Payne's injured knee. Photo: Wolter Peeters

Within a week, Private Payne was back in Australia, undergoing yet more surgery at St Andrews War Memorial Hospital in Brisbane. In a big boost to his spirits, he was allowed home to Hervey Bay for Christmas, though he has not yet returned to his battalion, 2RAR, in Townsville.
Six months after the carnage of that October day, the Herald meets Private Payne in the Enoggera Health Centre at the Gallipoli Barracks in Brisbane, where he works five days a week in the therapy pool and gymnasium to strengthen his knee and calf, which is a riot of tattoo ink and thick, dark scars.
He looks younger than his 23 years. Words and ideas tumble forth at pace. ''I loved every day of [Afghanistan], '' he says, ''even right up to where I got shot.''
The crutches are gone. A mild limp remains, but today it may be because he has just done his first two kilometre walk, unaided. He is doing amazingly well, says physiotherapist Roberta Field. And so it seems. But mentally?
''I am not anything special, trying to overcome this injury … So far I haven't had any PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder). I just get frustrated like anyone else would,'' he says.
He used to wonder why three mates died and he and others were spared ''but then I got over it. You have to.'' Instead he is doing everything he can to earn a second tour of duty. That ambition was all but extinguished last week when the Prime Minister, Julia Gillard, announced Australia would withdraw from Afghanistan next year - almost a year earlier than planned.
''Hopefully I will get back to a full recovery, get back to my old job. Whether or not that happens, I want to be the best I can be,'' Private Payne says. ''Hopefully I will be back in Afghanistan but that may not be possible because of the timing. It might all be over for us.
''Before I [went to Afghanistan] I didn't have that same camaraderie or patriotism for the Australian Army but now I love it so much.''

Read more: http://www.smh.com.au/national/ready-to-go-back-despite-splintered-bones-and-betrayal-20120422-1xf77.html#ixzz1sp3RVcXO

private or public schools?

Before you assume your child will receive a 'better' education at a private school be sure to read this article.

"A child's family and the characteristics they were born with are much more significant predictors of success than a school." (Something you learn very quickly as a teacher, if you didn't know it before!)

http://www.smh.com.au/opinion/society-and-culture/lesson-for-parents-in-public-schools-20120415-1x1bq.html#ixzz1sC7jXgBU

Or see below:

Lesson for parents in public schools

Cathy Sherry

April 16, 2012

Opinion

One of the most disturbing parts of the current discussion of schools is the growing assumption that public schools are woefully underfunded and inadequate.
This perception is often fuelled by a well-meaning media, wanting to bring attention to inequity in education. But the unfortunate result is that parents think, "It would be great to send the kids to the local school, but I'm not going to make my child a sacrificial lamb on the altar of public education." So they send their child to a private school, Catholic or otherwise, assuming they will receive a superior service.
When one of my kids went to an elite, very expensive private school, I was shocked. The standard of education was average, to say the least.

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The level they were teaching at in year 7 was below the level at which our local comprehensive public primary school was teaching in year 6.
Because I work at the other end of the education system, I am not too worried by what happens in early high school. There is, after all, a long way to go.
But after two years of watching the implementation of educational decisions that seemed nothing short of incompetent, I had had enough. I went to our local public school to arrange a transfer.
The deputy principal was like manna from heaven - professional, straightforward and competent, like every other public school teacher I have since dealt with.
I am sure there are bad teachers in the public system, just like there are bad employees in any large organisation, but at the four public primary and high schools my kids have attended, I have not met a single one.
A consistent insinuation in school funding discussions is that private schools, being able to choose their own staff, have better quality teachers.
But what I saw in the private system were some teachers who I suspected had been chosen for their commitment to the school's religious values, which did not translate into good teaching. Enforcing the "values" and "standards" of the school certainly took up an inordinate amount of time and energy, at the expense of real academic achievement.
Ironically, given the current enthusiasm for values in private schools, one of the best things about escaping the private system was liberation from this mantra. We need schools to teach our children the curriculum, not to raise them. When it comes to teaching them right from wrong, dressing appropriately, using social media safely, or making sure they are not running off the rails, that is our job. We make mistakes, but like the vast majority of parents, we manage.
At the private school we were inundated with newsletters about drugs and mental health, the perils of Facebook and mobile phones. Most of it was sensible and well-meaning, but it fostered the impression that the only thing standing between teenagers and the slippery slope into drug addiction and oblivion was the wisdom of the independent school.
In reality, thousands of teenagers make it into adulthood every year, socially and morally functional, without their parents having spent tens of thousands of dollars on school fees. As a university lecturer, I have taught hundreds of them.
If parents think they can isolate their children from others with problem behaviours by sending them to a private school, then they've never been to a private school. In the affluent suburb where I grew up, the troubled teenagers had two identifying characteristics: drugs or alcohol and private schooling.
Of course it wasn't their schools' fault they had drug or alcohol problems; if it was anyone's, it was their parents' - parents who were much freer with their money than their time. But just as a private school cannot take the blame for kids who use drugs or alcohol, it cannot take credit for those who do not. The credit belongs to the child and their family. The same goes for public schools.
People have begun to have wildly unrealistic ideas about the effect of schools, both negative and positive. A child's family and the characteristics they were born with are much more significant predictors of success than a school. The stellar results of selective public schools, which draw their staff from exactly the same pool as non-selective government schools, are proof of that.
If a child comes from a deeply dysfunctional home, no school - private or public - can fix that. They can respond professionally and sensitively, and seek assistance where appropriate, but if the child does not excel, it does not mean that the school is an educational failure. To hold a high school maths teacher or even a principal responsible for the serious difficulties that some children are in by age 16 is as irrational as it is unfair.
In contrast, if a child comes from a family that is coping or thriving, with parents who value education, they are probably going to be fine no matter where they go to school.
Well-intended as it may be, our current obsession with the challenges of public schooling runs the risk of permanently damaging our very good secular public education system. It is a system that remains superior to the private system in many ways.
Focusing on the public system's challenges, while ignoring its manifold successes, will make the discussion of the alleged demise of public education a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Cathy Sherry is a senior lecturer in law at the University of NSW.

Read more: http://www.smh.com.au/opinion/society-and-culture/lesson-for-parents-in-public-schools-20120415-1x1bq.html#ixzz1sC8gGguu

 

a double rainbow....

One afternoon just after lunch the wind came up- a bitterly cold southerly- which left little meringue-d peaks out on the ocean & dropped snow on the mountains (in April no less and as low as Jindabyne).

This is the view from our shed once it became too cold to be outside. Then there's nothing better than having a warming dinner, a bath & an early night in bed with a book, or a stack in my case. I was determined to get a lot of reading done.

I have only seen a double rainbow a few times. The first time was the day Princess Diana died. There's a whole bunch of information about rainbows on Wikipedia. They really are beautiful.

"neigh".... bours!

Our neighbours down on the farm run stock and have other farm animals on their property so our children had a ball meeting, feeding and petting them.
 

This little guy may well be the inspiration for getting our kids a couple of guinea pigs. We will look into adopting from an animal shelter (rather than buying through a pet store).

B took this shot. I quite like it.

easter egg hunt...

Our Easter morning consisted of a cooked breakfast with family, coffees, a play then an Easter Egg hunt courtesy of the Easter Bilby which, fortunately, found us down on the farm.

de-cluttering

The act of de-cluttering (for me) is usually spurred on by the offer of more clutter stuff gifts from one place/friend or another. This morning and this afternoon (while J & the kids played in the backyard) I managed to go through all the kids clothes including the heavy bags I'd vacuum-packed some months (& years) ago.

I was ruthless BUT the children still have a lot of clothes. I like the kids to be well-dressed (except when we're on the farm). Perhaps I should say I like the kids to be appropriately dressed so that means good clothes for parties, events, outings; clothes for pre school, for play dates, for making mud pies in the summer & the winter; and clothes for on the farm. That's A LOT of clothes and they grow so quickly.

Mind you I can proudly say that the majority of the kids clothes are secondhand from an op shop hand-me-downs or were sale.

So, all that being said I still managed to come up with the equivalent of 2.5 Ikea bags (those huge blue ones) full that we don't 'need.' I guess I also had to consider that at some stage we may have another baby.

In the space of an hour or so I took a few pics with my iphone and whacked them on a local classifieds page of Facebook and within ten minutes I had 2 buyers.

This decluttering could get addictive.... as long as those offers of more stuff come in.

archibald family day

If you're in Sydney next Sunday this looks like a lot of fun!

posture on a persian rug

full moon

 The full moon rose one night when we were on the farm. We were lucky that is was such a clear sky, devoid of clouds, and we watched it come up from what appeared to be 'behind the sea.'

adventures on the farm

Over Easter we visited our farm on the Far South Coast of NSW. It was the perfect holiday & especially considering J hadn't stepped on it's earth for 2.5 years (too long!)

On our arrival B jumped from the car and announced "Come out animals.... we are farmers!"

Perhaps this is why the Easter Bilby had to find us on the farm. This poor rabbit was dying from myxomatosis.  I asked B "What do you think we could do to make it feel better?" His response was "Sing a song or play 'i-spy.'" We did both.

'Donna Donna' may have not been the most appropriate... think "On a wagon bound for market. There's a calf with a mournful eye." Still, that's what was chosen so that's what we sang. Over the next few posts I'll share some of the adventures we had, with you.
 

 

being a mindful meat eater...

Check out this article. If you do eat meat there are things you can do to ensure your meat is ethically produced.

congratulations J!

Made dinner tonight (as usual) but unusually we had a celebration in our house. My beautiful husband just passed his General Practice theory exam which was a 7-hour exam and included a multiple choice section that had 26 possible answers. Needless to say the old saying that the answer is usually "C" did not apply!

I decided to make Cambodian poached fish with rice which I love and a little zingy side salad. I love the combination of fennel bulb with fish and citrus (in this case orange and lime juice). Commonly I add nuts or seeds to salads and I topped this one with black sesame seeds. I first noticed black sesame seeds on inside-out nori rolls & I now make certain I have a supply in the pantry.

We toasted with a cocktail: a splash of vanilla vodka, lime juice, ginger beer mixer and tonic water.

I could not be prouder of J!

once upon a time

If you're reading this I have already left.... for my first night away from P (15 months) & 3rd night away from B (3 years)!

I decided to book into a yoga retreat. Envious - I hear you say? You should move on... & book yourself in too.

After 3 years of packing for the kids first & myself last I asked the coordinator what I needed to bring. Her reply was simple:

Swimmers and beach towel (for the pool and spa)
Walking shoes (in case I want to go for a walk)
Comfortable clothing.

I don't remember ever packing so light (but I must have - once upon a time).