New Favourite

I started today feeling weary to my core. I’ve got a dumb cold making me feel miserable, my back/legs is/are still stupidly constantly sore, I had a stack of work to do and a whole new never-done-anything-like-it-before project happening mid-week. Throw into that the manic Monday Mum’s taxi gymnastics run 500 times for 3 different children and I was really really struggling. As all of the kids are now in bed (well, except for Felix who’s hanging with his mates online listening to really bad music) I can say: I may have the lead story tomorrow even though some very important person strung me along all day and still didn’t end up granting me an interview; I got AWESOME feedback on my materials for the never-done-anything-like-it-before project; I got four loads of washing done AND sorted AND put away; and we had the most incredibly good (if I might say so myself) lasagne for dinner. Funny isn’t it. The hardest of days ended up being awesome. Go figure.

Anyway, some more awesome, the first via the mighty Blackbird staring down Sandy:

That whole marching band ‘THING’? NOTHING like that exists in Australia. It’s awesome. In a completely dorky kinda way.

And this via Dooce:



Still waters

Yesterday I had a little jaunt into the city to listen to the head of the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change (have I told you lately how much I love my job?) talk about what’s happening around the world as we head to a low carbon future. (Sidetrack: did you know that the Kyoto Protocol ends at the end of this year? That the Kyoto Protocol II is being negotiated in Doha next month or that Australia has still not said whether it will sign it?)

As I got off the bus and walked up to the Lowy Institute the city was humming with workers heading out to get some lunch. It hit me full force that I really am not a part of that scene anymore. So many pencil skirts. Lots of pretty shoes. And suits.  Older, greying men with spreading girths versus a younger generation in gorgeous thick cotton collared shirts and suits tailored to within an inch of their seam allowance.

I slowed, catching snippets of conversation “It’s just not the right letter to send”, “I know about it because she put it in an email to Linda” and remembered being that ensconced in a business. Sure, I had my own pencil skirt on and a face full of make-up and yes, my head was full of facts I’d crammed about carbon trading and climate change so I wasn’t that far removed from these people but I felt different. Once I got back to my office (ie home), the gear was off, the face paint removed and there was a brief lie down (my back is almost back to its worst).

I adore my job, it came at a time my brain wasn’t working as it should and my stress was off the scale. But I battled through the panic and self-doubt and can appreciate it has been the best thing that could have happened. It is just the right amount of work in terms of hours (a five day fortnight), I am learning so much, it challenges my brain, it hones my craft, my deadlines are essentially immediate so I don’t have things hanging over my head or time to procrastinate  and most importantly it is a complete disconnect from my day to day life. I don’t have to commute, I can still work when my back is busted (on my “floor office” involving a yoga mat, pile of pillows and heat packs as required), there’s no sharing a manky work kitchen and I can interview big important people without a skerric of makeup on while in my tracky-dacks.

It’s been a rough year in the allconsuming house – as most years seem to be – but it appears the waters of my life have indeed calmed. You guys have stood at the ready, rallied as I fell, willed me back to my feet. My life is a crazy stress-addled one but I’m doing OK. Thought I should let you know. And say thanks.






media watch

So last night I knew a couple of friends were going to be on Media Watch. For overseas readers Media Watch is a weekly 1/2hr program which analyses media in Australia. If you are a journalist you do not want to be on Media Watch. I remember quite soon after leaving uni a classmate of mine was featured after covering an aeroplane crash with the line, “It’s an all too familiar story, planes go up, dead bodies come down”. He now works on 60 Minutes in the US so it didn’t totally destroy his career.

I knew those friends were going to be on it because I told them not to do it. That nothing good comes from being on Media Watch. They basically hang you out to dry. Granted it is often warranted – sloppy journalism deserves to be outed at any chance. But what was their angle going to be on blogging and most importantly why were they doing a story on it in the first place?

I felt sick for what could possibly be to come for them as I heard the intro music. Condescension? Ridicule? And then almost lost my breakfast lunch and tea as my head and voice filled the screen.

why hello there

The video of the segment can be watched or the transcript read here.

I’m still not sure what the point of it was, for Media Watch it was pretty beige. A shot across the bow that bloggers are now on its radar? Who knows. The voice-overs were horribly condescending but apart from that we all walked away relatively unscathed.

I will say though, I was quoted saying my unique hits were “around 20,000” which at the time they were, fluctuating between 17,500 to 21,000 over a 3 month period at the time of the 2GB interview. After the last few months of not blogging virtually every day of the week at the moment it’s sitting on 13,000.


So there you have it.



One pan roasted chicken and potatoes

Thursday’s radio spot saw me veer away from the sweets (quelle horror!) to show a steady course to one of my go-to one pan roasts. The big tip here is to have a rare moment of organisation when you buy your chicken pieces. Throw them in a snap-lock bag with the marinade before poping them in the freezer. It means on the night you’re going to have it all you need do is defrost the chicken, toss with the potatoes and roast. As my friend Beth says, BANG.

dinner winner


One pot wonder

  • 1kg chicken pieces (drumsticks, wings, pieces that are on the bone)
  • one lemon, cut into chunks
  • few lugs olive oil
  • a handful mix of fresh herbs (eg tarragon, sage, parsley, thyme)
  • 4 garlic cloves, slightly crushed but skins still on
  • one onion, cut into chunks
  • heaped dessert spoon of dijon mustard
  • good pinch of salt and a healthy grind of pepper
  • 6 potatoes, cut into wedges
  1. Combine the chicken with the marinade in a bowl or large snap-lock back and combine thoroughly
  2. Marinate for a long as you’ve got – ideally a couple of hours at least
  3. Preheat your oven to 180C
  4. Tip the chicken pieces and potatoes into a baking dish and toss together, add a few more lugs of olive oil if everything’s not getting nicely coated with the marinade. You could probably sprinkle over some more salt and pepper here as well.
  5. Bake for about an hour or until everything is nice and golden with some crispy bits and charred bits and basically a pan of ridiculous goodness.


New Favourite

This week I’ve been laid low – I think it is thyroid exhaustion – felled by four manic weeks of school holidays and weekends away and compressed working weeks. I’ve had to sleep during the day three times, despite getting decent nights sleep. I figure at least now I can see it, realise what it is and just cut myself some slack. And by slack I mean filthy bathrooms, thick dust and substandard dinner offerings.

Anyway, I’ve had Fun as a New Favourite before, a song and clip I still adore. Eden has been buffeted by life and the last few months have seen wave after wave dump on her and her family. I love her so hard and yet we’ve barely scratched the surface of our friendship. It’s just the kinda gal she is.  She posted this song on her blawg today and well, it spoke to me too.



Carry on
Well I woke up to the sound of silence
The cars were cutting like knives in a fist fight
And I found you with a bottle of wine
Your head in the curtains
And heart like the fourth of July

You swore and said
We are not
We are not shining stars
This I know
Cause I never said we are

Though I’ve never been through hell like that
I’ve closed enough windows
To know you can never look back

If you’re lost and alone
Or you’re sinking like a stone
Carry on
May your past be the sound
Of your feet upon the ground
Carry on

Carry on, carry on

So I met up with some friends
At the edge of the night
At a bar off 75
And we talked and talked
About how our parents will die
All our neighbours and wives
[ Lyrics from: ]
But I like to think
I can cheat it all
To make up for the times I’ve been cheated on
And it’s nice to know
When I was left for dead
I was found and now I don’t roam these streets
I am not the ghost you want of me

If you’re lost and alone
Or you’re sinking like a stone
Carry on
May your past be the sound
Of your feet upon the ground
Carry on

My head is on fire
But my legs are fine
Cause after all they are mine
Lay your clothes down on the floor
Close the door
Hold the phone
Show me how
No one’s ever gonna stop us now

Cause we are
We are shining stars
We are invincible
We are who we are
On our darkest day
When we’re miles away
So we’ll come
We will find our way home

If you’re lost and alone
Or you’re sinking like a stone
Carry on
May your past be the sound
Of your feet upon the ground
Carry on