sensible shoe of the week

Because I'm pretty sure that it's forecast to rain, pour, bucketdown or sprinkle for the next foreseeable future I'm thinking I may need to invest in a pair of gumboots. Normally, when it's raining, and because I don't want to ruin any of my suede or leather shoes, I'll wear a pair of havaianas - even the other morning when it was eight degrees. That's just craziness.

So I may go wellie shopping on the weekend. Chances are that as soon as I have a pair sitting by the front door we'll be in for a long dryspell - which is just dandy as far as I'm concerned!

shoe of the week

Why thank you Bottega Veneta, don't mind if I do. Any time is Mary Jane time and these are just what I need for a pair of everywhere shoes. I could wear them everywhere, with anything, with a grin spreading across my face. If only my bank account would agree...

going off

I just went one hour and 23 minutes without an internet connection, which promptly made me realise I was addicted to the damned thing. Seriously, if I'd turned on a tap and there was no water I'd shrug and realise that it'd come back on eventually - but my internet? Oh, I refreshed, checked mail, re-started, pushed in every single plug that seemed remotely connected to my mac, and had more than a small whizzy.

It's back now, so I can settle down. Whew.

rear window

The precipitation we're currently experiencing brings new gravitas to the phrase "bucketing down". It's not just raining cats and dogs - it's pouring elephants and rhinos. This is the view from my kitchen window where big fat raindrops the size of baby's fists are hammering down on the surface of the pool - which is about 2mm from overflowing.

Since the Newcastle floods a few years back it's hard not to experience anxiety when the rain is so harsh and unrelenting. Luckily we don't seem to be experiencing the king tides at the beach which fought with the rain trying to escape the storm water drains.

The romance of the sound of rain on a tin roof is sounding a bit hollow these days...

motorin' mama

I'm unusual for a girl in that I really like cars. My head will swivel at the sight of a cool set of wheels - particularly vintage ones, with fins. Despite this, since having a child I've gone all sensible with my wheels. When hubby and I met he owned a cute little Morris Minor and I was restoring a pale grey and white vauxhall cresta {it had fins, whitewall tyres, red leather interior and was a hydromatic - you know, like Greased Lightening...}

So, here I am, a bit of a rev-head yet our two cars are teeny little silver sensible numbers, a hyundai getz and a holden astra - five and eight years old respectively. And I was fine with that. Until today. Today I went to pickup the hire car I'm entitled to under my car's policy {yay Aami!} and emitted a 'kwoar' of delight when I spied what I was driving - a brand new, black Holden Astra.

Oh my.

Anyways, I got behind the wheel and am pretty sure I looked just like Ferris when he slid into the driver's seat of Cameron's dad's car. Sweet.

That's it, I'm smitten. I'm now in new car love, and am pretty sure there will be a petulant pout on these lips when time comes to hand back Black Beauty {yep, already named her} and get back into Old Grey Mare {my new name for my old silver car...}

I'll just enjoy it while it lasts I guess...

to doodle doodle do

For some reason, between yesterday and today, strange things have been afoot. For example, yesterday, if you'd asked me, I would have said I had things pretty well under control for my interstate visitors. Today, when I'm leaving to pick my mum and step-dad up at 1pm from the airport, I'll actually realise that there's a helluva lot to do before they get there.

The sheets for the guest bed are in the washing machine - and will be going in the dryer as it's raining. The guest room needs a good straightening after the sleepover on the weekend. There's paper ALL over the house as my husband's been working on three years worth of my tax for the past week. {I know, a shocker, shan't be doing that again}

So, a plan's in order. I'm going to quickly wash my hair and then start in the kitchen and work my way back through the house. 15 minutes full-on tidying in each room should do it - leaving me free to have a coffee before I leave.

Ready? Set...

easier than opening a pack

Call me odd, but I do like making things. The other day, as I had some sausages I knew I wouldn't use, puff pastry in the freezer and kids coming over I whipped up some sausage rolls. It was as simple as slicing a nick in the end of the sausage casing, peeling it off and laying it on a piece of puff pastry I'd sliced in thirds {three chiplatas per row}. Then I rolled them in the pastry and pushed down the edges to seal. A quick baste with plenty of beaten egg and they went in the oven for 15 minutes - a lot quicker than the frozen ones. Plus, if you've got a butcher you trust, using sausages can work out easier than mixing up your own filling. Served with a big bowl of tomato sauce that's some pretty satisfied kids!

my unreal life

You'll never see me auditioning for reality television. For a few minutes earlier this year I pondered applying for MasterChef, and every night as I watch it I'm sooooooo glad I didn't. For a start, the challenges stump me. Last night? Kingfish, coconut, pineapple and rum? Sure, I can imagine making a few things out of them - but nothing I'd want to eat. The contradictory nature offends me as well. "Think outside the box" exhort the judges, "Don't go out of your comfort zone," they implore... Huh?

Last night the judges whooped with joy when Geni affirmed that she'd be making baklava with the nuts, then tutted and told her she needed to step away from home-cooking when said dish was placed before them. And let's not get started on the vicious forums dedicated to reality contestants. Harsh, mean, soul-destroying. Seriously, if I were MasterChef contestant Sandra and her hubby I'd be moving to another country - one without access to YouTube... 

That said, of course I tune in every night. My week's not complete without its reality run. As horrified as I am by the treatment of Cassie on Australia's Next Top Model do you reckon I'll be protesting by turning it off? Um, nope. It does mean that I'll be helping to realistically boost my daughter's self-esteem, and, should she ever state she'll be auditioning for one of these programs, I'm pretty sure I'll be investing in a couple of plane tickets and scooting her out of town quick smart. 

Reality really does bite.

not another manic monday

From now on I refuse to start the week off in a grump. My loathing on Monday often plummets me into a serious dose of the blues - but that ain't happening from here on in. So today I dressed in a gorgeous new {op-shop new} bright blue top, shiny silver pendant, favourite black and white vintage skirt, opaque tights and pale pink flats. 

I'm finishing off the article I've been postponing, have done a massive load of washing that's drying in the gorgeous winter sunshine and I think I'll cook up a seven-hour leg of lamb for dinner tonight. I've got netball at 6.40 and the MasterChef pressure challenge later on tonight. Seriously, what's not to love about Mondays huh?

sunday smiles

living the crazy life

Hope that's put a nice little image of Ricky Martin in your heads for the weekend! I'm having one of those weeks - that started mid-week so I'm guessing it'll end around Wednesday next week. You know those weeks where it seems like the universe is playing one massive mind-game with you? It started with Thursday afternoon. I had a computer induced eye-head-ache, you know, the headache in your eye thingy? So once my daughter came home from school and I fed and watered her I popped on an eye mask and lay on my bed, blinds drawn. Then, I heard this almightly bang and thought to myself, 'wow, that sounds just like a car crash except their was no breaking glass or creaking of metal' and settled down to rest. Until my doorbell rang. Yes, that would be my car, or the rear of it, in all its plastic and non-metalic glory that'd been rear-ended by a little old lady after taking her husband to the Drs. Sigh.

Then today, at netball, I'm there, on the sidelines, encouraging my little team, who're playing their hearts out - and actually in the lead for the first time ever, when an official comes over and tells me there have been complaints that I'm coaching from the sidelines. Me? I apologise, bemused, and ask what constitutes 'coaching from the sidelines' and apparently it involves moving from the one spot and calling any instructions. Which, colour me confused, I don't believe I did. I start looking around for the parallel universe, or Ashton Kutcher, anything, but no. Sure, I move up the sidelines, and yes, I call out, but it's retrospective praise, or the odd "Move in front of your player" kinda thing. Obviously the other team aren't used to losing.

So then I stand, frozen, mute, watching my team - and the opposing coach cruising up and down the line, calling out instructions, standing and coaching under the goal posts. And I fume. Silently mind.

After the game I approach officials and ask for a little more clarification and am left as bemused as ever. C'est la vie. I've asked the coaching official at my club exactly what I can and can't do and will just have to shrug and move on. My main goal is for the happiness of my team. If they never win it won't bother me - but I know that they'd love just one win - just once before the end of season. They'll get there.

You know why all this is happening don't you? Hubby's away and I've got a witchy-poo pimple on the end of my nose, and another right on the bridge so that every time I look left, there's a pimply obstruction in my view. Is it possibly for anything to go right at a time like this? Oh, did I mention the whole PMT scenario?

I'm trying to get over it - after all, these are just teensy irritations designed to let you see how good your life normally is. I've washed my hair, my gal's invited her bestest bud over for a sleepover and we'll do nails, go out for gourmet burgers, pop corn and watch a DVD. Then, once they're in bed, there'll be a hot chocolate with my name on it.

Tomorrow's another day.

ships ahoy

You'd get me on a cruise if I could pack this little number in my luggage. Chanel, in Venice, sigh...

sew excited

Chances are that I've mentioned before how my husband just tunes out ads - never, ever pays attention to them. Not me. Oh no, the opening seconds and I can tell you exactly what it's all about - particularly if it's an ad I loathe.

Anywhaddle, I was just tidying the living room, TV still on after I'd watched a few minutes of SATC over lunch {had to stop - it was the one where Carrie and Big have the affair - hate that almost as much as Berger...} and I heard the opening for a Project Runway Australia ad. Thinking it was just the usual, I wandered out, hands full of little bits of my daughter's stuff to return to her room, and when I came back in realised that they were SHOWING THE NEW CONTESTANTS!!!!!!!!!!!  Dammit. I caught a quick flash and am already feeling excited. Sure, nobody can ever eclipse the love I feel for Leigh {my husband was dead-over my crush on him by the end of the series} but still, looking diverse and interesting.

July 8 - off to get that date tattooed on my brain.

oh fair lady

Despite still being on the plan which allows us to view every single Foxtel channel {for an exorbitant sum mind, not out of the goodness of their teeny black hearts...}, we tend to stick to a few favourites. Well, last night, due to a dearth of anything on my usual channels I stepped outside my comfort zones and watched a biography of Audrey Hepburn. I've always been enchanted by her, have watched most of her films, and could just drown in those gorgeous eyes. Which was why I was astonished to hear that she described her face as "a square, with tiny, little eyes". What? Those enormous doe eyes above? Sure, she has the most exquisite eye make-up, but small, square? Pardon? 

People never see us the way we imagine ourselves do they?

no boys allowed

Hubby's off on a golfing weekend {Heaven help the town of Terrigal} so my gal and I have a big weekend of being girly together. We're starting off by having some friends over for afternoon tea and then we're having a special dinner - as per my gal's request. Unlike most nine-year-olds she's asked for duck confit, potatoes cooked in duck fat and green beans with toasted almond slivers {she'll eat the almonds and leave the beans of course!}. Luckily I had two pieces of confit duck in the freezer {as you do... it was from the 12 pack I bought and loved} so that's defrosting.

We'll do our nails, watch a movie - then she can have a sleepover with me {yep, no night's rest for me next to that little windmill!} Saturday will start off with netball - with her grandparents coming down to watch. Then they'll pop back here for morning tea {oooh yeah - a lot of baking - scones this time, quick and easy and delish} followed by an afternoon of bike-riding, visiting the beach and finishing off her assignment. Saturday night we'll go out for dinner - her choice again {second choice - her first was the french Bistro Tartine - second the gourmet burger bar - more in budget!} and once she falls asleep I'm going to make myself an enormous hot chocolate and settle in to watch a good girly film.

Sunday we'll get up and make breakfast {eggy bread and bacon perhaps} and rug up and eat it in the pavilion by the pool before greeting hubby when he comes home...

frugal friday

Nowadays I'm looking for items with more than one use. Lavender oil for example. Smells purdy - has dozens of uses...

• Mix a few drops into a bottle of water and it's a swish-smelling multi-purpose cleaner, great for swiping down the bench tops or the bathroom vanity

• Again mix it with water and spray it on as an insect repellent

• A few drops in your rinse water, or in your fabric softener zone, will leave clothes smelling like the South of France

• A drop on your temples can relive sinus or headaches

• A couple of drops on a cotton ball can remove sticky residue from stickers etc

• A few drops on a cloth, rubbed over a cold light globe will help infuse the room with scent when the light's turned on - repelling mozzies and helping you get a good night's sleep

• Mix some milk powder with a couple of drops of lavender {and some lavender petals if you grow it} for a milk bath solution that'd make Cleopatra turn green

• Nasty pimple? A little lavender oil on the end of a cotton bud applied in the middle will see it to its death in the nicest way

• A handful of sea salt, a sploodge of olive oil and a few drops of lavender and you have a scrummy body scrub

• I always mop my floors with hot water with a couple of drops of essential oils and lavender's a must for the bedroom

• and finally, for really sweet dreams, a few drops of lavender oil on a cotton ball, placed under the bottom sheet near the pillow, welcomes the sandman in the most scentsational way...

What's your multi-purpose fave?

louby douby doo

On this uber-frosty morning I thought I'd turn up the heat with these red-hot-mamas. I'm loving on the sleek lines, that glorious shade and the teeteringly high heels. Imagine them with a purple pencil skirt... Mmmmm.

do it yourself

When it comes to helping your child with their homework and assignments it's a fine-line. I remember when our daughter was in kinder checking out some incredible dioramas and flip-top contraptions revealing the insects the children were meant to be writing about. Our child had a sheet of cardboard with wonky insects pasted on and some words written in her own, cute hand. That'd be it. 

Each year I watch with interest and see the kids whose parents obviously dive on the assignments with joy, seeing them as a chance to fulfil their childhood prophesy; the ones where the parents obviously reluctantly assemble the projects the night before; the ones where the kids have primarily worked on it themselves and the poor little ones where the kids have had no guidance at all. This is where it's tough, trying to guide, but not lead.

Our daughter has an assignment at the moment {she's in year 4} where they have to come up with an imaginary country and imagine all the different aspects of it {climate, mapping, flora and fauna... heaps of stuff} it's pretty cool - but hard to find the time on top of regular homework, netball, dancing and playdates. However, yesterday she stayed home from ballet cos she's got a cold - and snotty tissues and ballet don't mix - so we got started. I wrote out all the questions in a word doc, and she sat there and typed - while I tried to keep my gob shut. Luckily she decided to pretend to be Dr Seuss and came up with the coolest ideas ever. She has the best animals and insects, cool flowers, an amazing flag, national dish, sports... and all through her own imagination - with me only asking the odd question. Phew.

I want her to be creative and imaginative - but how do children know what's out there without a little subtle guidance? Hopefully by pointing her in the direction of inspiration {for example she checked out things like the population of Iceland - which is just near her 'country' Winter Wonder Land for guidance} I'll help her develop new ways of thinking that'll see her through her schooling. She knows we're happy to help - but is dead keen to do as much as possible herself. Gotta be happy with that.

birthday boy

Oh Mr Depp. Forty six huh? Le wow...

what about me?

I don't know if it's just a girl thing, that becomes magnified when it also becomes a mum thing, but tell you what, how hard is it to do something for yourself? Take yesterday. We got home from a sleepover at our in-laws and I rushed to put on a load of washing, then hubby and I sat down to go through my tax {without killing each other - hurrah}, then I made snacks for hungry girls, and felt overwhelmingly tired. 

Instead of napping I thought I'd go for a walk - more invigorating. Then I looked into the backyard and realised that a few windy days have probably left the trees in the planter boxes by the pool rather thirsty, so I took myself out to water them. 45 minutes later I'm inside, and preparing dinner - no walking. 

Then, I smacked myself into some sense and realised how much I need a daily walk. I love it for the exercise, the stress-relief and the time to myself. So at 5.30, despite the darkness, I headed off to the beach and boy, was it fabulous. Sure, it was a little scary {seriously, were there more streetlights when I was a kid, or were they just brighter? It's so freaking DARK these nights!} but that just made me walk more briskly. I got to see the most amazingly full moon hanging over the ocean leaving a shimmering white path from the horizon to the shore which was pretty cool. I got to breathe in that amazingly fresh ocean air and hear waves come crashing down on the wet sand.

I came home in a much better mood, refreshed, no longer tired and capable of doing so much more than I would have with a nap. I'm now even more determined to fit a 30 minute walk into every day - seriously, if it were a drug I'd be taking it every day...