words worth

There are some words that seem to have fallen from fashion, while others persist (do you reckon that Cool is always going to mean that for generations of kids? Other terms come and go, but cool keeps on hanging on - which is kinda cool). 

I'd like to see the following returned to the vernacular:

Peachy. If people ask how you're doing, I do think that "Peachy" is the perfect response.

Forthwith. Gives a sense of urgency and honor to any event.

Anywhoodle: Much cuter than anyhow.

How 'bout you?

un petit plat

The Southern Highlands is the cutest mix of England and France. We came across this gorgeous vineyard who offered quite possibly the nicest luncheon menu I've seen in a while. The three of us shared the charcuterie plate and moaned in rapture over the homemade pork rillettes. We also had a very civilised wine tasting over our meal and walked out with a rather nice bottle of red.

Should you be in the region, I strongly recommend you drop in. The Vineyard's called Mount Ashby Estate and while you're there, check out the french antiques on sale in the barn. They're pricey, but so pretty to look at.

down boy

I took the fairy lights down yesterday. You know how I said that you couldn't really still see them because of the wisteria? Well, considering that the wisteria is now merely brown sticks, buds and a coupla sickly-looking leaves, those blue icicle christmas lights were somewhat on the obvious side. Oh, and will I be putting them up again next Christmas? Um, no. Some pesky critter (possum, cockatoo, husband...) chewed through both wires so they're dead. At least that helps us make up our mind about the solar pool heating. The cockatoo and possum resistant glass panels are looking far more attractive than the black plastic strips (purdier too).

sloth city

I do believe that my butt has fused to my office chair. Since returning from holidays I've only left it to shower, cook and sleep - oh, and go out for a quick cocktail and tapas with the girls yesterday (they were aghast when I left at 6pm to come home to work - well, imagine how I felt! - and yes, you read that correctly 6PM not AM...)

My daughter just came in and squealed "You're still in your pajamas - at three o'clock" and tragically, it's true. Without the motivation of the school run it's leopard-print flannel pj pants, a tank top and a bejewelled pink cardi - and my pink uggs. Super glama mama... or mega-sloth? Yep, the latter. I will have to change to dash out to Coles later for dinner stuff, and thank god I've got netball to enable me to prise my butt from the chair. At least I've been productive-ish.

Husband sick in bed, daughter calling out for yet another snack (how much can one child eat?) and brain cells begging for another glass of water. At least I've got Project Runway Australia to look forward to. Caught a little of the first ep last night before bed and am rather sweet on it already. Love the cute little platinum blonde girl - and the cutey patootey with the amazing bangs (fringe doesn't do what she's got going on justice) - and Leigh, my new gay crush... I'm such a fashion victim. So glad that first girl went home - she performed serious crimes with pink chiffon.

Idol chatter

Am stupidly excited this morning, which is a nice change from plain old stupid... My friend Milissa just emailed me to let me know she'd booked tickets to see David Sedaris a man I worship ever-so-much. He's in conversation with Judith Lucy so I'm pretty sure the banter will be as dry as ye olde creek bed in central Australia. 

there's no place like home

We're finally back from our relaxing week in the Southern Highlands, and as soon as I get the energy I'll pop some photos up. The house we stayed in was absolutely amazing. A gorgeous structure with sublime country views. And the town of Burrawang is undoubtedly the perfect country village. It only has a butcher and a pub - but what a pub, and what a butcher. Sometime soon a restaurant will be opening in the old General Store and we'll be zipping back down to check it out. 

There were a few glorious finds. Exeter General Store contains a rocking cafe that did a sour cherry and walnut bread (served with spiced ricotta and honey) that is quite possibly a coffee's best accompaniment. I also adored the town of Bundanoon. The cutest little cafe, Bloomin' Cafe, sits in the main street and it's bliss in a storefront. Cosy, with scrummy homemade goods (lemon slice and those yummy mushroom cakes!), great cofffee and service by the sweetest ladies you're ever likely to meet.

I had quite the find in the local op shop in Moss Vale - and oh, it was squeal-worthy - the Margaret Fulton Crockpot Cookbook. For 50 cents. Seriously, this tome is priceless. I'm so in love with it and can't wait to crack out the slow cooker and try a few meals. The hints and tips contained within its aged pages would be worth $50 alone, and the recipes... Have I mentioned before how I do so love op-shopping?

The Southern Highlands really is quite the gem. I could easily spend another week exploring and pottering around its shops and peering up majestic drives to spy yet another jaw-dropping house. The houses were perfection in weatherboard. There was a real french feel about so many homes that obviously I adored. It did also make me appreciate our home all the more (especially the air conditioning after a day where it seemed to hit a high of five degrees!). Our house welcomed us home with a display of snowdrops, iris (three varieties) and the first of the jasmine - I know, it's nowhere near Spring...

Just heard to washing machine beep - time to wash another load before flopping down to watch a film on Foxtel.

browned off

Hey, guess what? Because I was so stressed and time poor today I didn't brown the meat before popping it in the slow cooker (I did brown the bacon though... mmmm) and cheapo blade steak has never been soooo tender and succulent. How much do you love it when the lazy way turns out to be the best way?

Oh, and are you wondering how stressed a human can be? Well, today I was in such a state I forgot to breathe. Twice. Yep, a waking form of sleep apneoa (can't spell it, too tired) was what I experienced. I am so not googling that!

Another positive out of my time-poor state? I took my fave french vintage skirt to have the elastic waist replaced at my dear little op-shop/alteration place (the one on Darby St where I found the pristine black suede vintage italian t-bars - sigh) and she repaired it while I waited. Bless. So while I was waiting I browsed the racks and found this fabulous black corset belt. It's the softest of leather, about six inches wide and it has buckles and if I hadn't told you I'd bought it there for, yep, six bucks, you'd swear I'd ripped it from the pages of Vogue for six hundred. 

Getting schleepy now. Must rest before the road trip. Have a wonderful week - let's catch up when I get back! I know  - we'll do photos over champagne. Super!

timely

I can't quite remember what it was like to have all the time in the world, but I'm pretty sure that when I did, annoying, urgent tasks didn't pop up constantly. Now, we're going on a week's holiday tomorrow morning and I before we do I have to:

1. Finish one more article (sent one off this morning - yay!)

2. Organise interviews and do the research for another article that's due the day after we return

3. Pack my bag

4. Wash a load of dark clothes to take on holiday

5. Take up my new tracksuit pants that were obviously designed for stilt walkers

6. Tidy the house so my house-sitter doesn't drown in squalor

7. Pay rego on the car

8. Go shopping to buy bits and pieces for holiday (cereal, crackers, etc)

9. Take down the damned fairy lights

10. Take out the recycling and rubbish

11. Pop casserole in slow cooker

12. Pick up my hideously expensive toner cartridge from refilling place

Pretty comprehensive non? 

Well today as I walked out the door on the way to the mechanics to get my pink slip I noticed that the wind had blown a third of my jasmine from the fence. Great. Now, my jasmine spans about 5 metres and is about a metre thick and covered in teeny red buds - it's not going to be easy or fun. But what's the point of droopy, noddy jasmine, that's only going to fall further in our absence? Can my husband do it? Hardly. He's in the car driving 3 hours to Sydney to have his six week check up on his knee and won't be home till after dark. 

Oh, hell, I'm up for a challenge...

better off red

Because she spent the first five years of her life vegetarian, we've been slowly introducing Annabella to the world of meat, and now, I think we've turned a corner. Tonight, we were shopping when she said "Tomorrow, for dinner, can we have that beef in red wine you cook?" Yes, that would be an eight year old asking for a rich, beefy, wine-soaked stew. Now, kids and stews don't usually mix. Kids normally like their food readily identifiable and not invading the personal space of any other item on their plate. But my gal's obviously developing quite the palate. Wanna try her new fave meal?

Annabella's beef in red wine

1kg stewing meat (there was really cheap scotch fillet when I last made this, tomorrow, it's blade steak)

3 bulbs of garlic (I had fresh garlic from the markets that week, this week, it's just bulbs)

1 stick celery

1 carrot

2 onions

2 cups beef stock

6 strips of bacon

steak seasoning (was in a cheating frame of mind, but it worked, and I'm doing it again)

2 tblsp tomato past

2 cups of red wine

1 tin cherry tomatoes (my new lust)

Dice the meat into mega chunks. Finely dice everything else. Sear the meat to brown, specially the bacon, then throw absolutely everything into the slow cooker on low for six to eight hours. (Have I mentioned how I do so adore my slow cooker?)

Before serving I thickened with a paste made from a good tablespoon of cornflour mixed with water and threw some chopped flat leafed parsley leaves over the top. I served it with mash, cos I'm no fool. 

win win

Today I had to drag myself out of the house as my printer's run out of toner. This, of course, necessitated a trip two suburbs away to the refilling toner shop in Hamilton. Fortuitously I found a park, and, excitingly, it was smack bang in front of the Smith Family op shop. J'adore op shops and it's my motto that it's a sin to pass one by. Ducking in I flicked through the clothes, but nothing jumped out and bit me on the credit card, so I went to the treasure chest that is the linen section when, "Oh, hello, fancy meeting you here!"

Now we've been looking for fabric to cover the cane day bed in the living room for yonks. And it's soooo hard to find anything nice. We'd quite like a subtle floral, with roses, in a kind of washed out colour. Nana chic. Well colour me chuffed if I didn't find a bedspread/sheet/valance thingy in just the colours I wanted - in a pretty rose pattern too. It even had a ruffle along one side that was the exact length of my day bed. And it was only $4 - a stark contrast to the gazilion dollars per metre we were previously looking at. It's the perfect size, so now I just need to develop the sewing skills necessary to cover the mattress. 

I rock at op-shopping.

boystuff v girlstuff

Although I'm undoubtedly a girly girl, with sprinkles on top, there are some 'boy things' that I do. I take care of the cars, get them serviced etc (hell, I used to do it myself when we had our little Morris Minor!). I'm also keen to be in charge of the open fire in our farmhouse next week. However, I don't want to be the person to take down the fairy lights. Now, before you exclaim, I'm not one of those slatterns with christmas decorations up in July (oh wait, I am, but really, you can't see them 'cause they're hidden in the wisteria). Unfortunately I do have to be that person as my husband's knee injury precludes him from climbing ladders. Selfish.

I managed to reach up and pull most of them down, but there are two sections stuck in some particularly tenacious wisteria tendrils which are now just flapping around in the wind, reminding me that I need to get out the ladder and get climbing. I can't even enjoy my usual view of the veranda from my study window as all I can see is a flappy pile of lights. Sigh, another task to add to the to dos...

now what?

Project Runway's done and dusted, ANTM was revealed - Demelza, of course! Now how am I supposed to spend my nights? Well you just know that I'll be jumping on the crazy train that is America's Next Top Model - although how many seconds into an episode will I get before Tyra makes me want to pluck my eyeballs out with a toothpick? And Australian Project Runway - how do I feel about that? The ads have been cute, I'm liking the concept of Kristy Hinze, but the three 'designs' revealed on the stage at Luna Park last night... not so fond. I coveted items in the US show - I wanted to fly Rami over and have him design me something all lush and drapey (but I'd choose the colour - man, is that boy colourblind?) And Christian? Oh, I so want to keep him in my pocket and pull him out for moments of delicious giggles. 

Don't you fret about me though, a true TV addict never goes without.

why i need to fall over a big bag of money that's just sitting on the sidewalk

So I can go to Petersham Nursery and have lunch at a long table filled with bouquets like this. Bliss!

This weekend

I'll be sitting here. Yes, chances are there'll be a glass in my hand. I will be ever-so-rugged up. I've found my thermals (which fortunately are an attractive shade of lavendar - not old lady beige) and will be taking my snuggly charcoal cashmere/wool Stella McCartney cardi (god love her for doing a range at Target). Over my lap will be a pale pink and ice cream Laura Ashely throw and I'll only move if the temperature moves into the minuses...

redecoration

I felt like a bit of a change was in order, and, as I'm poorly sick, lugging around the furniture in my house just wasn't going to cut it. So I've changed my blog. You likee? I'm slowly navigating my way through the technological stuff on blogger - see Nick, I've learned how to link! But I couldn't restyle my old page without a weird, 70s bridesmaid burgundy - and I only do burgundy in a glass, or over beef. So, old - you're outta there, and new, Hiya, how you doin'? I also put up a picture of me in glowing health - yes, a few glasses of champers may have been consumed before said image... don't you think that's the only way to appear happy and natural in a 'candid' shot?

I'm counting down the days till we leave on our winter holiday. A week in the southern highlands, friends, good food, red wine, champagne, schnapps... and I'll be taking along a few books too. I've got a pile of 'only good enough to read once' novels I'm going to sell at the 2nd hand store, and with the money I'll earn, I'll regift myself with a few second handies. I'm in an extraordinarily optimistic mood and feel quite certain that Julie and Julia will be on the shelves. After reading The Sharper Your Knife, the less you cry by Kathleen Flinn last week, I'm all over french cooking books. So J&J sounds perfecto. Fingers crossed!

I loves me a bit of posh

I was watching the Project Runway finale last night (Yay for Christian!) and fell a bit in love with Posh all over again. Is she the only white woman who can look good in orange? And to see the tender little love story blossoming between her and Christian was just so, so sweet. 

I'll never understand why I fall so hard for some celebs and loathe others so deeply. Liz Hurley for example - why does she still exist? I just viewed a picture of her going to one of Elton's parties and wanted to scream at my monitor... but I've lost my voice so I had to resort to gurning. But because I'm fickle it's entirely possible that one day Liz will do something to charm me and I'll revert to loving her forever. Not as much as I love Posh ('cause she's married to Becks so that's double the love) but still, there's the possibility of inexplicable fondness.

Pammy, however, oh Pammy, sit down. I'm proud to say that I haven't watched a millisecond of this series of Big Brother, and there's no way I'm tuning into the car wreck viewing it's bound to be with Pammy appearing. I used to love her so, but now, not so much. I do appreciate though that, as we're a similar age, she does make me look youthful and fresh (was is going on with her?) I would like to clarify that I'm not being ageist here. I'm happy that Pammy has said no to the bo (botox is satan's spawn - as evidenced by the judging panel on ANTM and all the other shiny, possibly happy, or maybe sad, people in celeb-land). Pammy, it's time to leave the house and quit drinking - you do remember you've got Hep C don't you? 

snot fair

I have a cold. My head's stuffed up, my ears are blocked, and apparently I swallowed a few dozen razor blades last night.

I need chicken soup. STAT. And a butler to bring it to me. Honestly, nothing brings out my craving for a butler more than feeling poorly sick. When you're poorly sick the last thing you want is to schlep out to the kitchen to fetch your own cup of tea - that only compounds the misery. However, having a butler to do your work... that's what I'm needing. And maybe a hairdresser's apprentice to come in and wash my hair. It's so in need of a wash that it's nearly felting, and yet, I'm just too poorly sick to make my way to the shower to wash it.

I probably just need to wallow in my misery for a while. That always makes me feel better.

my new best friend

I've often wondered who it would be best to befriend in the retail world, but I do believe I've uncovered the secret. I went to see my lovely, smiley butcher ('cause, you know, there is never another kind) and bought my Bangalow pork loin. I told him how I was planning to stuff it, so he butterflied it for me, and then made deeper incisions in the skin - for better crackling. I then, in my usual chatty way, told him how my daughter, of course, adored the crackle and then, bless him from the tip of his red head to the toe of his shiny shoes, he went out the back and handed over a slab of crackle meat (oh, all right, skin and fat) FOR FREE!

Now that's the way to a gal's heart - no wonder so many ladies love to bat their eyelashes at the man in charge of the mincer...

Doin' the blog do

Tell you what, writing my to do list on this lil blog is far more effective than on an old piece of paper - I've already:

found the recipe for tonight's dinner

filled a spray bottle with bi-carb, vinegar and water and sprayed mouldy shower recess

taken out the recycling

done the interview!

that was easy

I love to google. Within less than a minute, I'd found this - tonight's dinner ingredients. I'll pop down to the butcher for some sweet Bangalow Pork (tried it? You must!)

I'll roll it up, rub the crackle with oil and salt, truss it then blast it on high (230 degrees) for 15 minutes, before turning it down to 180 for 40 minutes or so (I prefer my pork on the rare side). I'll serve it with baked carrots, parsnips, onion, pumpkin and potatoes - and maybe I'll throw a few apples and pears in there as well. Why not? It's cold outside... And brussell sprouts with spec ('cause too much pig is barely enough!)

Gordon Ramsay's Roast Loin of Pork

1.3kg pork loin

zest of 1 lemon

handful of sage leaves

handful of flat parsley, leaves only

2 garlic cloves, finely sliced

olive oil

salt and pepper