my very own masterchef

So, in keeping with my new resolution to teach the kids to cook, last night, with absolutely no warning, I said to Mr Nearly9, "You're cooking dinner tonight, bud. Spaghetti and meatballs. Away you go."
His eyes lit up. "Right!" he said, and actually dusted off his hands with squared shoulders as he headed for the pantry.
No hesitation. (just like his dad)
Through my laughter, I told him he would have to listen while I explained what to do. (no freestylin' here till you have a few years cooking under your belt!)

I had bought meatballs from the butcher (not great, mine are much better. My thinking was to start simple but in retrospect, I should have made the meatballs at home.)
Anyway, I showed him how to make a simple pasta sauce with canned tomatoes, tomato paste, lemon rind, and herbs from the garden. He did all the work himself, though he needed a little help opening the can.
He dropped the meatballs in and kept turning them without splashing too much sauce around, then he cooked pasta with butter and chopped parsley.

This morning he said, "Mum. Next I wanna tackle a stir-fry."

Cool. I have JUST the recipe.

Lamentations

OR : Household Principles for Children
from Beatrice Santorini

Laws of Forbidden Places

Of the beasts of the field, and of the fishes of the sea, and of all foods that are acceptable in my sight you may eat, but not in the living room.
Of the hoofed animals, grilled or ground into burgers, you may eat, but not in the living room.

Of the cereal grains, of the corn and of the wheat and of the oats, and of all the cereals that are of bright color and unknown provenance you may eat, but not in the living room.

Of quiescently frozen dessert and of all frozen after-meal treats you may eat, but absolutely not in the living room.

Of the juices and other beverages, yes, even of those in sippy-cups, you may drink, but not in the living room, neither may you carry such therein.

Indeed, when you reach the place where the living room carpet begins, of any food or beverage there you may not eat, neither may you drink.

But if you are sick, and are lying down and watching something, then may you eat in the living room.

Laws When At Table

And if you are seated in your high chair, or in a chair such as a greater person might use, keep your legs and feet below you as they were.
Neither raise up your knees, nor place your feet upon the table, for that is an abomination to me. Yes, even when you have an interesting bandage to show, your feet upon the table are an abomination, and worthy of rebuke.

Drink your milk as it is given you, neither use on it any utensils, nor fork, nor knife, nor spoon, for that is not what they are for; if you will dip your blocks in the milk, and lick it off, you will be sent away from my presence.

When you have drunk, let the empty cup then remain upon the table, and do not bite it upon its edge and by your teeth hold it to your face in order to make noises in it sounding like a duck: for you will be sent away from my presence.

When you chew your food, keep your mouth closed until you have swallowed, and do not open it to show your brother or your sister what is within; I say to you, do not so, even if your brother or your sister has done the same to you.

Eat your food only; do not eat that which is not food; neither seize the table between your jaws, nor use the raiment of the table to wipe your lips. I say again to you, do not touch it, but leave it as it is.

And though your stick of carrot does indeed resemble a marker, draw not with it upon the table, even in pretend, for we do not do that, that is why.

And though the pieces of broccoli are very like small trees, do not stand them upright to make a forest, because we do not do that, that is why.

Sit just as I have told you, and do not lean to one side or the other, nor slide down until you are nearly slid away. Heed me; for if you sit like that, your hair will go into the syrup. And now behold, even as I have said, it has come to pass.

Laws Pertaining To Dessert

For we judge between the plate that is unclean and the plate that is clean, saying first, if the plate is clean, then you shall have dessert.
But of the unclean plate, the laws are these: If you have eaten most of your meat, and two bites of your peas with each bite consisting of not less than three peas each, or in total six peas, eaten where I can see, and you have also eaten enough of your potatoes to fill two forks, both forkfuls eaten where I can see, then you shall have dessert.

But if you eat a lesser number of peas, and yet you eat the potatoes, still you shall not have dessert; and if you eat the peas, yet leave the potatoes uneaten, you shall not have dessert, no, not even a small portion thereof.

And if you try to deceive by moving the potatoes or peas around with a fork, that it may appear you have eaten what you have not, you will fall into iniquity. And I will know, and you shall have no dessert.

On Screaming

Do not scream; for it is as if you scream all the time. If you are given a plate on which two foods you do not wish to touch each other are touching each other, your voice rises up even to the ceiling, while you point to the offense with the finger of your right hand; but I say to you, scream not, only remonstrate gently with the server, that the server may correct the fault.

Likewise if you receive a portion of fish from which every piece of herbal seasoning has not been scraped off, and the herbal seasoning is loathsome to you and steeped in vileness, again I say, refrain from screaming. Though the vileness overwhelm you, and cause you a faint unto death, make not that sound from within your throat, neither cover your face, nor press your fingers to your nose. For even I have made the fish as it should be; behold, I eat it myself, yet do not die.

Concerning Face and Hands

Cast your countenance upward to the light, and lift your eyes to the hills, that I may more easily wash you off. For the stains are upon you; even to the very back of your head, there is rice thereon.
And in the breast pocket of your garment, and upon the tie of your shoe, rice and other fragments are distributed in a manner beyond comprehension.

Only hold yourself still; hold still, I say. Give each finger in its turn for my examination thereof, and also each thumb. Lo, how iniquitous they appear. What I do is as it must be; and you shall not go hence until I have done.

Various other laws, statutes, and ordinances

Bite not, lest you be cast into quiet time. Neither drink of your own bath water, nor of the bath water of any kind; nor rub your feet on bread, even if it be in the package; nor rub your feet against cars, not against any building; nor eat sand.
Leave the cat alone, for what has the cat done, that you should so afflict it with tape? And hum not the humming in your nose as I read, nor stand between the light and the book. Indeed, you will drive me to madness. Nor forget what I said about the tape.

MasterChef

I'm not really a fan.

I watched it once or twice and enjoyed the show, but I can't bear that nasty critic (Matt?) -- although I do love looking at the food.
And we caught a few eps of the kids cooking. I was staggered! Seriously -- the age of some of those kids, and their mad skillz.... how much self-confidence must kids have when they can cook like that? and how much time have people (parents, grand-parents) spent with them in order to teach them?

My son and DIL are teaching their two boys to cook. The oldest is 4 and he sits on the bench while whisking eggs etc. and he can probably cook more than my nearly-nine year old.

The reason for this is simple -- I am so impatient! I get grumpy easily and to make things worse, I find it hard to eat food prepared by others. I even prefer to make my own coffee! (I can easily see how Howard Hughes became so de-railed by his germ phobia)

But this cooking thing.... I really want to give this a try.
I'd like for my kids to be confident cooks. I'd like them to appreciate good food, good ingredients, and the skills that go into preparing a meal. I'd like them to become more adventurous and not be afraid to try exotic dishes.

Plus it might give me an excuse to buy that gorgeous vintage floral apron I've had my eye on....

headlice and mozzies and worms, oh my!

STOP!
Don't come any closer. We're infested.

We have mozzie bites that are driving us mad with itching and I've been trying all kinds of bizarre recommendations, but nothing seems to help. I have 3 on my arms that weep from the constant scratching. It's a good look.

Last night while scratching my itchy head I pulled a nit off one of those fine little hairs at the nape of my neck. FREAK OUT! So now I have a shower cap on top of my matted lice-treatment-reeking wet hair, to go with the weeping sores on my arms. The kiddies don't have any so it's a complete mystery to me how I managed to get them.

And the kids tell me this morning their bottoms are itchy..... you know what this means.

I feel like trailer trash.

my little jelly fish

Today, the Princess' pre-primary class hosted their first school assembly. They were hugely excited (and also a bit nervous) and their theme was Under The Sea. They all dressed as sea critters (scuba divers and surf lifesavers featured large) and sang Three Little Fishies.
The Princess wanted to be a dolphin. My brain went into a tailspin. After some discussion, we settled on a jellyfish. Too easy.
(One mum said her daughter was desperate to be coral, but she couldn't for the life of her think how to make a coral outfit in 24 hours.)

The kids all had a turn at speaking into the microphone, and there wasn't one hesitation. They were magnificent!

I usually hate assemblies, I have to admit. But this school... I LOVE this school! they rock assemblies.
And so do my kids.

I'm so excited....

Yeah, I know. I'm a geek.

But LOOK what's on it's way to me!



Happy happy joy joy! Murder and mayhem will reign supreme again. Oh, plus I might learn a thing or two along the way.
No, seriously.
In the last game, which was set in Renaissance Florence/Venice I learned about Lorenzo d'Medici, Caterina Sforza, and Leonardo.
(Plus how to do a kick-ass assassination....)

If you have a few minutes, look up Caterina, though. She was one amazing woman.

my new bedtime partners

Well, I have no man to take to bed now -- not for the nextsixweeks (I say that fast so it doesn't seem so scary).
So instead I'll be curling up with these



MMMMMM. Books.

I love to read, always have. In primary school I loved Enid Blyton, Trixie Belden and Mary Grant Bruce, Agatha Christie, Wuthering Heights, and Lorna Doone.
In early high school I started reading Desmond Bagley (Running Blind is still one of my favourite reads, and has instilled in me a strong desire to visit Iceland), Wilbur Smith (before they turned into porn books) and Robert Ludlum (odd choice for a 15 year old girl).

Now, my shelves are filled with childhood favourites (I still love you, Norah and Wally); old friends -- Stephen King, Jodi Picoult, Sarah Rayne, Jeffrey Deaver, Preston/Child, Matthew Reilly, Tad Williams; and new loves -- Lauren Weisberger, Jeff Lindsay (Dexter), Jan Guillou and Stieg Larsson.

And of course, with Christmas coming up, the bookstores are filling up with treasures.
I have a long list of WANTS -- John Howards' Lazarus Rising, a new Stephen King collection called Full Dark No Stars , a new Kathy Reichs book called Virals , Paul Kellys' How To Make Gravy , Kevin McClouds' Grand Designs Handbook (he's been described as the Thinking Womans' Crumpet), Oliver Sacks' The Minds' Eye, and Parkys' People by the inestimable Michael Parkinson.

I might just ask for a great big voucher in my stocking this year!

so when is a prank not funny?

We don't celebrate Halloween. Not in a "get thee hence, O Prince of Darkness!" kind of way, we're just not into it. Plus we've been living in the Back of Beyond for yonks.
So I've been kind of surprised at the way this (American) holiday has taken off. And, you know, whatever blows your hair back. If you're into it, go for it.
But what's with the pranks?

I was reading this morning about a man who had a heart attack while chasing some kids who egged his car as a prank.
Hello? Parents? what are you teaching your kids if they think it's acceptable to egg someones' car?

Now, I know Halloween isn't directly responsible for this. It's parents abdicating their responsibilities, and failing to teach their kids some basic respect for other peoples' property, failing to teach them that actions have consequences (and some of those consequences may involve a spanking, or grounding, or forfeiture of pocket money)
It's those kids using this as an excuse to behave like bloody hooligans.

And sadly, in this 'modern' age, I doubt any of those kids will face any kind of consequences for this pretty reprehensible behaviour.

Tough love, people. We need to bring it back.

40 years

Forty years ago today, a young couple sat in a Victorian hospital, marvelling over the miracle of their firstborn son. He was a gorgeous baby, with his Dads' features, blue eyes, curly hair, and a winning smile.

He grew up with two parents who never had much money, but worked their fingers to the bone to keep the family together. They lived on farms, where he rode on the back of a motorbike clinging to Dad, where he learned to throw calves and shoot rabbits and fish like a man possessed.

He was always mature for his age, a little gullible because he wanted to believe the best of people, steadfast and loyal.
He went through his silly teenaged years, causing his poor mother more than one anxious moment, although she maintains she doesn't remember any of that.

He pranged his motorbike so spectacularly one day, that his Uncle Terry, who saw it happen, was convinced he was dead; but he got up and limped away with minor cuts and bruises. The bike was the only casualty that day.

He worked as hard as his parents from the time he was big enough, picking, pruning and packing fruit in the Murray River district mostly. He left school at 15 and went to work full-time, sometimes for his parents and sometimes for other growers. He worked 2 jobs at a time, haring between them on yet another bike, and making barely enough money to keep him in spare parts.

At 18 years old, he made a decision to move to Western Australia, to the mines. He packed up, moved to a God-forsaken little town in the desert, and got a job working as a mill-rat. Before long, he entered a mining training program, and began acquiring the skills that would see him through the majority of his working life.

He partied hard. He got himself into a spot of bother once or twice, and learned from the experiences.
When I met him, he was soon-to-turn-20, and seriously cute. We became friends almost right away, and before long, I counted him as my best friend forever.

He met a woman, had kids, got married, and then divorced. I moved away, went through a series of bizarre relationships and trials. We never stopped thinking of each other.
He rang me one night, came to see me a week or so later, and within 2 days had asked me to marry him. I said yes, of course. That was nearly 10 years ago.

And today, this wonderful man, who is honest, and brave, and clever, and funny, and loyal, and steadfast, and sexy, and capable; who is the best husband and dad anyone could ever hope for, turns 40.
We're not having a big party, because he flies out of the country tonight, back to the job he hopes will give him the chance to make something of himself, in the field of work he loves so much.

He leaves at home a little group of people who think he is, quite simply, The Best.

Happy birthday, my lover.