Back to rouse up Glamorouse after two weeks with NO INTERNET ACCESS. Have almost caught up on Kim’s postings which are, as ever, insightful, thought-provoking, intelligent and deep, deep, deep – especially the hornbag one about Robbie Williams: girl, I hope you had the grace to blush for the sake of your 26 week incubus.
There’s no better way to make a holiday feel longer than it really is than to spend it with your three children, and I mean that in the nicest possible way, I really do. I can feel a list coming on; let’s make it Holiday Highlights:
- The professor brought me coffee in bed EVERY morning, because I didn’t have to get up first
- Most days I also got breakfast
- Some days, when the kids slept in, I got even more, which was strangely relaxing and confirms that Mother Nature knew what she was doing when she invented recreational sex (ahead of red wine and Prozac)
- I got to read the newspapers for fun
- Some days I did BOTH the Sudoku AND the cryptic crossword in the Herald
- We went to the zoo – man, how I love the zoo
- My Dad came for an unplanned vist, which could have been manic but was actually really nice
- The two littlies saw their first ever “big movie” – Madagascar – and have ever since been entertaining us big people with lemur-style duets of “I like to move it move it”
- We packed picnic lunches and took them to the park
- The first time we picnicked my gorgeous nearly-three boy suddenly realised that instead of our usual playground routine, the holidays meant unlimited access to rice cakes, the slide AND his mum and came strolling over to me (and the rice cakes) with a huge smile, saying “It’s a perfect day, mummy”
So now I’m back on line, but technical problems (the Prof’s lost the cable) mean that I don’t have access to my work connection so I feel free to play around with the Glamorouse and have been trying to work out the image uploading by putting a pic on my profile box.
Ah, which pic to choose? The one I really wanted was the shrouded in steam pic Kim’s photographer took when Kim was being a glamorous (no E) foodie magazine editor, because shrouded in steam, or fog, or thick black plastic, is my best angle these days. Can’t find that one though (kim, help?) so went for the next best thing – a favourite pic from (ahem) some years back…
I think it’s transparently obvious to anyone reading this blog – myself included – that one of us is meaningfully engaging the world in all its large and small parts, and the other is just wishing her own large parts could fit back into those jeans.
PS – I should point out that I was secretly six weeks pregnant with my first child when this shot was taken and while I didn’t want to drink the wine, it would have been too obvious to others that I was pregnant if I’d just sat there with it … so when the Pea Princess misses out on her university scholarship by 1 mark we can safely trace the fault back to this gestational moment.
Friday night went off hitch free. (See my post about procrastinating) I’d even call it a raging success considering I walked through the door at 5.15 and nothing was prepared or ready. Not bad eh.
My thanks to a colleague who used this phrase earlier today when we were talking about Australia’s appalling performance in regards to Timor and us basically trying to shaft them out of what is legally theirs. There is a great article in The Monthly on this – and what a bully we’re being in regards to oil and gas fields in the Timor Sea that it just made me feel so ashamed to be Australian.
- as we face the most antiquated puritanical, draconian IR reforms – all in the name of progress of course,
- as we adjust to a life that decisions made on behalf of us by our government now mean we are not safe in any public place on any public transport or at any large event or venue,
- as we try to work out how to right the wrongs of the past and basically show some humanity and common human decency to nations that struggle basically because of the way they have been treated and ruled (by people or parties inflicted or imposed upon them or supported or kept there by us,
I say, in the worlds of my colleague…
Stop the world I want to get off.
Tomorrow night about 25 people are coming to dinner. A Christmas in July when the food we eat in 36 degree eat in December is actually enjoyable and seasonally appropriate.
It seemed like such a good idea at the time – when I asked them all that is. But of course, then there is reality.
I have quite a penchant for list writing. No, not a bread, milk, butter list but strategic, thought out, precision lists. My shopping lists are broken down to dry goods, dairy, refrigerated goods, vegetables, fruit, entertaining, cleaning etc. My shopping lists are good.
When I entertain, the lists can be daunting for some, but I draw great comfort merely from their existence. This is important as unless I’m doing drugs (which I don’t out of pure geek-based fear I will get the bad batch and die a horrible frothing-at-the-mouth-soiling-my-pants kinda death) they rarely get adhered to.
So tomorrow’s the night – by tonight I’m meant to have made a pumpkin pinenut cheesecake w/ spicy pumpkin relish, quince relish and onion marmalade (to go with the ham), have sliced the potatoes for potato dauphinios and topped and tailed the beans for my beans tossed in breadcrumbs and garlic.
I haven’t done any of that. I haven’t even done the shopping to pretend I’m getting these things underway. Instead, I watched SVU and have channel flicked for the better part of an hour and a half. All the while thinking to myself, man I’m thirsty and gee I’m buggered. I should go to bed. I haven’t done those either.
So you see, my ability to procrastinate is impressive, even when its procrastinating out of something I love doing – cooking and entertaining. God knows what we’ll eat tomorrow night as I have a homeopath appt in the morning, then an appt w/ my psychiatrist on the other side of the city, then a trip home, a trip back to the city for an interview about Oscar at the Daily Tele and then home to start preparing for dinner.
I do like a last minute adrenalin rush, but what with the incubus and all, even I’m impressed with this one.
When I feel like a salad sandwich for lunch, actually order one and then… enjoy it.