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Too windy (and then hailey) to paint the back porch,
The shed is still sticky from my icing frenzy, and I'm worried about friends in Mumbai,
So I work off my anxiety with a can of blue paint in the bedroom.
Bloody stucco. There should be a law against it.
I have discovered caulking.
It's a lot like icing a cake, and just as much fun,
Except that icing washes off your skin when you've finished being a twit.
Whereas silicon sticks like shit to a blanket.
1. Lots of Fun to Cook006.jpg, 2. I'll hold on till time stands still again..., 3. The Winter Bird, 4. Millie's shoes, 5. castle on linen, 6. s t i l l writing, 7. 27a, 8. Untitled, 9. 4:52 PM, 10. 18th of November, 11. Here's looking at you pussy cat, 12. bjp octobre, 13. before technology, 14. ripple afghan, extended, 15. She runs, 16. Chania, 17. Blooming Peach tree., 18. black satin doll, 19. red and green stars, 20. patch the bear, 21. Firenze, 22. friends on the wall, 23. Ole! Toros!, 24. and so it begins, 25. Untitled
Too dark to show you anything much inside New House.
We pause only to note the eye-gouging height of the light fittings, suggesting the prior occupancy of Southern Italians,
(an assumption that would be perfectly corretto).
We stop even brieflier to admire the kitchen tiles, because Leah, for one, would love them...
And then dash outside, before it hails again, for a Proper Look with the camera.
Exploration, so far, has revealed
1 apple tree,
2 apricot trees,
1 lemon tree,
1 olive tree,
1 bay tree,
an exceedlingly healthy fig,
and a rosemary bush dating back to the time of Moses.
I can't tell you how happy that makes me.
That spidery, leaky shed through the trees is about to become my still spidery but hopefully not so leaky studio.
I found a compost barrel so full of eggshells, that it made me wonder...
Could it be?
Is it possible?
It could.
It is.
Please allow me to present the Oldest and Weeist Chook Shed in the Whole World Ever.
At which point I just died and went to Palazzo Heaven.
It is, indeed, a very fine house.
So fine, that I still can't believe we're going to be living there in just a few short weeks.
Anyone familiar with Melbourne's current rental crisis will understand that scoring decent housing amidst the clamour of hundreds of applicants prepared to offer first-born children and large financial gratuities in exchange for the keys, makes the acquisition of a warm, airy and clean little house, in a truly fabulous location, complete with excellent backyard, fruit trees, vegetable garden and shed, so utterly miraculous, that I still can't believe my luck.
So relieved and grateful was I that I promptly went out and acquired a long-coveted Ganesh on the nevernever to celebrate, and don't even care about how I'm going to pay him off. I might let Ganpati himself field that one, obstacles being, after all, his forte.
Dudes, we are so out of here.
1. branco-pena, 2. walk, 3. owl_mama04, 4. World Wide Knit in public day 2007, 5. resident evil zombie, 6. all that glitters...is dough, 7. Holden, 8. Untitled, 9. Selbu Modern - on my happy head, 10. bolls, 11. Polly, 12. shipwreck, 13. walk home from the library, 14. Newspaper Basket, 15. Drawing.Darling.Mar Azul 08, 16. soft glow, 17. whiskers, 18. the aftermath, 19. Left Out, 20. Untitled, 21. lenço, 22. for gabriella, 23. 8th of November, 24. shhhh, 25. winterberries
We have a house application pending. I should have an answer in the next 48 hours.
Now, I won't lie about this. I'm a bit stressed.
And I just want you all to know, for those who think I'm an Exemplary Mother,
that I made everyone in the house cry, this morning,
for no good reason, other than that I am a Satan-Spawned Bitch from Hell.
Even the dog isn't speaking to me.
Thank you so much.
Now then, have you bought your calendar for 2009, yet?
Or worked out what you're getting your Auntie Doris for Christmas?
Well, feast your eyes on this, baby...
The fact that we're actually featured in it,
alongside an illustrious array of fellow craftspeople, many of whom I draw regular and considerable inspiration from,
has no bearing on my insistence that you get your hands on a copy, whatsoever.
Available HERE.
Woohoo!
This New School idea is all very well, but it seems to have put paid to the idea of attending Old School all but completely.
Now, while I do recall mumbling something, under duress, about cutting the Creative Genius some slack, school-wise, a while back, somehow the teenage brain completely re-jigged this to mean,'You can totally stay home with me until, y'know, like, next January'.
Which I'm pretty sure is not what I meant at all but it's academic anyway, because she just went to school less and less, and now attends so rarely that I'm surprised no one's pulled her up to ask her who she is.
I was freaked out, at first. Kids are supposed to go to school, right? Otherwise Totally Scary Dudes in Suits turn up on your doorstep and take your children to the workhouse and you to a Gulag in Siberia.
But I'm nothing if not flexible, and more than a tad rebellious myself, and rather than force an unhappy teenager to attend Old School, which I know from direct personal experience would see her disaffected and wagging all day every day, (along with so many other Supposedly Enrolled Students that the school would do well to hold classes in the McCafe up the road), my inherent pragmatism (and Machiavellian cunning) inclined me to lose this battle gracefully, while retaining a stake in The War.
So.
We cut a deal. No computers or TV in the daytime. Under Punishment of Death. And while I am available to facilitate activities, I am not obliged to invent them. CG's time is her responsibility and she is expected to present me with creative proposals (subject to approval) for how she is going to use it.
It's inspiring what a kid will think up when motivated.
She paints. She draws. She reads. She writes. She has completely cleaned her room without prompting and is keeping it neat and tidy (those who know her well will gasp in wonder at that one). She arranges excursions for herself, going to work with family friends and colleagues to see what they do for a living. She visits sick old ladies in hospital. She's even managed to earn herself some money.
But best of all, the Creative Genius bakes. She bakes impressively. And she bakes almost every day.
My pantry's never looked so good.
And if she keeps all this up until the end of the year, I shall be obliged to concede that she will have learnt more in her last term at home than in the previous three terms of Old School combined, maintaining, what's more, a happy and well-adjusted disposition throughout.
Teenagers. They might drive you bonkers, but there really is a lot to be said for listening to them.
Mym's Melting Moments
Biscuits
6 oz (180g) softened butter
2oz (60g) sifted icing sugar
6oz (180g) plain flour
2oz (60g) custard powder
1/2 teaspoon vanilla essence
Filling
2oz (60g) softened butter
1/2 cup icing sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla essence
2 teaspoons milk
Preheat oven to 160 C (325 F). In a mixing bowl, cream butter and sugar. sift flour and custard powder 3 times, then mix into butter and sugar mixture. Stir in vanilla essence.
Line a baking tray with baking paper. Roll large teaspoons of mixture into balls and place on tray. Press biscuits down lightly with a fork.
Bake on the middle shelf for 15 to 20 minutes. Take care that biscuits show only the slightest hint of colour.
To make filling, cream butter and sifted icing sugar until light and fluffy. Add vanilla essence, then gradually add milk, beating well. Ice cooled undersides generously, and sandwich together in pairs.
Give away to Deserving Friends, lest your skin break out and you gain unnecessary weight.
Adapted from Frankie Magazine's Afternoon Tea
