Christmas cheer.

The tree is up! The picture is what we have at the top. For twenty years or so this little bird has nested at the top of our tree. She's getting very delicate and I don't know what I'll do when she finally falls apart, but I love that she sits up the top, peacefully surveying the surroundings every year. Not being a particularly religious family, this seems to fit us fine. I took the obligatory photo of the tree, uploaded it and put all the cameras and cords away, but when I viewed it it looked very ordinary. There's no way I'll inflict it on the general public. So you all get the bird. (I mean that in the nicest possible way, of course...)

We had a lovely time decorating the lounge room. The kids do most of the work now, which is nice, as I can see Christmas traditions developing that they'll pass on to their families when they (eventually) have them. Jordan brought in the tree from the garage and he and Connor did much of the initial tree decorating. (As a side note... apparently I lovingly tell them every year! to put the larger ornaments at the bottom, and gradually decrease the size of them as they go up the tree. Well, there's no need to snap at me. It's important to have a balanced looking tree. At least I know they're taking heed of my words of wisdom.)

When the tree is going up I always have Christmas carols playing. For years it's been a hideously sweet children's choir with unnatural annunciation singing stuff, but this year we had a treat. Scott gave me my Christmas present early. Every year he makes a Christmas mix, and it's fantastic. I tell you, you haven't lived until you decorate a Christmas tree with Angela Lansbury belting out a song about needing a little Christmas. There's a few versions of Jingle Bells... one with Barbra Streisand on speed, while Lena Horne makes it sound like the sexiest song you've ever heard. (How did she do that?? ) There's also a cha-cha version...

"Jingle bells, jing-jing-jing jingle bells,

Jingle all the way CHA-CHA-CHA!!"

It's fabulous. The kids couldn't believe their ears. Jack kept grabbing the album covers (yes, Scott gave me two!) and shaking his head in disbelief. (None of them took the music off, though.) They now know that Nat King Cole and Frank Sinatra are two of my Mum's favourite singers, and who could resist a rendition of "Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer Mambo"? It was so much fun.

However, there's a cooking failure to report. Tonight is our faculty breakup at Scott's house, and I said I'd bring an apricot nectar cheesecake. Surely one of the most delectable things on the planet when it's made right. I was racing around after work doing a billion things at once and forgot to shake the tin of apricot nectar before I poured it into the cheesecake mix. I didn't realise until I was pouring what was left in the tin into a container to make the topping this morning. Suddenly rich, orange nectar was glolloping out of the tin, unlike the thin watery nectar I'd used. I tried the cheesecake this morning, and all I could taste was cheese with just the slightest hint of apricot. I feel like such a twit. I'll finish it off this morning but this'll be one for the kids. The Cheesecake shop will be making a sale later on today. There's no way I'm taking a near tasteless cheesecake to a gathering where there's so many great cooks. I'm annoyed with myself though, because this is one thing I really make well. When I've got my mind on the job, I guess.

Purple beans and Breadcrumb patties.

Look at my harvest! Enough beans to feed five people, and there are plenty left on the plants. Brennan and I ate a couple while we were picking them. Bright green inside. I made some breadcrumb patties for dinner with mashed potato and steamed carrots and beans. Look at how the beans turned out...

Green! Isn't nature an amazing thing? Who would've thought that simple beans would evolve over thousands of years into something that can change colour with the simple application of microwaves. How did the beans know that microwaves were going to be invented? Imagine if humans slipped up and missed how to use microwave technology. There all the purple beans would be... hanging from the vines, really cross that no one would be able to appreciate the amazing colour change they were capable of. "All that trouble manipulating our dna for nothing", they'd fume. How lucky that some science guy tinkering with stuff in a laboratory discovered the key that now lets them mystify and delight my family instead. Ahh, the fun you can get from simple veggies!

The bread crumb patties are something I make very rarely, but the kids love them. Mum used to make them when she was flour/egg and breadcrumbing schnitzels in the olden days. Any of the coating left over she'd mix together and fry along with the actual dinner. Absolutely gorgeous. Last night I came home at about 5 so I thought I'd use the beans and have a meat and 3 veg meal. Just like Mum used to make! I was a bit tired so I wanted to do something easy.

Breadcrumb Patties.

All I use are packaged breadcrumbs, eggs, parsley (my parsley plant went to seed, so I threw it out. I used the leaves from the top of a celery instead), salt, pepper and a bit of milk. Mix until it gets to a nice consistency, drop into a frypan in pattie sized portions, and there you go! Great with tomato sauce. (Don't make them too thick, or they might not cook in the middle. Then they're not so nice, as you can imagine.)

We're into the last stages of interviews now. The difficult ones. These are mainly the kids who wouldn't work for an ipod with $1000 strapped to it. Of course by this stage of the game they can't rely on natural ability to get good marks like they may (or sadly, may not) have been able to do in the past, so these interviews are a wake up call for some. Most end up getting a bit of a shock and walk out a bit shaken. Others walk into the room with their head so firmly buried in the sand that you can practically see the bucket full of the stuff they have on their shoulders.

There are only three kids who we simply can't promote to year 11. They are totally different, except for the fact that they've failed just about every subject. One is lazy and hasn't done a stroke of work since year 7, one just doesn't have the wattage but she's a lovely girl who tries reasonably hard, and one covers those two bases but is also covering a world of other problems. I'm dreading her interview. She is a head burier. In fact I think she's buried everything but the tip of her nose. She hung up on me yesterday when I told her it was pointless to have an interview with just her, and I rescheduled it to tomorrow so her Dad could be there "to talk about her future". She'll have to either repeat year 10 or maybe go to TAFE. Trouble is, I don't think she's mature enough to handle TAFE. But she's not mature enough or bright enough to handle the work at year 11 either. It's an awful situation. I really feel for her parents. When I called her Dad at work to organise the new interview time, the weariness that came into his voice when I said who I was and why I was calling was sad.

The other girl is a totally different story. She and her parents opened up the interview by saying that they all feel that she should repeat the year. She's new to the school anyway and she's one of the youngest in her year level, so they don't see a social problem with it. She's happy, so are they and I can't tell you how relieved I was! Problem solved before I even had to bring it up. I love clear sighted parents.

Heigh ho! With a bit of luck these interviews should be over by the end of the week. Then I just have to write student managers reports on the front of 130 kids reports (bleuch!) and then the rest of the year will be a smooth ride down to Christmas. I'll be preparing for next year's classes, moving back into staffroom 1 (I've hopefully got a desk right near some of my friends) and looking forward to the holidays. Only 4 weeks to go till Christmas!!!

Lovely day.

What a fantastic day!! I spent all of it with a definite bubble of happiness inside me. Everything went well, even when I had to bellow at the boys for being lazy little so-and-sos for not doing any housework. I kept the bubble because they went and did all the work while I made 4 meals of leek and potato soup, 2 meals of tuna pasta sauce and 80 cupcakes/muffins with green and red icing.

I guess it began on Friday, when I got some quilting books in the mail from England. Yes, I'm putting in the research. It was all going well until it dawned on me that when you're quilting, not only do you have to sew all of the patches together, then sew the wadding and the backing onto it as well... you THEN have to sew all over it in a million different directions to keep them all together. That just doesn't seem fair. I don't have a sewing machine, so that's a world full of hand sewing to make a quilt to keep me warm at night. (Not having a man and all.... what's a girl to do? Apart from have an electric blanket.... oh how I love my blanket....)

I was almost about to give the whole idea away... resign myself to cranking up the electric blanket for 10 months of the year... (I'm a bit of a reptile)... when my friend Sandy called. I mentioned in the course of the conversation about the inordinate amount of sewing that quilting demands, and she said that she had an old sewing machine she'd lend me. Can you believe it? I'm so rapt. So the quilting/doona cover thing is all set to go. I was flicking through the quilting books today, and I'm looking forward to giving it a burl. Honestly, how hard can it be? One of my books is 'Quilting for Dummies', so if they can do it, then so can I!!

Then, after my whinge at my technological ineptitude about links yesterday, Lightening posted a comment explaining how to do them. How fantastic is that? I haven't had a chance today to get near the computer to try and follow her directions, but now I know they're there when I need them. I don't need to rush out and order 'HTML For Dummies.' I'm a happy technophobe.

Then there was the meme...

I tagged Suze from Peasoup. She was apparently pleased by this (thank goodness. You never know if people are going to like you or loathe you when you tag.) Then later in her post, she mentioned buying wool on line from the Bendigo Knitting mills. She included a link. (Obviously she's more savvy than I am.) I was beside myself with glee. I've been wanting to buy some more wool for ages, but the wool shop near me is a bit limited in range, and Marta's, while gorgeous, is a bit exxy. All of the online shops I've seen have been in the UK or the US, which made me reluctant to buy online. It seemed a bit silly to fly wool into the country when we've got a gazillion sheep here. Suddenly, there was the answer. I chortled happily and tapped the link. Fifteen minutes later, I'd ordered a pattern and some soft green wool. I can't tell you how pleased I was. I've saved the site in my favourites, so now I'm set! How lucky is that?

Then I wandered out and glanced at the veggie garden, and guess what I saw? Purple beans. No, I'm not kidding. I was pretty darned pleased, because they said on the packet that these things are purple, and then when you cook them they go green. "Get out!" I said as I looked at them in the shop. I had to plant them and see.

See? How bizarre does that look? I think it's fantastic. We haven't cooked any yet, but when we do I'll have my head jammed half way in the saucepan to follow the colour change. I'll let you know how it goes.

Sandy reminded me to update about the afghan. I should apologise to all those who have been on the point of emailing me demanding to know how it's progressing. I realise that for many of you, knowledge of the progress of my acrylic basket weave afghan is the only thing getting you out of bed each morning. Well... on Friday night I officially passed the half way mark. (I can hear a round of applause... ). I'm very pleased about it, because when I started with it a while ago, I knew I wouldn't get it finished before summer came. So in my head, I thought that if I . .. (I've just realised what a stupid thing that was to type. Where else apart from my head would I be thinking? I don't think my spleen has had any good ideas lately. What an idiot.)

Anyway, I had an idea that if I made it to the half way point this year, that'd be good. Well, now I'm at least 10 rows past that. (At 253 stitches per row, that's not bad going.) I really love the feeling that now I'm doing next year's knitting!!! I'm time travelling! Already this thing is as tall as a toddler. I'm starting to look forward to when it's finished, because it's big enough now to spread over my knees when I'm knitting, and I have to say that it's rather cosy. I have visions of curling up on the couch in the dead of night watching all new episodes of 'Boston Legal' all snuggled up in my afghan. What care I if the temperature is a bit nippy??? Under the afghan it'll be tropical.

I've got more to say but it's getting late. Before I go I'll just quickly mention a comment Scott made on the post I wrote yesterday on the 7 weird things meme. It was very funny, but he will not suck me in to his twisted plot to make the world read shockingly bad authors.

I realise I said that once I start a book I have to finish it. It's absolutely true.

However... nothing... I repeat.... NOTHING will make me read another Isabel Allende book again. (Unless it's on the booklist for work and I have to teach it.) Scott is a cruel, evil sort of person, who will stop at nothing to torment me. He's devoted to the woman and knows my views. Honestly I can't see why anyone would want to plough through one of her books unless it was superglued to your hands and someone had a gun to your head forcing you to read it. Even then, I think that death by gunshot would be a preferable fate.

So nice try, oh so-called friend of mine, but I'll resist. (It's a shame, because the opening sentence sounds interesting, but I know all too well the agony that will come.....)

I hate Primary schools.

You know, just between you and me, I'm slightly regretting the suggestion I made to Jack about baking biscuits (cookies) for his business venture at school. (I posted about it in one of my first posts. I don't know how to link to it. Quick summary.... he had to do a stall and sell things at lunchtime as part of Business Studies. He wanted to sell fish n chips. I could see that turning into a logistical nightmare plus not being cost effective, so like the good little frugality kick girl that I am I suggested we make biscuits. I included the recipe on the post. We made over 200. He sold the lot for a VERY tidy profit. He had Phuket spending money. All was good.)

Then Brennan came home from school last term (he tends to do that... I think because home is where I keep the food) and he had a 'Healthy Snack Project.' I hate projects with a passion. Why do primary schools continually inflict them upon us? He wanted to do some hideously complicated and expensive snack. I suggested the biscuits. At first he objected.

"They've got chocolate in them. The snacks are supposed to be healthy. I can't run a selling campaign like that."

I pulled out all my cunning and persuasive wiles as a Drama teacher, a woman and a frugality kicker. "We put wheatgerm in them. You can run a slogan like 'The kids will see the chocolate. YOU"LL see the natural wheatgerm goodness!' "

He was sold. So were all the biscuits when he took them to school. He passed with a glowing report from his teacher. All was good.

Until he came home (I know... again!!) and proudly informed me that the school was holding a stall at lunchtime to sell healthy snacks to raise money for wildlife rangers. The grade 6ers voted for the four best snacks. Guess who won? He was over the moon. As for me...

Now I'm all for success at school and feeling good about your work and all that. I have to be. I signed up for promoting all of that when I became a teacher. It's clause 2.45, right after the vow of poverty. But this recipe uses 6 eggs and nearly 2 kilos of flour. The mixture is hard to mix because there's so much of it, and baking nearly 100 biscuits takes a fair chunk of time, because you can't wander far from the oven in case they burn.

Brennan looked up at me with his big brown eyes blinking trustfully at me behind his glasses.

"The teacher said you don't have to do it if you don't want to...."

Shit. "Alright, I'll do it," I idiotically said. "But I won't do it again."

The stall is today. The biscuits are made. I gave him around 60 to sell at 50c each. I made them last night after dinner. For those of you not currently living in Melbourne, yesterday was so hot you could've fried an egg on your forehead. It was 37 degrees Celcius. (I don't know what the American equivalent is... I converted biscuits to cookies for you guys, so now you can do the maths. Ok, I'll give a rough estimate. In American degrees, it was probably a billion.)

I had the aircon on, but it's evaporative. It was gently puffing out of the ceiling vents keeping Jack in his room cool (Maths and Science exams are today. Crucial for him (maths nerd) so fingers crossed), but in the kitchen it was no match for the might of the oven. In and out went tray after tray of biscuits. Every time the oven door opened it belched blistering burps of 220 degree (celcius) air into the room. (Did you notice the discreet use of alliteration? ) I'd take two trays out, another two would be loaded up and in they'd go. While they were cooking I grab a spatula and pile the biscuits on cooling trays, then put balls of dough on the trays ready for the oven. Connor was M&M guy, putting them on the tops of each ball of dough. When the cooking biscuits were done, out they'd come! In went the next two trays! Spatula waving! Biscuit piling! Balls of dough plopping on trays! Helping Brennan with his other homework! M&Ms being stolen by Jack! Chasing Jack out of the kitchen and back to his room, waving the spatula and shrieking! Back to the oven! Again! and again....... !

I don't know about you, but I know that this isn't high on my list of fun ways to spend a hot night. Connor took some photos for the blog and when he took this one...

... he said "Action Mum!" I don't want to be moving this fast on a hot night. It's not relaxing. I was in the kitchen from 8pm till 10 pm. Do I look happy? That light near my face is NOT a twinkle in my eye.

Still, it's done. I have biscuits already bagged up and frozen for kids' lunches, and an ice cream container full of them for after school today, so that's good. Brennan also brought home a notice from school asking for cakes to be donated to the school to sell on election day as voters are queueing.

It's in the bin.

A peaceful Sunday.

Look at what I made yesterday!! Along with everything else, I thought I'd try my hand at playing with food colourings. I made aqua icing. (4 drops blue, 2 drops red.) It sounds like a better idea than it turned out. It's not terrible, and it looks effective, but it reminds me of the aqua colour in toothpaste/gel combinations. (It could be a subtle reminder of what you should do after eating these. There's so much icing sugar in the icing that it turned my teeth on edge. But the kids are excited.) I had some white chocolate buds so I whacked one in the middle of each cake. They needed an extra something for pizzazz. So instead of biscuits, the kids get these for lunches and after school tomorrow. They're happy. Everyone loves a cupcake.

Then I went and picked the last cauliflower for dinner. Not a moment too soon. It had tall stalky lumpy bits growing out of the top of it. If it was in a shop you wouldn't go anywhere near the obviously mutant love-child of a caulie and a snail. But unfortunately this vegetable wasn't from a shop. I've nurtured that cauliflower. I've fertilised, watered and gotten (is that a word? getten? gooten?) up early to water it for too many times to let a few hideous growths stop me from eating it now. I remember the time Brennan and I realised that it was actually sprouting something we could eat. We jumped up and down. We squealed with joy. (Well... I did. He's nearly 13. He's too gruff and manly.) I've invested a lot in that bloody caulie. Hopes, dreams.... dare I say.... love.....

Plus the fact that it's sometimes a big pain in the proverbial to have a veggie garden. How many times have I dragged myself out of bed at 6am to water the damned thing? I wouldn't do it for flowers, that's for sure. Do you know how uncomfortable it is to have the water-logged hem of your bathrobe flapping around your ankles at that hour of the morning? Ankles aren't the most insulated part of the anatomy, and it's bloody nippy at that hour of the day. And sunburn. You go out to throw a spare cup of water on the leeks and you see weeds. An hour later you realise that yes it is a bit sunny and you're getting a beautiful cancerous glow. Nothing like a melanoma on the face to set off that gorgeous smile.

So that cauliflower was going to be ingested no matter what it looked like. Actually, here is what it looked like..

Yum Yum! The stalky things swivelled around to watch me as I walked up to it, but I didn't let that bother me. It's organic, so that means that everything about it is good. I yanked it up out of the ground and ignored the shriek as it twisted and writhed in my hands. I sprinkled salt on it and laughed as bubbles came out of it. The stalks waved frantically... I knew I couldn't let the torment continue. I am a pacifist, after all. So I banged its head against the ground until the tortured movements subsided. Oh the mighty hunter!

(Ok.... I'm going a bit mental here. I walked over, pulled it out of the ground and brought it inside. But imagine if all that stuff DID happen??? It'd be freaky as!)

I made the thickest cheese sauce you've ever seen, to disguise its lack of comeliness from the kids.

It went down a treat.

One really nice thing happened to end the weekend. Normally my boys travel round as a pack. They're here with me all together, they go to their Dad's all together, so they rarely have time apart. The Virgos were at Tony's this weekend, (that's boy 2 and boy 4 for the Astrologically uninitiated), while the Capricorns were with me. (I have 4 boys. You work out who the Cappies are.) When the boys came home after 'boys' weekend', it was lovely to see how pleased they were to see each other. Jack and Connor went out to play a game of cricket in the backyard, while the other two sat in the lounge room and chatted about stuff. I wonder sometimes how often the boys will choose to see each other once they've grown up and moved out (OH happy day!!!!) When little things like this happen it makes me optimistic. They like each other, and that's a good start.

Yesterday and Today.

Did my washing yesterday! I've been making the boys use these for their lunches. The theory is that over time we'll save money on Glad wrap by reusing these. Plus we're saving the planet, which is an agreeable bonus.

Every time I hang these out on the line I have a chuckle about a conversation I had with my friend Ian. He was visiting, and I brought him outside to see the veggie garden. He saw the bags on the line, stopped dead and asked in a horrified tone, "My God Frogdancer, what are you doing?"

"They're for the kids' lunches," I said. "I just wash them out and reuse them."

"Thank God for that," he said. "I thought you were selling drugs!!!"

Something I'm SO not into, let me hasten to add.

Yesterday went pretty much according to plan. Brennan waited patiently until I'd finished making the breakfast pancakes (he ate 5) and then asked me if now was a good time for me to teach him to knit. He got the hang of it surprisingly quickly, and he's knitted about 12 rows of his North Melbourne footie scarf. We went through the stages of knitting so tightly that he couldn't get the needle through the loop, to knitting so loosely that the stitches slipped off the end of the needle if you looked at it sideways, dropping stitches and looping extra loops to create unintended extra stitches, but by the end of a couple of hours of work he was garter stitching away as happily as you'd like to see. He'd keep coming back to it and knitting more. Even at this early stage he's discovering knitting's uncanny ability to be addictive.

Until the phone rang at 1.30. It was James, one of Brennan's friends, wanting to know if he was still coming to the party (Luna Park and a sleepover) that started half an hour before. Oops. The knitting gone thrown aside, and he was packed and out the door (though we had to go back for his sleeping bag that he left on the kitchen bench). James' mother works at the same school I do, and she's lovely. She opened the door with the words, "So, English teachers can't read numbers on an invitation?" If she was a Maths teacher that would mean war, ("Them's fightin' words!!!") but she's also English. I had a quick look at the new reno they've done (upper storey, new kitchen and rumpus room.... really gorgeous) and then I was back to keep an eye on young Study Guy, previously known as Jack.

He's done a lot of work this weekend. He started off yesterday with 'Romeo and Juliet'. His teacher told me what she'd told the class to do to prepare, so we talked about the play and I helped him look for short snappy quotes and I showed him how to embed them in his sentences. I was really pleased by his depth of understanding of the play. His teacher has really taught them well (or maybe it's just pure natural ability.... she starts laughing hysterically... the kid loves numbers and only reads a book if its stapled into his hands). He wrote quite a good essay, with me standing over him and reminding him to expand on his points. He doesn't show enough detail, and that's been his downfall in English this year.

His Science cheat sheet was the afternoon's work, and I think he also did some work on History. His English and History exams are tomorrow, and Maths and Science are on Tuesday. Then he's a free man. Until Year 11 Orientation week in December. (I wonder how much housework I can get him to do when he's at home all day? Hmmmm....)

I finally mowed the lawn yesterday. The whipper snippering didn't get done, so some parts of the garden look as if they're growing a fringe around the outskirts, but at least the long wavy grass is a thing of the past. My Roma tomato plant that I put in 2 weeks ago is growing a couple of tiny tomatoes, so that was all very exciting. I went and bought some salad things for dinner, and the cucumber was really spongy. Edible, but nothing like the ones we were eating last year from the garden. I can't wait until we're eating our own again. (I went out and put some extra shower water run off on the cucumber plants, just to give them a bit of encouragement.)

This morning was very pleasant. It was raining, so I didn't have to get up at the crack of dawn to water. I sat up in bed knitting the afghan (mmmm, the afghan) and getting enthused about it again. I'm just a few rows off being half way through. 4 balls down, 4 to go. It's already looking large, so who knows how many tv watching Frogdancers it'll be able to shelter next year when it's finished? Twenty seven or so is my guess.

So far today I've made 4 cakes, hung out 2 loads of washing, picked up Brennan and had a coffee with James' Mum, knitted 13 rows of the afghan and started mixing up a huge batch of biscuit mix. The dogs are NOT smelling deodorised and homogenised, so I'll be hurling them into the laundry trough soon and ruining their day. I want to make some more leek and potato soup, because the leeks are looking thick and yummy, and I'll freeze them. We have one more caulie that needs eating, so tonight will be macaroni cheese and cauliflower cheese night. Come to think of it, I'd better go out and feed the budgies. I'm sure they'll appreciate it. It's been two days since my last visit. (Don't worry, I'm fairly sure they're both still alive. I saw them from the kitchen window this morning. They were on a perch, not lying down on the bottom of the cage with their pathetic little feet stuck imploringly in the air, so I think that's a good sign.)

Molly and Murphy are having a very different morning. I gave them both a bone yesterday, and I think the strain of guarding their bones from both the cats and each other has told. That's Murphy on his back. If I could include the oceanic rumbling of Molly's snoring, I would.

Bamboo and wheatgerm.

Well that was a bit of fun. You should've seen Brennan's face when he saw the expression on 'his' face when he was dancing. What fun technology is!

I popped into Spotlight yesterday to buy a cushion insert for a silk cushion cover I bought in Thailand. (Incidentally, when I got home and took the cover out of the wrapping, I found that a seam had popped. I'm outraged. Do you think I should get on a plane and fly back to Phuket, go to the market and track the seller down and get a refund? It cost me all of $3..... or is that taking rationalisation to go on a new holiday too far?)

Anyway, while I was there I went to the wool section. I got wildly excited when I found some bamboo and cotton yarn. I love the idea of wearing something that would make me delicious to a panda. The question I have is... where would I find a pattern for yarn like this? I'm assuming that I couldn't adapt a pattern for wool, given that wool is stretchier and... well... woolier than a cottonish thread. I like the idea of knitting a simple jumper for summer days that get a little cool. For when the drought breaks. It has to soon, because I've planted my veggies. So I want to get cracking, while not forgetting the afghan (mmmm, the afghan.) So does anyone in internetland have any ideas? Spotlight didn't seem to have patterns for this type of yarn, though admittedly I only scanned the shelves briefly. I had a couple of cakes in the oven, and I knew I had to get back. I sound so domestic, don't I?

Yesterday turned into a bit of a baking day. Usually I bake about 4 cakes on the weekends, and the kids have one a day when they come home from school. It's easy to divide a cake into quarters. I also bake huge amounts of biscuits every fortnight or so, and freeze them for the kids lunches. But since coming home from Thailand (land of inadequately sewn cushion covers and elephants.... I still love the elephants) I've been knackered, to use an elegant phrase. The kids have been eating toast, popcorn and uncooked spaghetti (pasta) after school, and using shop bought (gasp!) biscuits in their lunchboxes. Obviously this shocking state of affairs cannot continue.

4 cakes, and 120 biscuits with wheatgerm and chocolate chips made. Wheatgerm for inner health because I am now a Good Mother again, and chocolate to get them to eat the darned things to get the wheatgerm in their colons. Especially Connor, the eat-no-vegetables-except-chips kid. I feel in control again. What a legend. Brennan has to take 60 of those biscuits (cookies to our American mates) to school for a project he's doing about healthy food, so I'll have to make more on the weekend, but now the snack situation is organised. I also made an impossible pie at the same time as making dinner, and now that's cut into portions and frozen for my lunches for the next week. It's amazing how much better I feel now that I've done this. I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed with everything, but now I'm back on an even keel.

Ma Ingalls has nothing on me!

Child free Saturday morning.

Still no Daphne...

but in good news on the pet front, we took Molly back to the canine eye doctor and her eyes are SO much better. No operation needed, the ulcer is nearly gone. Yay. So there's different pills to shove down her neck, and the saga continues, but it's looking good.

The afghan... ahh, the afghan. I did quite a bit yesterday. I was exhausted when I got home, so I had a packet of potato chips for dinner, (they were chicken ones, so that's good for me, right?), and went to bed with my knitting, Oprah and Dr Phil. Sounds like it's lucky no-one got their eye poked out with the knitting needles doesn't it? I know that anyone married will probably be aghast and would think that spending a child free Friday night like this is a wanton waste of precious time. But trust me... it was bliss. I've found that after having a trip overseas (first Bali last year and now Phukhet) it takes me about three weeks to recover my bounce. It's still worth it though.

This weekend is earmarked for the usual pursuits. Veggie gardening, ( a trip to the local market for seedlings is happening tomorrow. Can't wait!), biscuit and cake making for lunches and after school, veggie soup making for lunches for me, mowing the lawn so the cat doesn't have an unfair advantage when stalking the pigeons, (I should've said cats. But I'm a bit pessimistic about Daph...), knitting, reading AND vacuuming. Some of the dust bunnies are bigger than Molly.

On a slightly different tangent... why are some house keeping jobs appealing, and others are blah? It's different for everyone. For instance; I could hang washing on the line till the cows come home. But as for folding it, yuck. You've heard of dumpster diving? We do jocks diving, otherwise known as Lucky Dip In The Clean Clothes Basket. It's no way to live, but I do it to us nearly every week. It's got to the stage where the spot in the walkway where I park the basket looks strangely empty if I've been organised and done the folding. The crazy thing is that it's not a big job. I fold the clothes into piles, and then each kid puts his clothes away.

Does anyone like vacuuming? I hate it. And yet, when it's finished I love the way the house looks. All dust free and shiny. (I have wooden floors.) Without fail I say to myself, "That wasn't so bad. The house looks great. I'm never going to leave it so long between vacuums again." Then I empty the bag into the bin, put it away in the hall cupboard and avoid it like the plague until we either
a) have guests or
b) we start giving names to the dust bunnies. We're at this stage now.

Open the door to my pantry and you'd be amazed and so impressed with the organisation. Everything is lined up, labels facing outward. Same with the fridge. Every time I shop I rotate everything, so nothing goes off. I have a list on the outside of the freezer so I know what's in there at any given time, (ok, it's little out of date, but it's easy to see how many tubs of ice cream we've got. 4 litre tubs are hard to miss, even in a freezer my size). My friend Sandy said once, "I know why we get along so well. You're as meticulous as I am. You just hide it better!"

My bookshelves are organised. I can lay my hand on any book I own at a moments notice. I actually love ironing. It just takes so long to get it all done, but I find it a pleasurable job to do around the house. Mowing the lawn is also good. I can go into the happy place inside my head and mechanically mow away.

OH MY GOD!!!!! Daphne has just walked through the door!!!!! Seriously!!!! Right now.

I've plonked a bowl of food in front of her for a reward and shut her in the laundry so she can eat it without Maris's help. I can't believe it. She just strolled in the lounge room behind Maris, nonchalantly miaowing "Hello, where's breakfast?"

Now I know she's safe, I want to kill her. I've got to go and text the boys to let them know she's back. They're at their Dad's this weekend. (Hence the chicken chips and farnarkling with Phil and Oprah.) Hooray! My family is all safe and accounted for again.

Culinary Delights

Every family needs to start the morning with bright green pancakes! Yum Yum.

On the weekends the boys are with me we have a tradition that we have pancakes for breakfast. At first I was the only cook, but over the past year they've all learned how to mix up the ingredients and wield the spatula. This morning Jordan decided he'd get things started. We'd run out of maple syrup, so while I made some more he made the batter and quietly tipped in the food colouring.

What a twit. Luckily it doesn't affect the taste.

Yesterday didn't end up anything like I had planned. At 9am, while I was happily blogging away, the phone rang. It was the lady from U3A reminding me that I said I'd do the cleaning for their hall that morning. Shit. I grabbed something to eat (no pancakes for anyone yesterday!), showered, dressed and I was out the door. Didn't get home till 12. It's an easy job, and well paid. $200 for a little over 2 hours work. It's just.... you know. Cleaning... I always feel glad I've done it when I'm driving home, but I whinge and complain all the way there. Still, it paid for Molly's eye appointment with the high-powered opthamologist, so that's a good thing.

Molly seems happier today. Her eyes are still looking like they're massively uncomfortable, but at least she's opening them more. Fingers crossed.

Anyway, back to yesterday. When I get home Jordan reminds me that he's arranged to meet a few mates at Southland to see a movie. Daniel's mum drops them off, and I'm down to pick them up when he texts me. I wave him off, then decide I'm up for a Nanna nap. Just then Mum and Dad drop in. Dad's bringing back some woodcarvings that got damaged in transit from Phukhet that he's glued together. He's done a fantastic job.... say what you like, the man is meticulous.
When I see Mum, I realise that although I've come back from Thailand with Christmas presents galore, I forgot to buy her a birthday present. Idiot! (Sorry Mum, if you read this.... I mean I'm the idiot, not you.) We had a big pineapple sitting on the bench, so guess what she got. She loved it. She's either a big pineapple freak or a magnificent actress.

After they left I didn't need to sleep anymore, so the boys hassled me to go to Southland as well. Connor had some birthday money from his Dad and he wanted to buy a Wii game. What is it with small boys and video games??? This child is delighted to spend $85 on yet ANOTHER game.
("But Mum, it's reduced from $99. It's a bargain!"
Maybe I should be proud that my canny shopping habits are rubbing off, instead of being horrified by the wanton waste of money. Still, it's Tony's money, not mine, so it's none of my business. The kids know by now never to ask me to finance their dirty little addiction.)

Naturally, being in a shopping centre means that I see things that I wouldn't otherwise know about, so I bought stuff. Well ok, the 3 fitted sheets were needed. Connor put his foot through two of them in a week, and there were no more spares. He's been sleeping on the other side of my bed for four nights, and I want my space back. Besides, he likes Molly to sleep with him and she snores like a drunken sailor. I thought I moved that out of my life when I got rid of the husband...

We were in Big W when I saw some wool. And patterns. And yes I know I said I had to use up the wool I had here before I began anything new, but the wool was so reasonably priced, and the throw that I'll knit is needed (I'm a reptile and I get cold...... ok I KNOW summer's nearly here, but .... um.... it'll go away again and I need it for next winter.... surely the drought will have broken by then.....), so I bought a book of patterns for throws, and 8 big balls of non-cat-hair-showing-wool that were only $3 each.

We had some time to kill while we waited for Jordan to ring, so we went into a bookshop. I was looking for the book that Jane from Yarnstorm has written, but it's not out in Australia till Dec 1. BUT I saw the new Barefoot Investor book. Those of you who know me know that I got interested in investing last year, after I realised that the $3.50c that I had in superannuation meant that the only travelling I'd be doing when I retired was from the kitchen to the lounge room. Last summer holidays I read 36 books on investing, started my portfolio and also started the kids portfolios. (Gotta love a bull market.... go BHP!!)

The barefoot investor: 5 steps to financial freedom. by Scott Pape (publisher: Pluto Press, Australia 2007.)
I paid $25.95. (Yes, I know. Shut up, oh voice of my frugality kick. This is an investment in my future. And Jack's. Truly!!!)

Apparently this is a revised edition, just out now. I really want Jack to read it. This guy is only young, and he writes in such an accessible way that I hope if Jack reads it he'll have a lightbulb moment. God knows it's a little boring when good old Mum talks to him about it. (Though maybe I'm being a bit harsh. He DID keep asking my advice on the stock market when his Business Studies class was doing the stock market game.) The other three kids have taken to saving and investing like ducks to water, but Jack still spends money as soon as he gets it.

By the time we got home it was 6pm, so dinner didn't get served till 7. How much productive work got done?
Did I go to Aldi? No.
Any housework get done? No.
Did I weed the veggie patches and put compost around the potatoes? No.
Any knitting get started. ..................no.....
The weeks clothes folding that is piled up almost to my waist in the kitchen.... still there? ....yes...

But I did finish the Stephen King book I began when I was away...............






(Jordan sampling his handiwork. Another successful breakfast.)

One more sleep...

Daphne in the garden with me. I've never known an animal to enjoy smelling the garden so much. It's nice when I'm pottering around, weeding or watering. The girls seem to magically appear and just hang around near me. Companionable.

I saw this great saying, supposed to be from a comedian on 'Parkinson'. I thought I'd post it, because it puts a terrific spin on the old saying. Here 'tis:

"Never put off till tomorrow what you can do today. You may find that you like it, and then you can do it again tomorrow."

Today is baking and cooking day. I have a heap of fruit, onions and salad stuff to use up, so I'll be making lots of soups and stews to freeze. I want to have the first week of term's biscuits and cakes ready to go, because something tells me that I won't feel like spending my first day back chained to the oven. So I think I'll make cornflake cookies and some chocolate chip ones, and 4 or 5 cakes. That should keep body and soul together for the boys.

I was going to go to Aldi and stock up before we leave, but now I think I'll wait until the first weekend of term. I haven't been for nearly 3 months, and my stocks of flour, margarine and pasta are getting low. So we'll just eat out of the pantry, and the boys and I will take 2 trolleys and do the HUGE Aldi shop in a couple of weeks. I love having a big pantry and freezer to be able to do a main shopping trip every 3 months instead of every 3 days. The more I stay out of the supermarket the happier my wallet gets.

Young Molly needs a bath before she goes to my parents' place tomorrow, and the boys are getting haircuts this afternoon after lunch with their Dad. I'll probably get one of them to run the clippers over my head as well, just to look neat. A number 4, so it still has a little length. (Just not much.) Suitcases are coming out today, and the packing begins!! Whoopee!

Duty-free madness.

Well, it's official. I've gone mental.

Nothing to do with the guy on the left. He was our waiter last year in Bali. I included him because I'm finally getting excited about our trip to Phuket. No, my slip from sanity is all to do with the duty free shopping I did this morning.

My friend Pitsa is going to Phuket with her family at the same time we are, so we were on the phone yesterday trying to work out where we could catch up. (We're staying a mere 120km away from each other. It's like from here to Ballarat, so who knows if we'll manage it?) Anyway, she told me that you don't have to go to an official Duty Free shop anymore... you can buy stuff anywhere and just take what you bought and the receipts to the airport and they post a cheque for the GST or whatever it is. So naturally I popped in to Harvey Norman to look for a Christmas present for Connor.

$1500 later I leave, staggering slightly at the thought of how much money I'd spent. $350 was for a camera for me... but the rest is all for the boys. At least Christmas is now taken care of. The only challenge ahead of me is how to take their presents to Thailand and back again without them noticing. I'd tell you what I bought for them, but then I'd have to kill you. Nothing spoils Christmas in this house. Seriously though, Connor sometimes has a read of the things I write, and I'd hate for him to scroll down and find out. Lets just say that 'Santa' (attractive woman that she is) will only be leaving one very small box for each of the boys. But I think they'll be rapt when they see what's inside.

I was going to get so much done around here today, but I was at least 2 hours in Harvey Norman, agonising over choices. They had a big sale that finishes today, so I had to get in quick. When I finish this I'll be making pet food, which will be another hour or so, and then I'll be racing around making up the boys' beds and folding all their washing before they get home from their Dad's. Jack rang last night... Port Adelaide are in the Grand Final. Just my luck! I hope for his sake that Thai tv shows it. At least we can tape it, so he can see it when we get home, but it won't be the same.

My sister and the girls are coming tomorrow, so I'd better make sure the house looks respectable. Her place always looks immaculate, so the bar is raised very high. At least I've made a start with lunch. I made 3 huge pots of chicken stock yesterday. Two are divided up in the freezer, but we're having home made chicken noodle soup tomorrow for lunch. Yum!