There’s nothing quite like a hot scone dripping with jam and cream. Dieting folks, look away now.
Down here scones can be savoury (made with vegetables such as pumpkin, or combinations like ham and cheese) sweet (fruit scones) or plain - a good basic scone recipe tends to go down a treat for afternoon tea along with a cup of tea. They’re perfect winter fare, conjuring up images of comfort food, aprons and Grandmas. Of course, it’s summer down here, but we’ve just been through a particularly wintery rain spell so a batch of these were very much welcomed by my testers, Talented Hubby, Master J and Moo. Oh, and for the record, we pronouce them ’sconn’, not ’sc-own’, LOL.
Basic Scones
Makes 20
Ingredients:
4 cups (600g/1.3 lbs) self-raising flour
2 tablespoons icing (confectioners) sugar
60g (a little over 2 oz) butter
1 ½ cups (375ml/12.5 oz) milk
¾ cup (180ml/6 oz) water
* thickened/whipping cream to serve
* jam to serve
Method:
Preheat oven to 200ºC (430ºF/very hot). Line a shallow 20cm x 30cm (8″x11″) pan with non-stick baking paper.
Sift flour and sugar into a large bowl; rub in butter with fingertips until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs.
Make a well in the centre of the flour mixture, add milk and almost all of the water. Use a knife to ‘cut’ the milk and water through the flour mixture, mixing to a soft, sticky dough (begin by adding the milk and then add the water only as needed to form the right consistency - the last time I made these, I didn’t need any water at all and they still turned out lovely). Knead dough on floured surface until smooth.
Press dough out to 2cm (¾ inch) thickness (no need for a rolling pin, just use your hands). Dip a 4.5cm (1 ¾ inch) round cutter in flour, cut rounds from dough. Knead together the dough scraps and repeat until all used up. Place scones, side by side, just touching, in pan.
Brush tops with a little extra milk; bake about 15 minutes or until scones are just browned and sound hollow when tapped.
While the scones are baking, pour some cream into a small bowl and attack it with a stick blender to make it lovely and thick. Serve these mounds of deliciousness with jam and cream.
Note: Scones are best served the day they are made, fresh and hot out of the oven. You can freeze them but they never really compare to fresh-baked so for best results, keep the batches small (and just bake them more often!)
Monday, December 29, 2008
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Lizzie's Homemade Pizza Recipe
Are you all turkey-ed out? Can’t stuff another morsel in? Have a fridge full of wilting salad and leftover meats?
Pizza might not be traditional holiday fare, but if you’re anything like me, sometimes a complete 180º on the cuisine front sounds FANTASTIC after so many platefuls of ham and roast potatoes. Plus it’s a great way to use up leftovers!
The secret is in the dough. I tried making homemade pizza dough for YEARS, failing miserably each time, until I stumbled across a recipe on Mrs Catherine’s Making It Home Xanga site (now unavailable, unfortunately) for the lightest, fluffiest, failproof crust ever. I have never had a soggy crust since using this recipe. I puffy heart it so much it made it into my continually-evolving Family Cookbook (keep an eye out for that post in a few weeks!)
Lizzie’s Homemade Pizza (with props to Mrs Catherine!)
Dough makes 3 large/8 small/16 mini pizzas
Ingredients
2 tablespoons dry yeast
2 cups warm water
¼ teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon olive oil
5-7 cups baker’s flour (if you have it: higher protein content) or plain/all purpose flour
Suggested toppings: tomato paste, pizza herbs (basil, oregano), shredded mozzarella, ham, pepperoni, semi-dried tomatoes, red and green capsicum (bell peppers), pineapple pieces, leftover cooked chicken or turkey, leftover cooked vegetables.
Method
Run a large mixing bowl under hot water to warm it. Add sugar and yeast to bowl and pour in warm water. Mix thoroughly and set aside for a few minutes until bubbles appear on the surface.
Add salt, oil and flour and mix to a firm dough. Knead on a lightly-floured benchtop for a few minutes. Roll into a ball shape.
Lightly grease the large bowl and return the dough ball. Cover and set aside in a warm place to rise (we’ve used the car and outside on the trampolene in the sun before! Whatever works!). Rising time can vary depending on the warmth of the spot you choose (as little as 25 mins in a warm car or as long as 60 mins just sitting on the benchtop). You want it doubled in size.
Preheat the oven to 200ºC (395ºF).
Punch the dough down and knead on a lightly floured benchtop for a further 5 minutes. Divide the dough into whatever portions are needed and roll out to desired thickness (the dough will rise a bit during cooking).
Place on an oven tray lined with non-stick baking paper and add whatever toppings you like. Bake 15-20 minutes or until cheese is melted.
Drool when you catch a whiff of it fresh out of the oven. Enjoy!
Personally, I could have leftover roast ham and turkey along with the usual repeat of Christmas day side dishes for a clear week after the celebrations end but even I have my limits eventually! Kids seem to really enjoy their very own individual pizza made with their own choice of toppings and the dough recipe translates well to foccacia as well - just roll out thicker and make depressions in the dough at regular intervals. Yummo!
Pizza might not be traditional holiday fare, but if you’re anything like me, sometimes a complete 180º on the cuisine front sounds FANTASTIC after so many platefuls of ham and roast potatoes. Plus it’s a great way to use up leftovers!
The secret is in the dough. I tried making homemade pizza dough for YEARS, failing miserably each time, until I stumbled across a recipe on Mrs Catherine’s Making It Home Xanga site (now unavailable, unfortunately) for the lightest, fluffiest, failproof crust ever. I have never had a soggy crust since using this recipe. I puffy heart it so much it made it into my continually-evolving Family Cookbook (keep an eye out for that post in a few weeks!)
Lizzie’s Homemade Pizza (with props to Mrs Catherine!)
Dough makes 3 large/8 small/16 mini pizzas
Ingredients
2 tablespoons dry yeast
2 cups warm water
¼ teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon olive oil
5-7 cups baker’s flour (if you have it: higher protein content) or plain/all purpose flour
Suggested toppings: tomato paste, pizza herbs (basil, oregano), shredded mozzarella, ham, pepperoni, semi-dried tomatoes, red and green capsicum (bell peppers), pineapple pieces, leftover cooked chicken or turkey, leftover cooked vegetables.
Method
Run a large mixing bowl under hot water to warm it. Add sugar and yeast to bowl and pour in warm water. Mix thoroughly and set aside for a few minutes until bubbles appear on the surface.
Add salt, oil and flour and mix to a firm dough. Knead on a lightly-floured benchtop for a few minutes. Roll into a ball shape.
Lightly grease the large bowl and return the dough ball. Cover and set aside in a warm place to rise (we’ve used the car and outside on the trampolene in the sun before! Whatever works!). Rising time can vary depending on the warmth of the spot you choose (as little as 25 mins in a warm car or as long as 60 mins just sitting on the benchtop). You want it doubled in size.
Preheat the oven to 200ºC (395ºF).
Punch the dough down and knead on a lightly floured benchtop for a further 5 minutes. Divide the dough into whatever portions are needed and roll out to desired thickness (the dough will rise a bit during cooking).
Place on an oven tray lined with non-stick baking paper and add whatever toppings you like. Bake 15-20 minutes or until cheese is melted.
Drool when you catch a whiff of it fresh out of the oven. Enjoy!
Personally, I could have leftover roast ham and turkey along with the usual repeat of Christmas day side dishes for a clear week after the celebrations end but even I have my limits eventually! Kids seem to really enjoy their very own individual pizza made with their own choice of toppings and the dough recipe translates well to foccacia as well - just roll out thicker and make depressions in the dough at regular intervals. Yummo!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Guitar Hero Hilarity
Because we’ll be travelling this silly season, we gave the kids one of their major Christmas presents early. Have you seen the size of the Guitar Hero World Tour Complete Band Set box? Gi-gan-ta-nor-mous. As it was we were going to struggle fitting all the children and the luggage in so we had to make a decision. Leave a child and take the game, or open the game now and squeeze the child in. Hmmm - tough choice, LOL.
All three Piglets had put this on their list. Normally we would not go for something as expensive - and never for an individual’s gift - but with the amount of time Talented Hubby devotes to this particular game franchise we knew we’d get our money’s worth as a family.
As predicted, they have all become totally engrossed. We’ve had Guitar Hero II, and then III in the past but with the addition of a set of drums and a microphone with World Tour, everyone can have a turn at once. See what we did there? Purchased a game where nobody has to wait? That’s some good parenting right there folks!
But man, it is HILARIOUS to watch our children bang away on those instruments.
The guitar bit they can handle. The drums are taking a bit longer to master but that’s to be expected - they are my children after all, and I’m famously unco-ordinated (actually, I’m surprised any of them can work the guitar either, but I guess the influence of my DNA is overriden by Talented Hubby’s prominent “I am man, see me game!” genes, LOL). But its the effort at the microphone that makes TH and I continously snigger.
Oh, I shouldn’t say that, should I? LOL. No, my kids are awesome singers (giggle).
Master J works the ‘phone like he’s a contestant on Don’t Forget The Lyrics (one of his favourite shows), Boof’s just happy if he can get all the words out and Moo has taken one look at her brother’s efforts and dissolved into a puddle of shyness. I can’t blame her really. I’m waiting until school starts and TH’s back at work again and only then will I pick up the mic myself. Don’t laugh. You know you’d be dying to as well!
The thing with Guitar Hero is, it’s addictive. I sat down for one song (guitar only…did you not read the above paragraph? LOL) and walked away an hour later. It’s very hard not to get caught up when Bon Jovi’s Livin’ On A Prayer comes up on the playlist.
At $270 AUD it’s definitely NOT a cheap option. But we had a little extra this Christmas and instead of lots of smaller presents that have ‘big bang’ value for a couple of days but get overlooked thereafter, Guitar Hero has staying power.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a jammin’ date with Mr Bon Jovi to attend.
All three Piglets had put this on their list. Normally we would not go for something as expensive - and never for an individual’s gift - but with the amount of time Talented Hubby devotes to this particular game franchise we knew we’d get our money’s worth as a family.
As predicted, they have all become totally engrossed. We’ve had Guitar Hero II, and then III in the past but with the addition of a set of drums and a microphone with World Tour, everyone can have a turn at once. See what we did there? Purchased a game where nobody has to wait? That’s some good parenting right there folks!
But man, it is HILARIOUS to watch our children bang away on those instruments.
The guitar bit they can handle. The drums are taking a bit longer to master but that’s to be expected - they are my children after all, and I’m famously unco-ordinated (actually, I’m surprised any of them can work the guitar either, but I guess the influence of my DNA is overriden by Talented Hubby’s prominent “I am man, see me game!” genes, LOL). But its the effort at the microphone that makes TH and I continously snigger.
Oh, I shouldn’t say that, should I? LOL. No, my kids are awesome singers (giggle).
Master J works the ‘phone like he’s a contestant on Don’t Forget The Lyrics (one of his favourite shows), Boof’s just happy if he can get all the words out and Moo has taken one look at her brother’s efforts and dissolved into a puddle of shyness. I can’t blame her really. I’m waiting until school starts and TH’s back at work again and only then will I pick up the mic myself. Don’t laugh. You know you’d be dying to as well!
The thing with Guitar Hero is, it’s addictive. I sat down for one song (guitar only…did you not read the above paragraph? LOL) and walked away an hour later. It’s very hard not to get caught up when Bon Jovi’s Livin’ On A Prayer comes up on the playlist.
At $270 AUD it’s definitely NOT a cheap option. But we had a little extra this Christmas and instead of lots of smaller presents that have ‘big bang’ value for a couple of days but get overlooked thereafter, Guitar Hero has staying power.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a jammin’ date with Mr Bon Jovi to attend.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
I Think I'll Go Rock In That Corner Right Over There
I just happened to glance up at the calendar and GOOD LORD IT IS NEARLY THE WEEK OF CHRISTMAS AND I HAVE DONE ALMOST NO CHRISTMAS SHOPPING AND HELLO, WE’RE TRAVELLING OVER THE SILLY SEASON WHICH LEAVES ME WITHOUT THOSE EXTRA COUPLE OF DAYS SHOPPING AND…
That wasn’t me shouting. That was my brain exploding with nuclear force.
This is the VERY last year I say to myself, “Oh wow, how lovely is this ‘no shopping, no stress’ Christmas thing? I love not beating down the other shoppers! I enjoy the complete absence of a ‘to buy’ list. Oh joy!” The absolute last time I say that because it is COMPLETE AND UTTER BUNKUM.
I will be shopping for Christmas ‘09 with my back-to-school gear in mid-January, thankyouverymuch.
We are in a state of chaos. We have perhaps a fifth of our list done. We’ve never left it this late to shop before. I don’t know WHAT I was thinking.
Over the course of six days I have to:
Shop for FIFTEEN PEOPLE.
Buy two additional presents, one of which is our daughter’s seventh birthday gift and the other my MIL’s birthday gift for January.
Post a last minute parcel.
Wash every scrap of clothing we own.
Pack five suitcases.
Clean the entire house.
Auto-post a ridiculous amount of content for Lizzie’s Home.
Buy this year’s ’special ornaments’ for the kids (they each get a new one every year)
Finish a handmade Christmas present (at least two night’s worth, maybe more).
Empty and scrub the fridge.
Book a restaurant for Moo’s birthday on Friday.
Bake a dog cake for said child’s birthday. I may get away with a dog-themed icing transfer and a bakery cake if I’m lucky. Poor Moo.
Take the kids out for breakfast on Moo’s day.
Spend at least a portion of Friday on a ‘Family Fun Trip’ for Moo’s day (we do special things in lieu of a party).
Make several phone calls relating to the puppy the kids are getting - or rather, the promise of the puppy they’re getting - for Christmas.
Fit in a trip to the cinema. And yes, I realise how silly this sounds given what I have to do but I try to carve out a little ‘me’ time each year to go see whatever holiday film is on and I’ll be doing that this year too, even if I have to sell the children to manage it.
School is out for the year, and Talented Hubby is on annual leave for the next several weeks (phew) but we literally only have until Sunday night to shop for EVERYTHING. I promised the kids we would try to fit in a day where each of them would come out with me alone but I’m going to have to start sucking down those Red Bulls if I’m going to pull this one off. TH also has to go back into work Saturday (long story), so that’s one less day for shopping, unless I bribe them all with sugar and drag them all with me. I love my little people to pieces but their patience (and my own) only goes so far and we’re talking INDUSTRIAL STRENGTH Christmas shopping here - and everything will take six times as long because there’s a bazillion more people out there panicking in the exact same way. Compounding matters is the fact that the Australian government just gave most parents and carer’s $1000 per eligible child with instructions to ’spend up big for the economy’s sake’. Personally, ours will go toward our trip and the cost of set up for the puppy, but there are enough people in the shopping centres carrying PlayStation and Wii boxes for me to know where at least SOME of the government’s money is going.
Godspeed Lizzie. Godspeed.
Sigh.
That wasn’t me shouting. That was my brain exploding with nuclear force.
This is the VERY last year I say to myself, “Oh wow, how lovely is this ‘no shopping, no stress’ Christmas thing? I love not beating down the other shoppers! I enjoy the complete absence of a ‘to buy’ list. Oh joy!” The absolute last time I say that because it is COMPLETE AND UTTER BUNKUM.
I will be shopping for Christmas ‘09 with my back-to-school gear in mid-January, thankyouverymuch.
We are in a state of chaos. We have perhaps a fifth of our list done. We’ve never left it this late to shop before. I don’t know WHAT I was thinking.
Over the course of six days I have to:
Shop for FIFTEEN PEOPLE.
Buy two additional presents, one of which is our daughter’s seventh birthday gift and the other my MIL’s birthday gift for January.
Post a last minute parcel.
Wash every scrap of clothing we own.
Pack five suitcases.
Clean the entire house.
Auto-post a ridiculous amount of content for Lizzie’s Home.
Buy this year’s ’special ornaments’ for the kids (they each get a new one every year)
Finish a handmade Christmas present (at least two night’s worth, maybe more).
Empty and scrub the fridge.
Book a restaurant for Moo’s birthday on Friday.
Bake a dog cake for said child’s birthday. I may get away with a dog-themed icing transfer and a bakery cake if I’m lucky. Poor Moo.
Take the kids out for breakfast on Moo’s day.
Spend at least a portion of Friday on a ‘Family Fun Trip’ for Moo’s day (we do special things in lieu of a party).
Make several phone calls relating to the puppy the kids are getting - or rather, the promise of the puppy they’re getting - for Christmas.
Fit in a trip to the cinema. And yes, I realise how silly this sounds given what I have to do but I try to carve out a little ‘me’ time each year to go see whatever holiday film is on and I’ll be doing that this year too, even if I have to sell the children to manage it.
School is out for the year, and Talented Hubby is on annual leave for the next several weeks (phew) but we literally only have until Sunday night to shop for EVERYTHING. I promised the kids we would try to fit in a day where each of them would come out with me alone but I’m going to have to start sucking down those Red Bulls if I’m going to pull this one off. TH also has to go back into work Saturday (long story), so that’s one less day for shopping, unless I bribe them all with sugar and drag them all with me. I love my little people to pieces but their patience (and my own) only goes so far and we’re talking INDUSTRIAL STRENGTH Christmas shopping here - and everything will take six times as long because there’s a bazillion more people out there panicking in the exact same way. Compounding matters is the fact that the Australian government just gave most parents and carer’s $1000 per eligible child with instructions to ’spend up big for the economy’s sake’. Personally, ours will go toward our trip and the cost of set up for the puppy, but there are enough people in the shopping centres carrying PlayStation and Wii boxes for me to know where at least SOME of the government’s money is going.
Godspeed Lizzie. Godspeed.
Sigh.
Friday, December 12, 2008
I'd Like To Introduce You To Miss Gappy McGapperton
A week from today, my baby, my Little Miss Moo/Princess Moo/Schmiggie/Miggie will turn seven years old. SEVEN. I mean, being the mother of a recently-turned-ten-year-old made me feel old enough, but somehow, illogically, being the mother of a seven year old and knowing she’s our youngest…my heart crept one step closer to pacemaker status, I’m sure of it.
When she was born, I was just barely 22 years old. And I already had three years of parenting experience under my belt. Good golly I was young! In Moo’s first year, we went through an autism diagnosis (Master J), a MAJOR career reconfiguration (Talented Hubby), a six month training stint living away from home during the week, home on weekends only (TH), therapy playgroups, speech assessments, medical appointments - the list goes on. At one point we had a special needs preschooler, a toddler and a newborn and I didn’t drive, requiring me to walk/bus it to all these various things. Thank God Moo was breastfed and therefore highly portable!
A lot has changed since Moo was born. I went from being the sole feminine influence in three boys’ everyday lives to being the mother of a honest-to-goodness Little Girl. The day the ultrasound technician pointed out the ‘two lines’ indicating her ‘girly bits’, I was beyond thrilled. My boys are healthy and happy and for that I am supremely grateful but a little girl to shadow me in the kitchen, to teach how to (badly) knit, to snuggle up watching Anne of Green Gables with? I do believe I cried, goop-covered belly and all. Later, at her birth (with the camera rolling) I was heard to say, repeatedly, “Is she still a girl?” like I expected her gender to have changed in the five seconds since I last looked (and as an aside, my GOODNESS ‘down there’ really DOES stretch like a turtleneck, huh? I’d never seen it from the southern perspective before! LOL)
Afterward, when I’d showered - and it was a great birth, the best of the lot - and returned to my room, I lay on my hospital bed. I savoured the sheer bliss of lying directly on my back, something I’d not been able to do with any degree of an open airway since around my fifth month, and proceeded to unwrap my ‘Christmas Present’. I laid a cloth nappy on my bare belly - just enough to cover me in case of an, uh, ‘meconium explosion’ on her part - and stripped my new baby down. I held her, vertical monkey-style, her raven head resting between The Milk Bar, the bare skin of her touching my skin, and I covered the both of us up with a blanket. We rested.
She smelled so good, that new baby scent. I kept stroking her deliciously curly hair - we’re all ruler-straight around here - and shaking my head in disbelief. We were warm and cozy and soon fell asleep. Talented Hubby must have returned from whatever part of the hospital he’d escaped to at some point because I woke to find Moo suitably diapered, dressed and fast asleep in her hospital crib and I’d had my pyjamas re-buttoned, LOL. I honestly can’t remember a time where I’d felt so content.
But my little girl, who has now officially passed the age my sister was when I - the ’surprise’ baby - was born, is so big and tall and, well, grown-up. It’s sad! With each passing year we mourn the loss of another childhood icon. No more Little People. No more buying baby dolls (not that she has fully outgrown them yet - just that she already has plenty!), and no more gorgeous little toddler/preschool/kindergarten aged clothing. Soon we’ll be saying goodbye to My Little Ponys and Cabbage Patch Kids. Never again will I buy a 000 sleeper. Never again will we have to install a baby carseat. Never again will The Milk Bar be open for business!
To make matters worse, tonight Moo lost her third tooth in two weeks and the second of her two front teeth. Even her baby teeth are dropping like flies! The sight of her in all her gappy glory, grinning from ear to ear, made me realise that she has well and truly entered into a brand new phase of childhood.
I am so not prepared for this!
When she was born, I was just barely 22 years old. And I already had three years of parenting experience under my belt. Good golly I was young! In Moo’s first year, we went through an autism diagnosis (Master J), a MAJOR career reconfiguration (Talented Hubby), a six month training stint living away from home during the week, home on weekends only (TH), therapy playgroups, speech assessments, medical appointments - the list goes on. At one point we had a special needs preschooler, a toddler and a newborn and I didn’t drive, requiring me to walk/bus it to all these various things. Thank God Moo was breastfed and therefore highly portable!
A lot has changed since Moo was born. I went from being the sole feminine influence in three boys’ everyday lives to being the mother of a honest-to-goodness Little Girl. The day the ultrasound technician pointed out the ‘two lines’ indicating her ‘girly bits’, I was beyond thrilled. My boys are healthy and happy and for that I am supremely grateful but a little girl to shadow me in the kitchen, to teach how to (badly) knit, to snuggle up watching Anne of Green Gables with? I do believe I cried, goop-covered belly and all. Later, at her birth (with the camera rolling) I was heard to say, repeatedly, “Is she still a girl?” like I expected her gender to have changed in the five seconds since I last looked (and as an aside, my GOODNESS ‘down there’ really DOES stretch like a turtleneck, huh? I’d never seen it from the southern perspective before! LOL)
Afterward, when I’d showered - and it was a great birth, the best of the lot - and returned to my room, I lay on my hospital bed. I savoured the sheer bliss of lying directly on my back, something I’d not been able to do with any degree of an open airway since around my fifth month, and proceeded to unwrap my ‘Christmas Present’. I laid a cloth nappy on my bare belly - just enough to cover me in case of an, uh, ‘meconium explosion’ on her part - and stripped my new baby down. I held her, vertical monkey-style, her raven head resting between The Milk Bar, the bare skin of her touching my skin, and I covered the both of us up with a blanket. We rested.
She smelled so good, that new baby scent. I kept stroking her deliciously curly hair - we’re all ruler-straight around here - and shaking my head in disbelief. We were warm and cozy and soon fell asleep. Talented Hubby must have returned from whatever part of the hospital he’d escaped to at some point because I woke to find Moo suitably diapered, dressed and fast asleep in her hospital crib and I’d had my pyjamas re-buttoned, LOL. I honestly can’t remember a time where I’d felt so content.
But my little girl, who has now officially passed the age my sister was when I - the ’surprise’ baby - was born, is so big and tall and, well, grown-up. It’s sad! With each passing year we mourn the loss of another childhood icon. No more Little People. No more buying baby dolls (not that she has fully outgrown them yet - just that she already has plenty!), and no more gorgeous little toddler/preschool/kindergarten aged clothing. Soon we’ll be saying goodbye to My Little Ponys and Cabbage Patch Kids. Never again will I buy a 000 sleeper. Never again will we have to install a baby carseat. Never again will The Milk Bar be open for business!
To make matters worse, tonight Moo lost her third tooth in two weeks and the second of her two front teeth. Even her baby teeth are dropping like flies! The sight of her in all her gappy glory, grinning from ear to ear, made me realise that she has well and truly entered into a brand new phase of childhood.
I am so not prepared for this!
Thursday, December 11, 2008
School's Out!
I love having a laptop. I’m sitting in my loungeroom, by my front window, while typing this - I’m waiting for Master J to arrive home in his taxi. Our neighbours probably wonder about this - a taxi picking up a school kid morning and afternoon - but our closest neighbours are not the sort of people you want to share personal information with. Certainly nothing quite as personal as a child’s disability and transport arrangements. As it is, the father of the ‘across the street’ household feels it necessary to leerily acknowledge me every time I walk out of the house. And as I’m clicking away at my keyboard, I can hear the same man and his wife YELLING at each other from what appears to be opposite ends of their house. I am sitting at least thirty metres (90 or so feet) away inside my own house and I can hear them clear as day. Yeah. Not giving out personal details to those folk!
Talented Hubby has me a bit worried at the moment. He’s about the busiest he’s ever been at work and people keep giving him more work without allowing him the time to finish the old stuff. His job is one where ‘urgent’ matters must be dealt with straight away but this leaves him in a pretty pickle. He goes on a 3 week stint of annual leave in one week but we both suspect he’ll be working a couple of extra days - unpaid - just to catch up. There are certain things that cannot wait until he returns from leave so he’s forced to work the extra. It’s frustrating for me because I can’t in any way help him with his workload. The only thing I can do is minimise craziness here at home (yeah, good luck with that Lizzie - school’s out!) so that when he does walk through the door, he can ’switch off’ more readily. The more he relaxes at home, the better he is able to deal with the horrendous amount of work stuff he’s got on his plate at the moment. Still, I wish I could take some of the burden from him.
Boof and Moo have officially finished school for the year - bye bye Grades 3 and 1! Moo also managed to lose another tooth today, making it a total of three falling out over about a three week period (the third one is just baaaaarely hanging on). Two of those teeth are her top front ones. Christmas pictures this year are going to be just de-light-ful, LOL.
Oh, what kerfuffle for the last day of term/the school year though! Total insanity! But all the kids had a good last day - Boof managed to score a classroom pizza party and a Kris Kringle with the other students in his class today (not to mention a nearly 700 strong school excursion to a fun park on Monday!) and Moo has pretty much been celebrating all week, with a student representative council (of which she’s been a part of this semester) party on Tuesday, her class party on Wednesday and nothing but crafts today. Everyone is exhausted. We gave our teacher gifts out yesterday and Boof’s teacher, upon hearing about Talented Hubby’s photography, asked if we had any spare calendars of his work at home. We did, so she bought one to use as a Christmas present (I don’t know how the man does it. I can’t get a magazine to pick up my work and he keeps selling the same shots over and over with great success! LOL). Master J doesn’t officially finish school for the year until tomorrow but his last day will also prove to be a pretty cushy arrangement, I’m sure. As we have an unexpected extra day off for Boof and Moo, I’m taking them to the movies tomorrow morning while J is still in school - frugal, as it was a free double movie pass given to TH through his work.
And that’s about the time that I’ll get home, collapse, eat some chocolate and alternatively rejoice/sink into a pit of despair over the fact we have 6 weeks of summer holidays stretching out in front of us - probably in that order too. I love my children a ridiculous amount but by golly, they can be NOISE-EEE.
I really hope January bucks the trend and remains in the moderate temps. We’ve had barely a decent ’summery warm’ day so far this late spring/early summer which is a bit unusual and usually means a later start to summer proper, and hotter, dryer temperatures. Last year our city secured a new record - the longest metro 35ºC (95ºF) plus heatwave since they began keeping records back in the dark ages. I thought I was going to DIE.
You Florida and Arizona folk must be made of galvanized steel (for toughness) fashioned with portable cooling systems because that kind of heat on a regular basis would make me want to shrivel up in a little ball and cry. A LOT.
Talented Hubby has me a bit worried at the moment. He’s about the busiest he’s ever been at work and people keep giving him more work without allowing him the time to finish the old stuff. His job is one where ‘urgent’ matters must be dealt with straight away but this leaves him in a pretty pickle. He goes on a 3 week stint of annual leave in one week but we both suspect he’ll be working a couple of extra days - unpaid - just to catch up. There are certain things that cannot wait until he returns from leave so he’s forced to work the extra. It’s frustrating for me because I can’t in any way help him with his workload. The only thing I can do is minimise craziness here at home (yeah, good luck with that Lizzie - school’s out!) so that when he does walk through the door, he can ’switch off’ more readily. The more he relaxes at home, the better he is able to deal with the horrendous amount of work stuff he’s got on his plate at the moment. Still, I wish I could take some of the burden from him.
Boof and Moo have officially finished school for the year - bye bye Grades 3 and 1! Moo also managed to lose another tooth today, making it a total of three falling out over about a three week period (the third one is just baaaaarely hanging on). Two of those teeth are her top front ones. Christmas pictures this year are going to be just de-light-ful, LOL.
Oh, what kerfuffle for the last day of term/the school year though! Total insanity! But all the kids had a good last day - Boof managed to score a classroom pizza party and a Kris Kringle with the other students in his class today (not to mention a nearly 700 strong school excursion to a fun park on Monday!) and Moo has pretty much been celebrating all week, with a student representative council (of which she’s been a part of this semester) party on Tuesday, her class party on Wednesday and nothing but crafts today. Everyone is exhausted. We gave our teacher gifts out yesterday and Boof’s teacher, upon hearing about Talented Hubby’s photography, asked if we had any spare calendars of his work at home. We did, so she bought one to use as a Christmas present (I don’t know how the man does it. I can’t get a magazine to pick up my work and he keeps selling the same shots over and over with great success! LOL). Master J doesn’t officially finish school for the year until tomorrow but his last day will also prove to be a pretty cushy arrangement, I’m sure. As we have an unexpected extra day off for Boof and Moo, I’m taking them to the movies tomorrow morning while J is still in school - frugal, as it was a free double movie pass given to TH through his work.
And that’s about the time that I’ll get home, collapse, eat some chocolate and alternatively rejoice/sink into a pit of despair over the fact we have 6 weeks of summer holidays stretching out in front of us - probably in that order too. I love my children a ridiculous amount but by golly, they can be NOISE-EEE.
I really hope January bucks the trend and remains in the moderate temps. We’ve had barely a decent ’summery warm’ day so far this late spring/early summer which is a bit unusual and usually means a later start to summer proper, and hotter, dryer temperatures. Last year our city secured a new record - the longest metro 35ºC (95ºF) plus heatwave since they began keeping records back in the dark ages. I thought I was going to DIE.
You Florida and Arizona folk must be made of galvanized steel (for toughness) fashioned with portable cooling systems because that kind of heat on a regular basis would make me want to shrivel up in a little ball and cry. A LOT.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Does Switching BACK To Blogger Mean Returning To The Dark Ages?
I’ve got a bit of a conundrum. My domain registration, and therefore my web hosting, is up for renewal in late February - I got a reminder notice this week.
When Lizzie’s Home first started, it was on Blogger, and I was with them for about a year. I began to get frustrated with the lack of features compared to what I was hearing about Wordpress. Bloggy friends urged me to make the leap, and I did. Talented Hubby (who couldn’t then, and still doesn’t now, fully understand the lure of blogging, LOL) and I made a deal - we would pay for one year of registration and hosting and when the time came to renew, I would work out how to make the blog itself pay for an additional year.
You might already know that Lizzie’s Home does not accept paid advertising. This was a decision I made in the beginning due to personal conviction and honestly? My stats were poor (still are compared to most bloggers I read) and wouldn’t have garnered me much in cash anyway - and so weren’t likely to get me the $85 (AUD) or so needed to renew everything (and for the record, this isn’t for expensive hosting either. It’s the cheapest one I could find - without resorting to the ad-filled free host providers - at $4 US per month). In typical Lizzie fashion, I’ve put off thinking about it again until I needed to. That would be now.
In the time that I’ve been with Wordpress, Blogger has improved its features markedly. There are far more gadgets to choose from now and you can schedule posts, the lack of which, as silly as this sounds, was a big bug-bear for me before. And I’m not Miss Uber Blogger. Not likely to be either. I natter away here and I’m happy with that. It’s perhaps not so important for me, who doesn’t have much of a desire to make blogging a ‘business’, to have the very high customisation level that Wordpress gives.
So. Here’s where I’m at, and I’d like your opinions. These are random thoughts and questions. Decipher at will :P
I can re-examine my ‘no ads’ policy now that the blog is ever-so-slightly more popular than in the first couple of months. It may not help me in time for my 2009 renewal but perhaps the year after that. Not sure how I feel about that. If there was a way I could make the blog self-sustaining without resorting to ads, then I’d do that, but I can’t work out how that could be possible. Ideas?
I could finish that ebook I’ve had on the go for donkey’s years and sell a few copies.
I have a second blog, Binder Basics, which has always been on Blogger. The difference in ease-of-editing between that one and here is HUGE. If I want to change the size of a font in the sidebar on Lizzie’s Home I have to go through a convoluted process of copying the CSS file, altering it, reuploading it through ftp (FileZilla), hoping it works, then viewing the site live. If it didn’t work or just looks wrong, I have to repeat the process. It takes forever. Binder Basics on the other hand, requires just a simple tweak in the ‘Edit HTML’ box, and you can preview it before it goes live. No extra file transfer stuff at all. And HTML just seems easier to me somehow. There’s one file - as opposed to perhaps a dozen with Lizzie’s Home. If I want to change the header on Blogger, its dead easy. If I want to change the font of the main posts on Lizzie’s Home, that’s one file. If I want to change the pictures in the boxes you see to your right, that’s an entirely different file. Plus like ten more. Each requiring the FileZilla treatment. Tedious. Which is probably why you’ve been staring at the same blank boxes for weeks and weeks. Sometimes you just want to get in and get out. Some die-hard Wordpress users will have developed shortcuts or know how to better edit and preview their pages using a specialist web browser (tried that) but if I’m honest with myself, blogging will never be my ‘business’ and every hour spent tweaking along at a snail’s pace is an hour I’m not concentrating on family.
There have been some concerns in Bloggityville in the past about Blogger controlling your content - if Blogger goes belly-up for whatever reason, then your blog (and all your hard work) is toast. Can someone give me some facts about that? It was one of the reasons I switched but even before I did, I had never had a problem with Blogger freezing me out of my blog unless it was for routine maintenance (and so was common to all Blogger blogs, and only for a couple of hours at a time).
The big question - how important is a ’dot com’ to me? It’s nice to have a nice short URL, but if I am otherwise satisfied with the features and ease-of-use of Blogger, is it worth paying $85 (probably more now the Aussie dollar has dropped against the US buck) for what essentially amounts to blog branding? If I’m not actually selling anything here (and so don’t have to make it super-dooper easy for customers to get to me via the shortest possible URL), and most of my readers do so through Google Reader or Bloglines (ie, not typing in the address each time), then how much does a longer URL matter? Is it possible to have a successful blog at Blogger? Are all the big name folk with Wordpress or Typepad and is that what differentiates them as ‘big name’ (because they can customise to the minute detail and create something totally unique)? I’ve seen some awesome Blogger blogs that have been wonderfully set up. To be honest, this is the biggest sticking poing for me - is it worth paying this money simply for a dot com?
Another biggie: How many readers will I lose switching back? I was disheartened to see a 30+ subscriber drop in the last day or two and I’m hoping its a glitch like that one that saw me excited to see the flip side of 100 not too long ago. How many more will leave if I go back to the harder to remember ….blogspot.com?
AND… is it even POSSIBLE to import old posts TO Blogger? I know you can (obviously) import TO Wordpress, but is it possible to reverse it? If I found out it couldn’t be done, then game over, I’m sticking with Wordpress.
As I said, I’ve seen some really beautiful Blogger designs and there’s always the option of hiring a designer down the track a bit if I can’t come up with something cool on my own. In the meantime, as I work my way through the editing process for Binder Basics, I can’t help feeling a bit annoyed that it isn’t that easy for both blogs. Then I look at Lizzie’s Home and LOVE the idea of pages, which you can’t get in Blogger. Clearly, I need someone to rationally discuss the pros and cons with me.
Fire away folks! Thoughts are much appreciated. If a blogger switched URLs on you, how much hassle (re-subscribing to new URL etc) would you go through to keep reading? If its a blog you enjoy, would it bother you much if the URL got longer or wasn’t quite so ‘brand-y’?
* This post originally uploaded to lizzieshome.com. I've since made the plunge back to Blogger and haven't regretted it at all! Well, except when it came to manually transferring alllll my posts from my 'Wordpress year' over, LOL.
When Lizzie’s Home first started, it was on Blogger, and I was with them for about a year. I began to get frustrated with the lack of features compared to what I was hearing about Wordpress. Bloggy friends urged me to make the leap, and I did. Talented Hubby (who couldn’t then, and still doesn’t now, fully understand the lure of blogging, LOL) and I made a deal - we would pay for one year of registration and hosting and when the time came to renew, I would work out how to make the blog itself pay for an additional year.
You might already know that Lizzie’s Home does not accept paid advertising. This was a decision I made in the beginning due to personal conviction and honestly? My stats were poor (still are compared to most bloggers I read) and wouldn’t have garnered me much in cash anyway - and so weren’t likely to get me the $85 (AUD) or so needed to renew everything (and for the record, this isn’t for expensive hosting either. It’s the cheapest one I could find - without resorting to the ad-filled free host providers - at $4 US per month). In typical Lizzie fashion, I’ve put off thinking about it again until I needed to. That would be now.
In the time that I’ve been with Wordpress, Blogger has improved its features markedly. There are far more gadgets to choose from now and you can schedule posts, the lack of which, as silly as this sounds, was a big bug-bear for me before. And I’m not Miss Uber Blogger. Not likely to be either. I natter away here and I’m happy with that. It’s perhaps not so important for me, who doesn’t have much of a desire to make blogging a ‘business’, to have the very high customisation level that Wordpress gives.
So. Here’s where I’m at, and I’d like your opinions. These are random thoughts and questions. Decipher at will :P
I can re-examine my ‘no ads’ policy now that the blog is ever-so-slightly more popular than in the first couple of months. It may not help me in time for my 2009 renewal but perhaps the year after that. Not sure how I feel about that. If there was a way I could make the blog self-sustaining without resorting to ads, then I’d do that, but I can’t work out how that could be possible. Ideas?
I could finish that ebook I’ve had on the go for donkey’s years and sell a few copies.
I have a second blog, Binder Basics, which has always been on Blogger. The difference in ease-of-editing between that one and here is HUGE. If I want to change the size of a font in the sidebar on Lizzie’s Home I have to go through a convoluted process of copying the CSS file, altering it, reuploading it through ftp (FileZilla), hoping it works, then viewing the site live. If it didn’t work or just looks wrong, I have to repeat the process. It takes forever. Binder Basics on the other hand, requires just a simple tweak in the ‘Edit HTML’ box, and you can preview it before it goes live. No extra file transfer stuff at all. And HTML just seems easier to me somehow. There’s one file - as opposed to perhaps a dozen with Lizzie’s Home. If I want to change the header on Blogger, its dead easy. If I want to change the font of the main posts on Lizzie’s Home, that’s one file. If I want to change the pictures in the boxes you see to your right, that’s an entirely different file. Plus like ten more. Each requiring the FileZilla treatment. Tedious. Which is probably why you’ve been staring at the same blank boxes for weeks and weeks. Sometimes you just want to get in and get out. Some die-hard Wordpress users will have developed shortcuts or know how to better edit and preview their pages using a specialist web browser (tried that) but if I’m honest with myself, blogging will never be my ‘business’ and every hour spent tweaking along at a snail’s pace is an hour I’m not concentrating on family.
There have been some concerns in Bloggityville in the past about Blogger controlling your content - if Blogger goes belly-up for whatever reason, then your blog (and all your hard work) is toast. Can someone give me some facts about that? It was one of the reasons I switched but even before I did, I had never had a problem with Blogger freezing me out of my blog unless it was for routine maintenance (and so was common to all Blogger blogs, and only for a couple of hours at a time).
The big question - how important is a ’dot com’ to me? It’s nice to have a nice short URL, but if I am otherwise satisfied with the features and ease-of-use of Blogger, is it worth paying $85 (probably more now the Aussie dollar has dropped against the US buck) for what essentially amounts to blog branding? If I’m not actually selling anything here (and so don’t have to make it super-dooper easy for customers to get to me via the shortest possible URL), and most of my readers do so through Google Reader or Bloglines (ie, not typing in the address each time), then how much does a longer URL matter? Is it possible to have a successful blog at Blogger? Are all the big name folk with Wordpress or Typepad and is that what differentiates them as ‘big name’ (because they can customise to the minute detail and create something totally unique)? I’ve seen some awesome Blogger blogs that have been wonderfully set up. To be honest, this is the biggest sticking poing for me - is it worth paying this money simply for a dot com?
Another biggie: How many readers will I lose switching back? I was disheartened to see a 30+ subscriber drop in the last day or two and I’m hoping its a glitch like that one that saw me excited to see the flip side of 100 not too long ago. How many more will leave if I go back to the harder to remember ….blogspot.com?
AND… is it even POSSIBLE to import old posts TO Blogger? I know you can (obviously) import TO Wordpress, but is it possible to reverse it? If I found out it couldn’t be done, then game over, I’m sticking with Wordpress.
As I said, I’ve seen some really beautiful Blogger designs and there’s always the option of hiring a designer down the track a bit if I can’t come up with something cool on my own. In the meantime, as I work my way through the editing process for Binder Basics, I can’t help feeling a bit annoyed that it isn’t that easy for both blogs. Then I look at Lizzie’s Home and LOVE the idea of pages, which you can’t get in Blogger. Clearly, I need someone to rationally discuss the pros and cons with me.
Fire away folks! Thoughts are much appreciated. If a blogger switched URLs on you, how much hassle (re-subscribing to new URL etc) would you go through to keep reading? If its a blog you enjoy, would it bother you much if the URL got longer or wasn’t quite so ‘brand-y’?
* This post originally uploaded to lizzieshome.com. I've since made the plunge back to Blogger and haven't regretted it at all! Well, except when it came to manually transferring alllll my posts from my 'Wordpress year' over, LOL.
Monday, December 8, 2008
The One Where Every Coffee Becomes "Irish"
Well would you look at that. NaBloPoMo ends and the well of creativity dries up. Not that all my NaBlo posts were particularly enlightening (”Smiling’s my favourite!” tee hee, it still cracks me up) but it did at least force me to keep the blog afloat.
Isn’t December the most insane month EVER? We are bucking our usual trend this year and haven’t yet begun our proper Christmas shopping. Normally we’d be about 90% done by now. Normally I’d be obsessing over lists and budgets and what I’m going to bake for such-and-such’s holiday get-together. Weirdly enough, that hasn’t happened so much this year. Probably because we’re doing a couple of bigger family presents this year instead of racing around like mad chickens buying this or that cool toy on sale. We’re not terribly big spenders anyway, but just not having to be ‘on the hunt’ so much over November and December has been refreshing.
Oh, but the end-of-school-year events are killing me. In Australia, we finish up our school year right before Christmas and have a 6 week break over what is meant to be the bulk of our summer (although the way the season is shaping up this year, we’ll still be sweltering into March…sigh). We return for the new school year generally in the last week of January, give or take a little for individual schools and states. Today marked the beginning of the Last Week. Traditionally, the Last Week is hyperactive to the core. I honestly don’t know how working parents manage - I stay at home and I’ve been struggling to get to all the school events and assemblies and morning teas these last couple of weeks.
I both love and hate this last week of school. I love it because Christmas looms and that means relaxation, good food, good company, no dawn o’clock wake up calls to get going on the school prep, lots of lazy days. I hate it because I’ve grown far too used to not having the kids underfoot during the day when school’s in and 6 weeks of living in each other’s pockets can take it’s toll. Usually Talented Hubby is able to schedule part of his annual leave during the summer holidays which again, has its good and bad points - he’s here (yay!) but he’s also HERE if you get my drift, LOL. Weekends are already like this (whether Daddy is working or not) but the holidays seem to revolve around a continual rhythm of food preparation to satisfy the other members of Chez Liz. I spend most of the time fantasizing about personal chefs and TH with a palm frond and grapes, LOL.
And I’m always kind of sad to see another year finish for the kids. They are shooting up like weeds (TH and I both think Master J will eclipse my height of 5′3″ in another 18 months or so…at age ELEVEN AND A HALF) and some of their friends will move on to new classrooms. Next year new friendships will form and old ones will move to ‘mere acquaintances’. The teachers do make an effort to retain one or two good friends for the kids as they move up to the next year level (in our school each year has at least 3 classes of the same grade) but it’s not the same. Next year will also see a new dynamic of Classroom Mums. There are always the core faithful, LOL - the Mum who’s always doing the readers, the one who always organizes the teacher gifts, the ones that kiss and drop faster than lightning, the one who’s not a Mum but a Dad and so stands out like a sore thumb - but there are new faces too. You get used to a particular group of parents the same way the kids probably get used to their peers - and then it all changes. Life is fleeting.
We’ve had a big year and an especially stressful six weeks. We’re looking forward to the break!
Isn’t December the most insane month EVER? We are bucking our usual trend this year and haven’t yet begun our proper Christmas shopping. Normally we’d be about 90% done by now. Normally I’d be obsessing over lists and budgets and what I’m going to bake for such-and-such’s holiday get-together. Weirdly enough, that hasn’t happened so much this year. Probably because we’re doing a couple of bigger family presents this year instead of racing around like mad chickens buying this or that cool toy on sale. We’re not terribly big spenders anyway, but just not having to be ‘on the hunt’ so much over November and December has been refreshing.
Oh, but the end-of-school-year events are killing me. In Australia, we finish up our school year right before Christmas and have a 6 week break over what is meant to be the bulk of our summer (although the way the season is shaping up this year, we’ll still be sweltering into March…sigh). We return for the new school year generally in the last week of January, give or take a little for individual schools and states. Today marked the beginning of the Last Week. Traditionally, the Last Week is hyperactive to the core. I honestly don’t know how working parents manage - I stay at home and I’ve been struggling to get to all the school events and assemblies and morning teas these last couple of weeks.
I both love and hate this last week of school. I love it because Christmas looms and that means relaxation, good food, good company, no dawn o’clock wake up calls to get going on the school prep, lots of lazy days. I hate it because I’ve grown far too used to not having the kids underfoot during the day when school’s in and 6 weeks of living in each other’s pockets can take it’s toll. Usually Talented Hubby is able to schedule part of his annual leave during the summer holidays which again, has its good and bad points - he’s here (yay!) but he’s also HERE if you get my drift, LOL. Weekends are already like this (whether Daddy is working or not) but the holidays seem to revolve around a continual rhythm of food preparation to satisfy the other members of Chez Liz. I spend most of the time fantasizing about personal chefs and TH with a palm frond and grapes, LOL.
And I’m always kind of sad to see another year finish for the kids. They are shooting up like weeds (TH and I both think Master J will eclipse my height of 5′3″ in another 18 months or so…at age ELEVEN AND A HALF) and some of their friends will move on to new classrooms. Next year new friendships will form and old ones will move to ‘mere acquaintances’. The teachers do make an effort to retain one or two good friends for the kids as they move up to the next year level (in our school each year has at least 3 classes of the same grade) but it’s not the same. Next year will also see a new dynamic of Classroom Mums. There are always the core faithful, LOL - the Mum who’s always doing the readers, the one who always organizes the teacher gifts, the ones that kiss and drop faster than lightning, the one who’s not a Mum but a Dad and so stands out like a sore thumb - but there are new faces too. You get used to a particular group of parents the same way the kids probably get used to their peers - and then it all changes. Life is fleeting.
We’ve had a big year and an especially stressful six weeks. We’re looking forward to the break!
Friday, December 5, 2008
I'm Not The Only One, Right?
I’m sitting here with a hot cup of tea and two one no more cinnamon donuts. I shouldn’t have eaten the donuts. Especially considering today.
My friends…today I went clothes shopping.
I think I have a defective female gene somewhere. I’m not into clothes (much), shoes, purses, jewellery or makeup. Which, apart from the fact my hoo-ha has thrice been a tunnel-o-baby, pretty much makes me a man, right? I am uber-casual. All the time. I’m more happy kickin’ back with a cup of tea and a good book, or perhaps going out to a movie and some takeout, than I am dressed to the nines, sitting in a fancy-schmancey restaurant obsessing over the expense of the evening. I want to toss my shoes in a corner (smells and all), and just be. The only ‘heels’ I own are massive and chunky and attached to boots I never wear. I have never owned a pair of stilettos, never felt in control of all my limbs in them. Never learned to walk in them properly and now I’m doomed to a life of flat-footedness. I wear a ‘Mum uniform’ and you know what? I don’t even care most of the time. I am not my accessories! Except when the horror-of-horrors rolls around:
The Spousal Unit’s Work Christmas Party.
Let’s just say my husband works in a very community-minded field of expertise. And lets just say that ‘wives are invited’ social situations come up rarely during the year - once for a team’s Christmas mostly informal get-together, once for a larger organizational family day (where I can mercifully busy myself with the affairs of the Piglets rather than butcher my way through multitudes of small talk) and perhaps one barbecue at another time during the year. During these occasions (and for a hefty period of time leading up to them), my relaxed happy-go-lucky-no-airs-here personality kind of goes KAPOOF and I turn into the Crazy Insecure Wife Lady.
I seriously LOVE what Talented Hubby does for a living. LOVE. IT. It makes me feel warm and cozy and proud like 364 days of the year (I take one day off to let the air out of his already-too-inflated head…routine maintenence, you see). And the people he works with are (according to my limited face-to-face time and many, many cool stories via TH himself) seriously cool people. The work they do is HARD. These last few weeks I have never seen TH as stressed as he is now. It’s a bit of a worry actually. But I know TH appreciates the challenge and I hope he knows I appreciate him for doing it.
However.
My heart always clenches up when I’m in social situations with his workmates. Which is weird, because I’m totally awesome and I know if the contact was more regular, the nervousness would totally go. There’s just not all that many opportunities to foster that extra involvement. So then you throw in a rare social interaction and all its associated rabid butterflies, a few too many pounds, a serious case of foot-in-mouth disease AND the fact that everyone else knows what all the inside jokes are, and I’m pretty much lost. I literally have to excuse myself to go to the ladies room and physically pull my cheeks down because the smile has been plastered on so long my facial muscles have completely frozen in place. It’s not that I don’t like the people. It’s more that I really do like them but the nature of TH’s work situation is that teams rotate members fairly frequently and by the time the next social event comes around, you might only know or remember one face. Makes it pretty hard to throw down common friendship roots.
Anyhoo, so I’d decided I needed to be the best example of wifely devotion and representation I could be, and apparently that needed to occur wearing new clothes.
Another thing I can put down to genetics - I have a butt. And thighs. Enough for three or four people I reckon. Except for there’s just one of me, and I’m not sharin’. Clothes shopping is right up there on a list of things I avoid until the Last Possible Second - along with shopping specifically for jeans (and yes, that deserves special mention because, um, its JEANS people!), doing my dishes, sorting laundry and leaving for the school run in the morning. It’s brutal, painful, disheartening, expensive and, ultimately, disappointing. Mostly because I love pretty things like the next girl but I won’t torment myself like I see so many other girls doing by pouring myself into unflattering and too-small garments just for fashion trends. Just won’t do it. I guess this is what bore my Jeans Philosophy. I wear jeans year-round, even in summer, because with the eleventy-billion different types out there, I figure there has to be ONE PAIR with my name on it. The nirvana of denim. The Holy Bootcut. Buying jeans for me is like painting the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Did you know they paint that thing continuously? Takes ‘em something like seven years to get from one end of the other and by that time, its due for another spruce-up so they begin again. Same deal with jeans. I finally find a decent pair - you know, the one that doesn’t expose either muffin top or coin-slottage, a rare find indeed! - and then immediately begin the search for the next. I live in my jeans.
So there I was today, trying on skirt after skirt, dress after dress, trying to find something that is the perfect cross between Dutiful Wife and We’re Having Hot Married S*x, Neener Neener Neener! - and do you think I could find anything? Skirts don’t hide my butt, they massively enlarge my hips. No kidding. And I’m SHORT. When did women’s legs get so darn long! I try on a pair of regular length, regular bootcut, non-stretch jeans and the end of the pant leg has formed a wierd malformed flipper over one foot. Well, today the moon wasn’t aligned with the sun or Target or something because no luck on the jeans front either. Finally bought several plain-ish tees and then, under the insistence from a pal who I’d conned into coming with me, tried on some shoes (ran out of time to buy any…sigh) and bought a $25 piece of costume jewellery that might go with one of the tees I bought. Like I said - depressing.
Well, I did try.
My friends…today I went clothes shopping.
I think I have a defective female gene somewhere. I’m not into clothes (much), shoes, purses, jewellery or makeup. Which, apart from the fact my hoo-ha has thrice been a tunnel-o-baby, pretty much makes me a man, right? I am uber-casual. All the time. I’m more happy kickin’ back with a cup of tea and a good book, or perhaps going out to a movie and some takeout, than I am dressed to the nines, sitting in a fancy-schmancey restaurant obsessing over the expense of the evening. I want to toss my shoes in a corner (smells and all), and just be. The only ‘heels’ I own are massive and chunky and attached to boots I never wear. I have never owned a pair of stilettos, never felt in control of all my limbs in them. Never learned to walk in them properly and now I’m doomed to a life of flat-footedness. I wear a ‘Mum uniform’ and you know what? I don’t even care most of the time. I am not my accessories! Except when the horror-of-horrors rolls around:
The Spousal Unit’s Work Christmas Party.
Let’s just say my husband works in a very community-minded field of expertise. And lets just say that ‘wives are invited’ social situations come up rarely during the year - once for a team’s Christmas mostly informal get-together, once for a larger organizational family day (where I can mercifully busy myself with the affairs of the Piglets rather than butcher my way through multitudes of small talk) and perhaps one barbecue at another time during the year. During these occasions (and for a hefty period of time leading up to them), my relaxed happy-go-lucky-no-airs-here personality kind of goes KAPOOF and I turn into the Crazy Insecure Wife Lady.
I seriously LOVE what Talented Hubby does for a living. LOVE. IT. It makes me feel warm and cozy and proud like 364 days of the year (I take one day off to let the air out of his already-too-inflated head…routine maintenence, you see). And the people he works with are (according to my limited face-to-face time and many, many cool stories via TH himself) seriously cool people. The work they do is HARD. These last few weeks I have never seen TH as stressed as he is now. It’s a bit of a worry actually. But I know TH appreciates the challenge and I hope he knows I appreciate him for doing it.
However.
My heart always clenches up when I’m in social situations with his workmates. Which is weird, because I’m totally awesome and I know if the contact was more regular, the nervousness would totally go. There’s just not all that many opportunities to foster that extra involvement. So then you throw in a rare social interaction and all its associated rabid butterflies, a few too many pounds, a serious case of foot-in-mouth disease AND the fact that everyone else knows what all the inside jokes are, and I’m pretty much lost. I literally have to excuse myself to go to the ladies room and physically pull my cheeks down because the smile has been plastered on so long my facial muscles have completely frozen in place. It’s not that I don’t like the people. It’s more that I really do like them but the nature of TH’s work situation is that teams rotate members fairly frequently and by the time the next social event comes around, you might only know or remember one face. Makes it pretty hard to throw down common friendship roots.
Anyhoo, so I’d decided I needed to be the best example of wifely devotion and representation I could be, and apparently that needed to occur wearing new clothes.
Another thing I can put down to genetics - I have a butt. And thighs. Enough for three or four people I reckon. Except for there’s just one of me, and I’m not sharin’. Clothes shopping is right up there on a list of things I avoid until the Last Possible Second - along with shopping specifically for jeans (and yes, that deserves special mention because, um, its JEANS people!), doing my dishes, sorting laundry and leaving for the school run in the morning. It’s brutal, painful, disheartening, expensive and, ultimately, disappointing. Mostly because I love pretty things like the next girl but I won’t torment myself like I see so many other girls doing by pouring myself into unflattering and too-small garments just for fashion trends. Just won’t do it. I guess this is what bore my Jeans Philosophy. I wear jeans year-round, even in summer, because with the eleventy-billion different types out there, I figure there has to be ONE PAIR with my name on it. The nirvana of denim. The Holy Bootcut. Buying jeans for me is like painting the Sydney Harbour Bridge. Did you know they paint that thing continuously? Takes ‘em something like seven years to get from one end of the other and by that time, its due for another spruce-up so they begin again. Same deal with jeans. I finally find a decent pair - you know, the one that doesn’t expose either muffin top or coin-slottage, a rare find indeed! - and then immediately begin the search for the next. I live in my jeans.
So there I was today, trying on skirt after skirt, dress after dress, trying to find something that is the perfect cross between Dutiful Wife and We’re Having Hot Married S*x, Neener Neener Neener! - and do you think I could find anything? Skirts don’t hide my butt, they massively enlarge my hips. No kidding. And I’m SHORT. When did women’s legs get so darn long! I try on a pair of regular length, regular bootcut, non-stretch jeans and the end of the pant leg has formed a wierd malformed flipper over one foot. Well, today the moon wasn’t aligned with the sun or Target or something because no luck on the jeans front either. Finally bought several plain-ish tees and then, under the insistence from a pal who I’d conned into coming with me, tried on some shoes (ran out of time to buy any…sigh) and bought a $25 piece of costume jewellery that might go with one of the tees I bought. Like I said - depressing.
Well, I did try.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Super Dooper Top Secret Stuff
Tomorrow is Talented Hubby’s birthday. Having reached the Big Three-Oh last year, this year sees him hitting the downward slide to forty, LOL - 31.
Ten years ago, I gave him a 4 week old son as a 21st birthday present. Try as I might, I just couldn’t get that immaculate conception thing going this time around to recreate the magic that was spawning his child at the tender age of just-past-nineteen. He’ll live. And will probably give me the candy and chocolates for not giving him a repeat heart attack.
Tonight I have working on part of his present. I won’t say what it is, so don’t ask. And not because I’m worried he’ll work it out by reading my blog because hello? He’s vastly unimpressed with the whole blogging wife scenario to be honest. Actually, even when he knows what it is, I don’t think I can mention it here on the blog. Get your mind out of the gutter! It’s not that! No, this thing has to do with his profession (which we like to keep under wraps in Bloggityville for security reasons) and involves an inside joke. So really, it wouldn’t have made a lick of sense to any of you anyway. You’re welcome.
Tomorrow is a seriously massive day actually. Of course TH’s birthday shines front and centre but then there’s an excursion for First Heart Attack (aka, Master J) during the day and Boof and Moo’s school’s Christmas concert in the evening. J is going to a Christmas lunch/party put on by the Variety Club, a children’s charity. This particular party is held every year for special needs kids and is just wonderful (Aussies: Donate to the Variety Club. My son thanks you).
This week sees us launch into the busiest two weeks of the entire school year by far. We’re in the last of our school year before a 6 week break (school resumes in the last week of January for the new school year). EVERY SINGLE DAY has four or five tasks or events going on specific to this time of the year - it is utter chaos Next week, I have to bring a plate of morning tea to two separate class events Moo is involved with - on consecutive days. Guess what I’ll be doing on the weekend? And I just worked out I have just TWENTY shopping days left (we’re travelling). EEEK!
On a pleasant note - I have two new shows to watch this summer. We get all sorts of US television programs in weird convoluted timeframes - and summer, when the ratings season has ended and the networks are looking to fill spots or to try out shows they’re not sure will take off down here, usually sees an influx. Last night I watched Army Wives and tonight it was Eli Stone. Can see myself getting right into the last one although the opening story about the MMR vaccine causing a little boy’s autism kiiiind of grated just a little. Just a little bug bear of mine. Apart from that, a good show. Although, I do have George Michael’s “Faith” running through my head on a loop…grrr…
And on that note, I’m off to throw together a batch of brownies. I am SO looking foward to the slower days of summer!
Ten years ago, I gave him a 4 week old son as a 21st birthday present. Try as I might, I just couldn’t get that immaculate conception thing going this time around to recreate the magic that was spawning his child at the tender age of just-past-nineteen. He’ll live. And will probably give me the candy and chocolates for not giving him a repeat heart attack.
Tonight I have working on part of his present. I won’t say what it is, so don’t ask. And not because I’m worried he’ll work it out by reading my blog because hello? He’s vastly unimpressed with the whole blogging wife scenario to be honest. Actually, even when he knows what it is, I don’t think I can mention it here on the blog. Get your mind out of the gutter! It’s not that! No, this thing has to do with his profession (which we like to keep under wraps in Bloggityville for security reasons) and involves an inside joke. So really, it wouldn’t have made a lick of sense to any of you anyway. You’re welcome.
Tomorrow is a seriously massive day actually. Of course TH’s birthday shines front and centre but then there’s an excursion for First Heart Attack (aka, Master J) during the day and Boof and Moo’s school’s Christmas concert in the evening. J is going to a Christmas lunch/party put on by the Variety Club, a children’s charity. This particular party is held every year for special needs kids and is just wonderful (Aussies: Donate to the Variety Club. My son thanks you).
This week sees us launch into the busiest two weeks of the entire school year by far. We’re in the last of our school year before a 6 week break (school resumes in the last week of January for the new school year). EVERY SINGLE DAY has four or five tasks or events going on specific to this time of the year - it is utter chaos Next week, I have to bring a plate of morning tea to two separate class events Moo is involved with - on consecutive days. Guess what I’ll be doing on the weekend? And I just worked out I have just TWENTY shopping days left (we’re travelling). EEEK!
On a pleasant note - I have two new shows to watch this summer. We get all sorts of US television programs in weird convoluted timeframes - and summer, when the ratings season has ended and the networks are looking to fill spots or to try out shows they’re not sure will take off down here, usually sees an influx. Last night I watched Army Wives and tonight it was Eli Stone. Can see myself getting right into the last one although the opening story about the MMR vaccine causing a little boy’s autism kiiiind of grated just a little. Just a little bug bear of mine. Apart from that, a good show. Although, I do have George Michael’s “Faith” running through my head on a loop…grrr…
And on that note, I’m off to throw together a batch of brownies. I am SO looking foward to the slower days of summer!
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