Trick or Treat

When I first started working at this company many years ago, there were a lot of things that were new to me. But I adapted. One thing I'm still trying to get to grips with is the 'theme day'. Now, I'm not sure if this is something that lots of workplaces do, but we do it. A lot.

I remember in my first month, I rang my mum in tears at midnight one night because I had to make an Easter bonnet, and it just wasn't happening for me. She told me to call an ambulance as obviously I needed psychiatric help.

I'm getting better at it as time goes on. Lord knows I've had some practice.

This week I even had a breakthrough of sorts. We had Halloween. I knew exactly what to wear. My 'Jacob is the New Black' t-shirt. And I knew just what to bring for the morning tea:

'Fred' ABC Cutters

And I looked around at my colleagues and what they were wearing and what they bought to eat. It made me smile. And I didn't feel like a freak at all. Despite the fact that I am a forty year old woman, advertising not only the fact that she loves the Twilight series but actually has a preference between a vampire and a werewolf for a boyfriend.

Maybe I've accepted this 'theme day' gig or maybe it's Halloween I love. But I am very happy today. And totally strung out on sugar.

Peanut Blossoms

Peanut Blossoms

Makes about 48 small cookies

1 3/4 cup self raising flour
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar, firmly packed
1/2 cup shortening or soft unsalted butter
1/2 cup smooth peanut butter
2 tbsp milk
1 tsp vanilla
1 egg
extra sugar
50 Kisses or chocolate squares

Preheat oven to 180 degrees.
Mix all dough ingredients except extra sugar until you have a smooth dough. A hand mixer works best for this.
Roll into walnut-sized balls (1 inch) and toss in extra sugar to coat.
Place onto ungreased baking sheets, about 5cm apart.
Bake about 10-12 mins until golden.
While cookies are baking unwrap your chocolate. Once the cookies come out, you need to work fast.
Immediately top each cookie with chocolate and press down slightly so cookie cracks around the edges.
Remove from sheets and cool on a wire rack.
The extra 2 pieces of chocolate? I can't believe you haven't eaten them already!

Lor Ann's Flavouring Oils

Vanilla extract is a wonderful thing. But sometimes you just want something different. And I don't mean fake strawberry. I recently dicovered Lor Ann Flavouring Oils and I am seriously hooked. I generally use them in buttercream (actually, every batch of vanilla buttercream I make now has a few drops of Marshmallow added in for fun and yum). These oils are readily available at a huge number of cake decorating and chocolate making stores here but not everyone has the same range. I usually order online from Inspired By Chocolate because they're really nice people and have about 50 flavours. I would suggest ordering the dram bottle to start off - a little goes a looooong way.

Here's a few of my faves :

Watermelon

Cotton Candy

Bubble Gum

Marshmallow

This was for a competition - I won! (sorry about the photo)

Bubblegum, Cola, Cotton Candy, Marshmallow

These oils really are a lot of fun and make for a nice surprise when people first taste them. I highly recommend starting a little (or big) collection.

My Poor Freezer

Before the boys came along, my freezer usually contained the following :

- a bottle of Absolut vodka. I never drank it, but a freezer needs vodka, no?
- several blends of coffee
- chicken carcasses waiting to be 'stocked'
- at least 3 flavours of gourmet ice cream
- maybe a packet of spinach pastizzi
- lots and lots of ice cubes

Nothing more, nothing less. Everything had it's place and sometimes I used to just look in there to make myself happy.
Now, my freezer contains the following :

The little yellow-lidded container is my coffee. How long does coffee actually keep in the freezer? Forever, I hope. Because that's how long that's been there. I'm more of an instant girl these days. Or if I'm truthful, iced instant coffee. Unintentional iced coffee.
And on the outside of the freezer, back then? Nothing. I used to be an appliance purist. But now?

All the mothers I know ask 'why didn't anyone ever really tell me what labour was going to be like?' I'm wondering why nobody told me what would happen to my freezer.

RIP My Wooden Friend

Many years ago, before I left home, I had a glory box filled with all the things that I would need when I married a prince and moved into a castle. There was the dinner set with the little country ducks around the rims. Why? That is actually a very reasonable question. And the answer is 'I dont know'. Maybe because it was 1987? That's my excuse for a lot of things. There was heirloom crystal, a set of silver cutlery, mixing bowls and a million tea towels. Pretty much nothing of any real use. Except a wooden spoon.

Of course, I didn't marry a prince but all my treasures came with me when I made my way out into the world. And all were unused except the wooden spoon. It was with me as I learned to cook - honey soy chicken wings with 2 minute noodles anyone? Time and time again it was packed into a box and moved with me or sat in the box at my mothers house while I travelled the world. I lost or gave away so many things over the years but that spoon was a constant in my kitchen.
Sure, I had other spoons over the years but every time I cooked, my fingers would instinctively seek out that particular spoon. Nothing else felt quite right in my hands. With time, the spoon grew beautiful. Smooth as marble and so full of love. It helped me cook every meal I made for S when we were starting our lives together, vegetable purees for my tiny sons, sauces, pasta and cakes. So very many cakes.
In honesty, I didn't realise how much I loved that spoon and possibly didn't treat it right - although I did rescue it from S's Secret Kitchen Drawer Downsize of '04. But now I think it should have had it's own special place in my kitchen. Not just shoved in the jar with all the other utensils. I put that spoon with a silicon spatula, for God's sake! I'm sorry.
Anyway, last night S was a bit cranky with the kids and was telling them that when he was little, he would get smacked with a wooden spoon and they were very lucky that didn't happen to them. To prove his point, he whacked my dear, dear spoon onto the counter.

And broke it's neck. I couldn't breathe. As tears welled up in my eyes, he said 'Hello? It's a wooden spoon. What are they? Like 89 cents?' I tried to explain what that spoon and I had been through together and he couldn't see that it wasn't just a spoon. And he didn't say sorry. I tried to point out that even he picked that spoon out of all the wooden spoons in the jar. Didn't that prove it's magic? Why didn't he picked the $20 beauty from Wheel and Barrow (because he would have got splinters from it, that's why. Shame on you Wheel and Barrow.)
He didn't say sorry. My spoon is gone. I may never cook again.

Adam and the Ants? What the ...?

Actually, after reading my last post, I thought some people might be wondering why my five year old son even knows the lyrics of a band who had its heyday a quarter of a century before he was born.
I've never been a fan of kids music and we used to have a pretty long commute to daycare. I tried but  I soon realised that if I had to hear one more Wiggles song, somebody was going to get hurt. Really hurt. For the record, I also won't listen to Play School, the Hooly Doolys, Justine Clarke or anything else kids normally find appealing. I was certain that I could find something in my varied music collection that we could all enjoy and by that I mean something I could enjoy. We've had some failures : Bjork, Madonna, Abba. But Adam and the Ants, Cypress Hill and the Beastie Boys (I did say I had a varied collection) have all hit the mark.
Sorry. I am a selfish mother. Which is why my kids think there is only one channel on the television. The Food Network. They love it.

Iron Maiden vs Adam Ant

My family came over for lunch the other day and the kids were all showing off, as they do. My 2 year old nephew got up on the coffee table and did the most hilarious rendition of an Iron Maiden song. Don’t ask me what, I won’t even pretend I know that stuff but it was a gruff-voiced, air-punching piece of delicious toddler comedy and everyone was in stitches. His father was so proud.

Not to be outdone, Big Boy started prancing around and stuttering the following :
‘Unplug the juice box and do us all a playberrrrr (sic)’
The room was silent. So Big Boy tried again :

‘Diddly qua qua, diddly qua qua.’

And he got diddly squat. I quickly changed the subject.

So Iron Maiden in all it’s gory horror is cute, but Adam and the Ants aren’t? I really beg to differ. What do you think?

Stinky Feet

Fletch is so cute. He ran into the kitchen the other night and screamed out 'Mummy, quick! Take your slippers off!' I thought there must have been a spider or something on them so I flung them off. He dropped to the ground and had the biggest sniff of my toes. Then he ran into the toy room and said to my husband 'Good boy Daddy! You were right! She does have stinky feet. Give me a high five!'. Did I mention I want a daughter?

Lovely Lentils

My mother used to make us eat lentils and it was so uncool. Nobody I knew ate them and I was always so worried Mum would make them when someone came over and I would just die of embarrassment. I always swore that when I was old enough to feed myself I would never, ever, ever eat lentils. And I didn’t for the longest time. Then I ‘accidentally’ ate a soup of lentils with tomato and vegetables and knew I had to re-create it. Mine has bacon (bacon makes everything better) and is more like a stew but just as yummy I think.

This dish will even tempt those who say they don’t like lentils and will definitely please confirmed lentil eaters. It requires very little prep but takes a while to cook so is the perfect thing to make on a Sunday afternoon for dinner through the week.

This recipe makes enought to serve 4 for lunch with a bit left over.

olive oil
1 onion, finely diced
3 rashers bacon, roughly chopped
2 cloves crushed garlic
1 tin tomatoes
2 cups green lentils
3-4 cups water or stock (use low or unsalted as the bacon is salty)
1 medium zucchini, diced
8 medium button mushrooms, diced
chopped parsley
pepper

Fry the onion in oil until soft. Add bacon and fry a minute or two. Stir in garlic and lentils and stir until lentils are covered in oil. Add tomatoes and about a cup of the water or stock. Bring to boil, then cover and simmer, stirring occasionally. Add more water as the lentils cook as they absorb a lot. After an hour of simmering, add zucchini and mushrooms and return to simmer. You’ll need to taste the lentils to make sure they are soft, but after about 1 ½ hours, they should be done. Test for seasoning – you’ll want to add pepper and stir through chopped parsley.
As a variation, you could add some cumin or other spice and substitute the parsley with coriander.

My Drive to Work

I live in a beautiful place. But it's far away from everything. Really far. I wouldn't mind but it's really far from my work. And I go there five days a week. And back. In peak hour.

Luckily, the first twenty minutes or so are through a national park. So I get to drive through this :

And see things like this :

And then I hit the highway. And it looks like this :



So far so good. But that soon turns to this :

And then finally this :

But I don't mind. Because after an hour and a half (if I'm lucky), I get one of these :

Maxi skim mocha, just one small scoop of chocolate. Thanks for asking.







If Not Yummy Mummy, Then Who?

I read somewhere recently that the reign of the Yummy Mummy is coming to an end. Although I never actually met one of these divine creatures (not being one myself), I saw them. Everywhere. In my pre-natal classes. In the hospital ward. At the baby clinic. At mothers group. In the mall. At the park. In my nightmares. And they made me feel really, really bad about myself. I felt bad that I couldn't wear maternity hipster skinny jeans - believe me, I wanted to. I felt bad I wasn't rich. I felt bad I didn't have time to wash my hair. Oh, there were days when I was strong enough to snicker about the fact that grown women with children were actually calling themselves 'Yummy Mummies'. But mostly I felt bad. And that made me mad. I had spent my teens and twenties feeling a bit too fat, a bit too ugly, a bit too 'last year' and what I loved most about my thirties was not worrying about that stuff anymore - unless I read a magazine, visited the Clinique counter at DJs or entered a nightclub (as if!). I was overjoyed when I fell pregnant. 'Does my gut stick out in this dress?' 'Why, yes it does. And it's divine.' And then along came Yummy Mummy. Am I sorry to see her go? Hell, no.

But I am a little nervous about who will replace her. Who will we aspire to be next? CEO Mummy, Organic Eco-Warrior Mummy (please no), Olympian Mummy, Playboy Bunny Mummy? As women tend to be the ones who chose our own ridiculous benchmarks, why don't we go easy on ourselves this time and pick someone who we can be better than, or at the very least who we can get close to. Here's my vote.

I love Britney.

Baby No More

On the eve of Jarvy's fourth birthday ...

Me : I'm so sad I'm not going to have a baby anymore.
Jarvy : Okay. I won't grow up.
Me : How can you not grow up?
Jarvy : You could stop giving me vegetables.

I Confess Again

Once I started writing this one, I realised there were a few bonus mini-confessions in there so I hope it's not too shocking for anyone.

The first time I went to Uni, back in the early nineties, I had no choice but to do a Creative Arts degree. This was because I didn't get high enough marks to get into anything else (mini-confession number one). If we're being completely honest, I actually only got in on the second round of offers because enough people graciously declined their spot (mini-confession number two). So Mum decided she'd ignore the finer details and pretend I'd actually qualified to start a degree. She was elated and I enrolled.

Because I can't draw, paint, sculpt or anything else remotely creative (is that a mini-confession?), my major was creative writing. It was so incredibly painful. I'm not a great writer and really lack inspiration at the best of times. Also, the class was filled with mature age students who were doing it as a hobby and the classroom was miles off campus. So yeah, it wasn't really the exciting experience I had expected Uni life to be.

One morning as I got to the train station, I looked at the $10 I had for train fare and lunch and made a life-altering decision. I left the station, went to the pub, ordered a schooner of cider and watched Young and the Restless on the pub tv. This unfortunately became a bit of a habit (mini-confessions three and four - one for using Mum's money to sit in the pub when she thought I was at Uni and one for admitting I watched Young and the Restless).

I did go to classes occasionally, and eventually we got a poetry assignment. Ugh. Inevitable, but none the less, disgusting. Poetry. Don't read it, can't write it, don't get it. I was in a bit of a state. Anyway, as luck would have it, one of the barmaids at the pub was a budding poet and kindly offered to write me some poems to submit. She even typed them up for me. Given my aversion for all things poetic, I neglected to read them, turned them in and forgot all about them (mini-confession five - cheating!).

The next week, our tutor called a few people up to read their poems and I didn't expect any of mine (allegedly) to make the cut. After half a dozen poems, the tutor asked everyone what they thought and said he felt they were all shallow and dull. Great poetry, he explained, was born of great emotion. To my horror, he called me up to read one of mine. I don't remember the poem word for word but it was about a motorbike, a tree, a blood-soaked helmet, a broken heart and an unborn child. I think there were a few suicidal thoughts in there as well. Unbeknownst to me, my barmaid friend had lost her one true love in a bike accident while heavily pregnant. Maybe. I never did ask her about it.

Anyway, while this was certainly not the reason for the end of my first foray into teriary education, it was definitely the catalyst. And here comes the big confession. My mum wanted me to go to Uni sooo much. I knew she would be heartbroken if I left and I was even a little nervous that she would force me to stay even if it meant chaining me to a desk and standing guard outside the classroom. So I dropped out but I didn't tell her. For a few weeks, I left home with my backpack, went straight to the pub, drank cider and watched Young and the Restless. Then I got a job, fessed up to Mum, she yelled at me and cried. For days. Then we made up. Then I eventually went back to Uni to get a real degree (kind of - possible confession fodder right there) and we all lived happily ever after.

What's On The Menu Tonight?

I really enjoy cooking, but to be honest, I don't have to cook often and I really only have to cook things I feel like making or eating. The boys and husband eat before I get home from work on weekdays. I'm not much of a dinner eater so I generally make a salad or heat up soup or something.

But on the weekends, I cook a lot. Breakfast, lunch and dinner if the boys want it. And I usually make meals for the week. And I bake. And I bake. And I bake.

So anyway, I am lucky enough to avoid the grind of cooking that many other women (people?) have to endure. Which is just as well. In our house, we have a lot of tastes going on. I don't think I could handle doing this every day :

Nachos 'Fletcher Style' - grilled corn chips, melted cheese, pasta sauce - never salsa! - and sour cream.

Nachos 'a la Jarvy' - corn chips and cheese. Not heated, not melted, no sauce, no cream.

That kids eating habits deserve a blog post of their own. A very short one!

My Favourite - lebanese bread, hommus, warm bulghur pilaf, tabbouli. I try to have these these things on hand at all times. I could eat this every day.

Shane's dinner. BBQ Wings, bacon ranch dip (buttermilk and sour cream), coleslaw - never store bought, always with lemon.

And that is a typical night in our house. Four meals. Painful but luckily not too difficult. I only have to do it twice a week.

Please note - my children do not often eat corn chips and cheese. We understand nachos is a 'sometimes' food. Thank you. Yes, these are iPhone photos. Thank you.

As If ...

Did anyone think this was what motherhood would be like?

I did. And now I know. It's not.

Cherry Walnut Chew Chews

I have recently had an unhealthy craving for glace cherries. The red ones. Maybe I'm feeling guilty about all the American recipes I've been making so I looked on the google machine and found this recipe. It seemed like exactly what I wanted (and the name is too cute). I swapped the dates in the recipe for glace cherries (but I reckon dates would be pretty good too) and it was awesome! Chewy (the edges are amazing) and buttery with little bursts of sweet from the cherries. Just so good.

Chew Chews
1 cup SR flour
1 cup caster sugar
1 egg
110 g butter, melted
1 cup glace cherries, chopped in halves
1 cup walnuts, roughly crushed

Preheat oven to 180. Grease a shallow 30 x 20cm pan and line bottom with foil. Mix flour, sugar, egg and butter until combined. Stir in cherries and nuts. Press ino pan - make sure you go right up to the edges. Bake until well-browned, about 20 mins. Cool in pan - it will crumble if you take it out before it's cold. Cut into squares. Sit down. Eat.

Mella's Caramel Apple Dumplings

I first ate these years ago and it's one of those desserts you think about from time to time for no reason. I actually think about desserts a lot. Anyway, I'd kind of forgotten about it but I was looking through Mum's recipe binder the other day, found the recipe and came straight home and made it. Three weekends in a row.

Dough
2 cups self raising flour
2 tbsp sugar
120g butter, cubed
4 tbs water

3 apples

Sauce
60g butter
1 1/2 cups brown sugar
2 tbsp golden syrup
2 1/4 cups water

Preaheat oven to 180C. Lightly butter a pie dish or baking dish.
Mix flour and sugar. Rub butter in (I use my fingers) until mix resembles breadcrumbs. Add water and knead to a smooth dough.
Peel, core and quarter apples.
Divide the dough into 12 small balls. Flatten each one as much as you can and wrap each piece of apple in a piece of dough. I guess a rolling pin would work but I find it easy to do it in my palm and then you can work the dough around the apple. This sounds like a lot more work than it really is. It doesn't really matter if there are little bits of apple peaking out.
Fit the apples snugly into your buttered dish.
Meanwhile, put all sauce ingredients into a saucepan, stir over medium heat to dissolve sugar, then bring to the boil.
Pour the sauce over the apples. It will seem like there's going to be too much sauce, but trust me and use it all. Unless you don't like sweet deliciousness. Bake about 30 mins until the tops are golden and the sauce is bubbling.
I really think this is best served straight out of the oven with whipped cream or ice cream but my family will eat it cold from the fridge.

Jackhammer Day

My husband sometimes works with a jackhammer. Then he has a headache when he gets home and says I couldn't imagine what it's like to have a jackhammer slamming in your ears all day. I say it must be terrible but I don't think too much about it. I never work with jackhammers.

At 6am today Jarvis wouldn't let Fletch borrow his Ninja Turtle undies so Fletch screamed. Then Jarvis screamed. Then I screamed. Then we all screamed. Then I went to work.
At 7.30am one of the girls at work sat in my office and told me the longest story about something I didn't care about. In my head I was still screaming. And I wanted coffee.
At 8am two of my staff wanted me to referee an argument they were having. I imagined they were cockatoos screeching at each other. We didn't work it out.
At 9am my phone started ringing. And ringing. And ringing. It didn't stop.
At 10am kindy rang and said my husband couldn't make it to 'Making Things with Daddy' and maybe I could come so my baby didn't feel abandoned. The activity was pieces of wood and hammers. And 30 toddlers. And their dads. And it didn't stop until midday. I had to go back to work. I wanted to go shopping.
At 1pm I had a meeting. Everyone talked a lot. About nothing. For 2 hours. I talked a lot about nothing too.
At 3pm I did a farewell speech for someone I don't like. Everyone laughed too loud. I smiled so much my face hurt.
At 4.30pm I got in the car and sat in it for a really long time. I was moving. It just didn't feel like it.
At 6pm I served dinner. My husband wasn't hungry. The boys said they didn't like it. Jarvis remembered he wanted bikkies. I ate a sausage on a roll with onions, jalapenos and ranch dressing and wished I was American. Or at least, in America.
At 7pm I had a shower with the boys. They like the echoes in the shower when you yell.
Today was a jackhammer day.

Diet

Monday 3rd October 9am - I started a diet today. I have started a diet almost every Monday for the last 20 years, but I have a really good feeling about this one. I’m even thinking of calling it a lifestyle change instead of a diet because it’s really about being healthy, isn’t it? And weight loss would be an added bonus? (I’m struggling a little bit with that but it’s early days yet). So my mindset today is that I’ll change the way I eat to be healthy, not because I really want to wear skinny jeans. But I really, really, really want to wear skinny jeans.
What’s my plan? It’s simple and obvious. Eat less, move more. No more Celebrity Slim (but how yummy is the cookies and cream shake?), cabbage soup, Atkins, South Beach, food combining, fasting, Zone, cookie diet, Dr Hay, grapefruit, Israeli Army, colonic irrigation (sorry, but I’m just keeping it real), fat free, Medifast, Pritikin, Scarsdale, VLC or Weight Watchers. Actually, to be fair to Weight Watchers I have lost about a hundred kilos with them. That’s right. 100kg. How did I do that? I joined up and lost about 10kg every year for 10 years.
So I’m going to eat more fruit, pack my lunch, use the stairs at work and stop eating cake. I am positive this is going to change my life.

Monday 3rd October 5pm … Oops.

Moving On

When we first moved into this house, I had very mixed feelings. We moved in a rush and really only took it because there was nothing else in the area. We also knew it would probably only be available for a year and that wasn't ideal. I eventually decided to take it on the proviso that we could move again to somewhere I liked after six months.

But day by day, it started growing on me. Six months came and went and I said it was because I couldn't be bothered packing and moving again. Then spring came and we knew if we had to move again in the new year as expected, we really needed to find something soon as houses in our area are in huge demand in the summer. I looked at a few places and passed up a gorgeous house a stone's throw from the beach. Because of the expense of moving. Allegedly.

Then, a fortnight ago, the agent called and asked if we wanted to sign a lease for another six months and I said absolutely. I wanted to spend the summer here and that would take us through to March or so then I could find my dream house. And I was secretly happy. I asked him to let me know when we could sign the papers.

Yesterday, I had some friends over and as I showed them around, it hit me. I was in absolute love with this house. While I was putting the kids shoes on so we could take our guests down to the creek in our yard (we have a slight snake issue ... nothing major but we have a 'shoe rule' for the backyard) I got an email from the agent. Yay! The lease is ready. Except not. We got our notice. The owner is moving back sooner than expected. We've got til January but with the summer rush here, we can't afford to wait. I was supposed to host Christmas here. I planted veggies last week.

While I sat in shock pondering 'house karma', our four year old visitor ran up and said he and Jarvis had found a snake. I thought it was probably wishful thinking on his part becuase despite our recent episode, it's not really snake season yet. Nevertheless, I went down into the yard, shoeless, and there was indeed a snake. Jarvis told me not to worry, it was just a python, he'd patted it and it hadn't bitten him. "See Mum, no bites". I had a small heart attack. Our reptile loving pre-teen neighbour came over to scare it away and found two more. He asked me for a bag and a rope because one was something he hadn't really seen before and he wanted to catch it. It was a brown snake, not unheard of around here but not at all welcome in my yard, especially with Jarvy's snake-patting habit.

It was like the snake came to tell me the house wasn't the right one for us so I felt better about having to move. We haven't had a full summer here yet and I'm not sure I can survive the reptile invasion. I looked at two houses today. We're going to be okay.

Update on Last Week's Confession

So, I found Justine on Facebook. Should I friend request her? She might say 'Jodi who?' Or she might still hate me for being so shallow all those years ago. Or she might tell me her parents own Krispy Kreme and invite me around for a visit. I'd definitely go.

I Heart ALDI - Please Don't Judge Me

I decided before I had Fletch that I would definitely be a disposable nappy user. But it was going to be Huggies. And only Huggies. Every week when I was pregnant, I would add a packet to my groceries in preparation for his birth. The cashiers at Coles would whisper to me 'you should buy the ALDI nappies'. As if! I would never, ever, ever put anything from ALDI on my precious newborn's bottom and besides, I had never set foot in an ALDI store anyway.

At our first (and only as it turns out, but maybe a story for another time) prenatal class, the nurse recommended ALDI nappies. Um, no.

The sister at the baby clinic recommended ALDI nappies. Um, no again.
The girls at Mothers Group recommended ALDI nappies. What is wrong with everyone?
My girlfriends recommended ALDI nappies. (Blocking ears) la la la
I learnt to drown everyone out when the talk turned to ALDI nappies, and I spent most of my husband's pay that first year on Huggies. And I was happy. And Fletch's bottom was happy.
Shortly after Fletch's first birthday, with Jarvy's birth mere months away, I was faced with the financial implications of buying two boxes of Huggies every week and it made me very nervous. I decided to give ALDI one chance. I was sure they'd fail me but that would give Husband time to look for a second job.
I'll never pretend the ALDI nappies are as quilted and soft as Huggies but they are very, very, very good. And we have never looked back. Jarvy even wore them as a newborn - hopefully he never finds out that I favoured Fletch's bottom. Given that they are half the price, I would venture to say they are better than Huggies. And the ALDI wipes? Heaven.

Anyway, to get to the point, for the longest time I only ever bought nappies and wipes there and didn't even glance at anything else. Then one day I really needed peanut butter and didn't really want to go to Coles when I was already in ALDI so I tried the ALDI brand, and it changed my life. Gradually, I added little bits and pieces and I can honestly say, every single ALDI product we have tried has become my family's favourite. I now do almost half my weekly shop there. I must admit I don't often buy their meat or fresh produce, but I am more of a butcher/greengrocer shopper. They look okay though, and cheap, cheap, cheap.

Here's the list of ALDI items we can't live without :

Mamia wipes - we might be out of nappies, but I still use a ton of wipes for some reason?
peanut butter
raspberry Jam
Scotch Finger biscuits (my boys won't eat the Arnott's ones)
Cavallo biscuits (trust me, eat them)
chocolate (European chocolate for $3 a block!)
chicken crackers (waaaay less salty than others)
pasta sauce
brekky juice
paper towels (the best ever)
yoghurt
cheese slices
frozen strudel
pizza bases (in the bread aisle, you may never order pizza again)
baking staples (sugar, flour etc)
school snacks - tiny teddies, muesli bars etc
juice poppers

I do pick up other things from time to time but these are the things I can't live without. And neither can you. It's not about money, it's about filling your cupboards with great stuff. Did I mention Cavallo biscuits?

Tiramisu

I love anything coffee flavoured. Coffee ice cream, coffee cake, coffee (obviously), and tiramisu of course. I do like the cake version but I prefer it as a trifle. However, I generally have huge trifle issues. No jelly, ever. No soggy bits. Eat as soon as possible after assembly and I can't bring myself to eat a trifle someone else has made. I don't know why but it makes me sweat even thinking about it. I'm pretty much the same with tiramisu so the recipe I give here is made my way but you could soak the biscuits more or leave it overnight. Your choice.

I make the traditional raw egg version and it really is the best thing. If eating raw egg creeps you out, stop reading now. This recipe makes enough for 6 generous serves, but probably should be served to 8 (or 10)! It is a very simple and forgiving recipe so I'm never precise but will give you the approximates I use. Feel free to experiment. It will still be awesome!

1 pkt Savioardi sponges
1 cup strong coffee
big slurp of coffee liqueur (3 tbsp?)

200 - 250g mascarpone, depending on the package size you can get
2 eggs, separated
1/2 cup caster sugar
more coffee liqueur
200 mls thickened cream, whipped

cocoa

With a hand mixer, whip egg whites til foamy and gradually add about 2 tbsp caster sugar. Beat until glossy.
In another bowl, beat remaining sugar with egg yolks until fluffy, pale and doubled in volume.
Beat mascarpone into yolks and add liqueur to taste.
Fold whites gently into yolk mixture.
Finally, fold whipped cream in.
Taste. Taste again. Taste again. Panic that you won't have enough mixture to make the dessert.
In a shallow bowl, mix coffee and liqueur.
Dip Savioardi into coffee - soak them for a second if you want. I don't.
Add a layer of Savioardi to your serving bowl - the one I use is about 20cm and 8cm deep. It takes 3 layers.
Add a third of your filling and gently smooth.
Continue until everything is used, finishing with filling.
You can eat it straight away like I do, or refirgerate it overnight.
Just before serving, dust liberally with cocoa.

Let's have a closer look :

Really simple, really yum.

My Garden

I've never had a garden before. We lived in houses when I was growing up but I never really noticed the gardens. I've lived in flats for the last 20 years and have been lucky to keep a pot plant alive.

We moved into this house in January this year and it has more garden than you could ever want. Nobody had lived there for a while and it was a pretty hot and harsh summer, so it was a bit sparse but we weeded, pulled up dead stuff and watered and watered and watered. Winter came and everything was so lovely and green but I'm not a gardener and didn't really know what was planted there.

This spring has been awesome. Every day, something new appears. It's a bit of a hodge podge but I really love it.

We have these :

And these :

And some of these :

And tons of these (I love them) :

And we also have one of these :

Yes, that's my porch roof. Yes, I sit under it every day. Yes, that's my lounge room right through those doors. Yes, my kids leave the doors open every time they go out. Yes, it's September. Yes, snakes are supposed to be hibernating.

We might move back to a flat this summer. Still deciding.

Philoperous

My boys love Harry Potter and Jarvy's favourite book is the Philoperous (philosophers) Stone so you can imagine my delight when I realised he was a bit of a Philoperous himself!

Me : What is the meaning of life?
Jarvy : Huh?
Me : Why are we alive?
Jarvy : Because nobody killed us yet.

Me : If a tree falls in a forest and there is nobody to hear it, does it make a sound?
Jarvy : Mum, ask me serious questions.

Me : Which comes first, the chicken or the egg?
Jarvy : Ummmm ... the Chicken.
Me : But how did the chicken get there?
Jarvy : It walked of course.

My boy is certainly a deep thinker.

The Christmas Layby. Never Again.

I have always been most organised with my Christmas preparations. I keep an eye out through the year for the perfect gifts for my family and friends. I’ve always finished shopping by September and usually have everything wrapped by October – I buy cards and wrapping in the New Year sales. I keep spreadsheets for shopping and referencing previous gifts.

This hasn’t happened the last few years as I’ve had the two children (instead of one or none!) and last year I even had to send the husband out on Christmas Eve as I had forgotten so many things. The gift wrap did not match and it all made me feel very itchy. I vowed it could never happen again.

Last year started off well. In June, the major stores all had their mid-year sales and offered Christmas lay-bys. I’d never noticed these before but they seemed just the thing for me. Do all your shopping in one go, have six months to pay for it and not have to store everything at home.

So I organised a babysitter and headed off with my marked catalogues. Just like every other person on the planet apparently. The stores were chaotic, the good stuff was sold out (the cynic in me wondered if it ever existed), the staff were rude and frazzled and the lay-by lines were loooong. But I persevered and filled a trolley for November birthdays, stocking fillers and tons of other stuff. And then I waited in line. For a really long time. Luckily, that made my fervour for the Christmas lay-by cool down enough to realise that not everyone I know would really want a Christmas gift from Big W. Let alone from the Big W Mid-Year Sale-a-Thon. So by the time I reached the check-out, my trolley was almost empty.

A few days later, when the trauma wore off, I felt slightly smug that I had at least a portion of my shopping done, and someone else was storing it for me. All I had to do now was make my fortnightly payment. And do the rest (the majority) of my Christmas shopping – but I was a bit in denial about that.

But that was in June. Then in mid-October and I only had $8.00 left to pay. I couldn’t figure out how to stretch that out over 5 more fortnights, so it looked like I would be storing the junk after all. Why junk? Well, in June Ben-10 and Batman were the heroes of the day. By Christmas, they were dead to us. So I essentially had a trolley load of unusable DVDs, pyjamas, underwear and books. And I still had to do the rest of the shopping.

Not sure what this year's plan of attack will be ... am I thinking about this too early?

I Confess ...

Not sure if I'm enough of a bad-ass to make this a regular feature, but we'll see how I go.

A couple of the blogs I browse puport to be 'Confessional'. Ooooh, juicy. Or not. I'm not going to out them (they're awesome) but when I think of confessions I don't think about Oklahoma sunrises, Frito-smelling dog paws or the cutest two-year old you ever met.

Before you get excited, I won't be confessing anything that will ruin my marriage or send me to the slammer but I do have a few things I need to get of my chest. It's all about closure baby.

Many, many years ago, we had a milk bar near where I lived. Teenagers went there after the movies for milkshakes and sometimes, if we were lucky, we bought hot chips after Brownies meetings. What I remember the most though, was the endless glass-fronted cabinet full of lollies. We would walk up and down and choose one of those, one of those, one of those and they would go into a little brown bag. Lollies used to be two for a cent, so I'm guessing twenty cents would have filled one of those little bags and lasted me all afternoon. Were lollies bigger then or was my mouth much, much smaller? There were also bigger white bags but I realised even then that I would never be the recipient of a white bag full of lollies. It would have made my head explode.

Anyway, around the same time we had a girl at our school, who I will call Justine - partly because of the Duggar reference I am about to make but mostly because it was her name. Now, obviously, Justine was not a Duggar. It was the late 70s - Michelle was still a cheerleader and Jim-Bob was just a young Christian looking for love. But Justine could have been a Duggar : super long plait, Liberty print smocks, sensible sandals, weird. And on top of the Duggar similarities, she smelled like wee. A lot.

But (and here's where the story heats up) while looking like a Duggar and smelling like a nappy, Justine arrived at school several times a week carrying a bag of lollies from the afore-mentioned store. Not the brown bag, the white one. Full. In the morning.

I'm not sure how the next bit happened but somehow I had to ask her why she always had the lollies, how much they cost etc. And she told me that her parents owned the shop and she lived there. Lived there! And then she said I could come over after school that day and have as many lollies as I wanted. I was in, no matter what it cost in social-standing.

I could barely wait for school to finish and as we walked from school through the shopping centre I was dreaming of what I would eat first and if I might be able to take some home, and maybe whether I could fill a bath tub with cobbers and float in it. I know that Justine was talking to me but I couldn't tell you what she was saying.

When we got to the shop, she walked past it and I thought we must be going in some secret entrance round the back but she kept walking. I asked her why we weren't going in and she told me she didn't really live there, she stole coins from her mum's purse most mornings and bought the lollies.

I stood there, in the middle of the Homer St afternoon rush, flicked my Farrah Fawcett fringe, turned and walked away without a word.

And I've felt awful ever since.

If this is the lamest confession you've ever heard, I would suggest you stop reading my blog asap as there's plenty more where this came from!

Lashes

I wasn't sure if Fletch was cute enough when he was a toddler, so I made him wear false eyelashes.

I didn't really. These are his. He certainly doesn't get them from me.

School Holidays - YAY

School's out. And I have a week off. I haven't been this excited about school holidays since ... well, since I was at school. I had a week off last holidays but we went on a massive road trip so it was pretty hectic. This week, we have nothing on. Except swimming lessons. Every day. An hour away. In peak hour. But except for that - nothing.

I get to spend time with him :

And him :

Wait. Sorry. I mean these guys :



It's just that when I look at them, I still see babies. It was only five minutes ago, wasn't it?

But babies, toddlers, boys or teenagers (that's what they think they are), I can't wait to do nothing with them for the next ten days. Except swimming lessons. Every day. An hour away. In peak hour.