Happy Birthday Son #1

He turned 26 today.  My little boy!  We are taking him and his beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend to dinner tonight, but this was his gift from his mum. 

He is growing a beard as he is on campaign for the next few months (election) and they work long, hard hours - no time for shaving and grooming. 

So very proud of my boy/s (both of them) - he is such a fine, upstanding, young man with a generous spirit and amazing sense of community.  He even shared his apple pie!

Happy Birthday Darling.

My little Christmas visitor

It was such a hot day, a hot day following many other hot days.  I had watered the garden early, filling the two big bird baths that sit on my fence outside the dining room window.

Later that morning our neighbours on the other side of this fence, were having a scrap - loud enough to bring my mother-in-law (MIL) from her flat, Mr K from his office and me from my office - to see who was being murdered.  (This incident is a whole new blog post, but I needed to set the scene!)

As we all stood near the fence, eavesdropping, my MIL pointed out with sign language, that in the bird bath was this frog.  We were both thrilled as we have been trying to get frogs in the garden for years.  I don't use any nasty chemicals on my garden and we try and have water for them -  although, we do have to be careful of leaving water around due to mozzies. 

But here he/she was (not sure how to sex a frog!) having a lovely cool down in the water and shade.  He/she stayed there all day, and all night.  By the next day it had gone, not sure where, but I hope its OK and onto larger ponds.

Telstra as a Dating Agency

This picture has absolutely nothing to do with this post, but I can only add pictures from my phone or blog due to Blogger STILL not fixing their known problem about picture icons. 

My lovely Samsung Galaxy 3 died right before Christmas.  Actually, it was the day the world was meant to end, which, clearly it did for my phone.  Off it went to the Telstra shop for a mother board transplant and, so far, it has not rejected its new organ.

When they messaged me, on the phone I got loaned while mine was in the phone hospital, I was very keen to rush in and pick her up.  She had been through a lot and I loved my little phone.

I get to the official Telstra shop in Morley ... and there is a queue of people right out the door!  Oh the injustice!  Mr K assumes that the queue is not meant for people like him so goes and sits at the Tech Desk (this is Telstra, not an i shop so places have names of what they are, it's not a genius corner).  I join the end of the line, out near the chemist and alluringly, the liquor store.  At least I can have drugs and booze while I wait.

As I sigh and roll my eyes and try and glare at the 3 teenage girls behind the counter (who carefully avoid any eye contact with the ever growing line of frustrated people) a man behind me says 'Isn't this just pathetic?'

I am about to agree in a monotone, until I turn around and see the man responsible for the comment.  He is very handsome, with a nice smile, so I make my response much more animated.  I make a funny comment about how 12 year old's are running the world now, and we are all screwed. He laughed. 

For the next 25 minutes, we stood in line, chatting away, inching forward, making mutual observations.  I got to know just about everything I needed to know, stuff that I probably didn't need to know, and passed the time very pleasantly.  Had I not been ..
a) married,
b) had said husband sitting not 10 feet away and
c) not got my phone back yet,
I would have exchanged phone numbers and got him to call me sometime.

So all you single girls, forget the night clubs and rave parties and head off to your local Telstra store and get in line!  You never know what you might find!

PS: As Blogger STILL have not fixed their problem with the picture icon, I can not add the photo of this very handsome man ... sorry!

Nudity.

This is what I have written in my blog planner for today.  Just one word written there.  No notes to help me.  I try and plan my blog posts and when I have an idea, I put it in a calendar. 

But nudity?  What was I thinking? I think I was going to write about how I hate the hot weather and especially hate wearing clothes. 

Bet you all are very glad that blogger have this issue going on ...

Friday, January 04, 2013

The photo upload icon is not appearing for some users on Internet Explorer. We're investigating the issue and will update this post as soon as we have more information.

 

 

 

Dang.  I had some great nude pics to share with you all. :-)

A Shaguar! Oh Behave ;-)

On Mr K's birthday, last year, well really only a week ago, but it was still last year, I asked him what he wanted to do that day.  It was the 28th December (his birthday is a unique day, not because its slap bang in the middle of the Christmas/New Year, but because he shares this day with his father, his uncle, his son#1 girlfriend AND had son#1 been born on his due date instead of running late, there would have been 3 generations of first born males born on the same day.  Some blame me for stuffing up this Guinness Book record, but I blame the child - he was WAY too comfortable in my womb to move)
 
Anyway, enough genealogy and onto the story of Mr K's birthday wish.  It was 38 degrees in the shade this day.  It had been this hot for days - my patience had run thin, I was over playing caterer and all I wanted to do was lay in the pool, or as close by to it, as I could.  Normally, on this day, Mr K would want a little mini party - just 20 or so family/friends over for an 'easy' BBQ.  I dreaded this thought, I really did just want to do nothing, especially nothing to do with food. 
 
But it was his Birthday, and in typical man-reverts-to-little-boy fashion, I had to indulge him in whatever he wanted to do.  So I was suspicious pleasantly surprised when he said he just wanted to go out shopping for the day, and did I want to go to IKEA?  Anyone who knows Mr K, will understand my hesitation - it was obviously a trap - as Mr K would rather spend a month in a Thai prison than go to IKEA. 

All was revealed with the next sentence ...

'I was thinking we could just drop into the Jaguar dealer over near IKEA and just have a little look at the new Jags'

You see, he has given himself a goal.  If our business can make a profit for 6 consecutive months, and reach the target we have set, then his reward is to buy (lease) a Jaguar.  I know, well I think anyway, that the chances of this happening are so slim that even looking at a Jag brochure is being optimistic.  But it was his birthday, and who knows, if he gets really excited about the carrot, then he may just crank up our business and reach his goal.

We did go and see this Jaguar, and got to have a test drive.  I must say, it was very, very nice. I could sure get used to driving about in one of these.  It was fun to choose leather seat colours and dashboard timbers.  To um and ah over the wheel profile, to decide that white was the best colour.  I tuned out with the rest of the sales pitch, and just day dreamed about this beautiful car.

This day must have had an impact.  For Mr K has been so motivated at work, is planning and implementing all sorts of projects to get us in the black, that I would not be surprised to see a Jag in our carport very soon. I hope so, as this is what he drives now ...


(Well I would show you but Blogger is having technical issues with uploading photo's - I will try again later)

No Resolutions - Just a Saying

Last year my mantra, or words to live by was "Do Less Better".  It was a very effective way to keep me focused on what mattered and to make me slow down enough to enjoy life.  Everytime I felt rushed or life was overwhelming I would say to myself 'do less better'.  It really worked.

I have been trying to think of one for this year that is as effective.

It's hard, as my mind has been clouded by Mr K and I working on the principals for our business - 3 or 4 key words that we can share with our staff as their words to live at work by.

The three we have so far are :

Simple
Efficient
Accurate

But when it comes to my own personal one, I am a little stumped.  I said I would make 2013 the Year of Writing, but that is not a mantra. 

But then I saw the post-it note on my monitor and it said 'Show, Don't Tell' and I knew that was it.  This is a writing term that makes you use your words to show what you want to say, not spoon feed the reader.  So more description, more visualisartion, more care with every word.

For my blog, this could also mean taking more pictures which will make my photography better.

It also can stand for my life outside writing.  Show the people I love how much I care instead of just telling them.  Show my staff how things should be done, don't tell.  In other words, lead by actions not just words.

So, in this Year Of Writing I will Show not tell.

Hi Ho Hi Ho Its back to work we Go

Day 2 back in the saddle (oh I wish I was a jillaroo and my office was on the back of a horse) and it feels like the last 11 days never happened.  Like a big blurry nightmare dream!

Well apart from the following evidence:

• The beautiful Potting Bench (pics to follow) my darling Dad made for me that is still sitting on the front veranda with Mr K's tools on top (sorry Dad)
• Red and white table cloths, placemats and napkins washed but un-ironed all over my craft room, fighting for room with left-over wrapping paper, gift tags and ribbons.
• Half a very boozy Christmas cake in a tin on the dresser that I try hard to resist eating for breakfast (seems there is an unwritten rule that Christmas cake for breakfast is ok when you are 2-3 days past the Big Day, but after that you are just a greedy slob - kinda like the speedo's or undies debate)
• Getting to play with my very big surprise gift from Mr K - a zoom and fish eye lens
• Bowls of Quality Street still strategically placed around the house, taunting me, teasing me.
• A giant ham on the bone still taking up valuable fridge space when I need that for salads and fruit.
• 17 beach towels all scattered around the pool (well actually I am exaggerating there.  I washed them all today and folded them and put them back in the towel basket ready for the next guests to all pop over with bathers but no towels!)
• A bottle of Hendricks Gin, hidden in my secret stash, a much prized present from son #1
• Pants that I wore a month ago feeling rather snug, and more alarming, they were stretch!
• Odd things I need to find homes for - lovely gifts, but they need a home

May all my fellow Bloggers, Readers, Family and Friends have their dreams come true in 2013. 

And remember if they don't .... A smooth sea never made a skillful sailor!

So, that was it? 2012

Hello my blog.  I have missed you.  I have stayed away, not because I don't like you (I like you, I do, I really do) but because of a whole swag of excuses very valid reasons.  They don't really matter now, what matters is that I am back.  Here, with you, my sanity saver, my escape from the world, my outlet to express - in fact, I would put you up there with one of my best friends (shh don't tell Strawb)

I spent New Years Eve for 2012 in a melted state, 42.2 degrees - the 8th straight day of temperatures above 37.  If ever there was a time to move to Tasmania, this was it.  I did mange to get a few things done and a few challenges met, these I will tell you about later. 

I don't know if I am disappointed or feel content with the fact that I spent the night with the Two Grumpy Old Men.  I certainly didn't want to go out partying - have never liked that, and like it even less these days.  I was quite content to just have a relaxing evening, even in my own company, as Mr K was complaining that we had spent the last four years not going out on NYE - so I told him to go, go out and do what he wanted.  I really was more than happy with a book on my own.  But he pouted and said he wanted to go out with me.  Silly boy, he knows what an introvert I am.

So Uncle James came over, we got G&T's and got in the pool.  Now isn't that WAY better than making small talk and being with people who bore the tits of you?  The music would be loud, so you can't talk anything meaningful - 'What?  Oh yeah, we had a great Christmas thanks.  You?'  'Oh, you had a Christmas lunch.  Great'.  'Um, made any resolutions?' 'Oh, great, a weight loss program, good luck with that'  and on and on this silly talk goes. 

Nope, not for me.  The three of us had a great conversation - as we normally do. Last night, we were all cheeriness and light and talked about the latest craze of 'Prepping'.  We talked about how we would prepare for the end of civilised order in a world quickly going mad.  How we could feed ourselves when all the shops closed or ran out of food, how we would protect ourselves from looters, where we would escape to when the violence started, how we could set up a new life away from the chaos that would ensue after our society collapses.  Think Mad Max, the one with Tina Turner in it.  (If you have Foxtel, go to the National Geographic channel and watch Doomsday Preppers if you really want
a) a good laugh,
b) some sobering thoughts,
c) entertain the idea that maybe they are onto something
or d) remember your sanity and have a good laugh.

We now have a plan.  Mr K is to get the trailer camper ready with fuel and water and make sure we have a full tool kit.  Uncle James is in charge of weapons and planning the escape route.  I am in charge of feeding them (hey, what's new)  collecting and storing seeds and a way to start a vegetable garden in the desert.

Cheery way to end the year wasn't it?

Hope yours was at least a Happy start to the New Year.

Making Christmas Presents - Chutney

I am feeling rather chuffed with myself that, to date, I have not bought one commercial present - and I am trying hard to keep it that way this year.  We have had a general concensus that no bought presents are to to given or recieved this year.  Only home made ones, or the present of the persons presence!

I don't trust that people want my presense so much, so tonight, I am making chutney as gifts.  The recipe is from the man I secretly want to run away with Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall but only as far as River Cottage.

Here is the link to the original recipe ...

hughs-fig-and-cranberry-christmas-chutney-recipe

Makes 2-4 jars

Ingredients

• 500g onions, chopped
• Scrap of oil
• 1kg diced apples, any will do but try to include some Bramleys
• 500ml cider vinegar (I will use verjuice)
• 400g demerara sugar
• 200g dried figs, diced
• 125g dried cranberries
• Zest and juice of 1 orange
• Generous glass of port
• 5cm piece root ginger, roughly chopped
• 6 cloves (will leave these out as I hate them)
• 12 cardamom pods
• 1 tsp coriander seeds
• 100g walnuts, roughly chopped

Method

1. Start by sweating the onion in a scrap of oil then add the apple. Pour over the vinegar and sugar and and once it's had a good stir and the sugar has dissolved then fun can start.
2. Add the fruits to the pot then after that the orange zest and juice, followed by the port.
3. Next it's time to put together your spices. Tie the ginger, cloves, cardamom pods and coriander seeds in a clean square of muslin and secure with string. Immerse the pouch deep in the simmering chutney and let it bubble away for an hour or so, making sure to stir it regularly so it doesn't catch on the bottom.
4. Add the walnuts and cook for a final 30 minutes. If you can part your chutney and see a little bit of pan on the bottom you are done.
5. Decant the warm chutney into sterlised jars, seal with vinegar-proof lids and allow to cool.

I will post back and show how it went.

Dear Santa ...I wanna poneeee for Christmas!

Not that I would EVER has asked this way, no sirree.  I was brung up right.  I asked nicely and politely .. the first few times.  Then I asked incessantly for weeks and months afterwards.  Then I pretended that I already had a pony - I fed it, talked to it, rode it - which freaked the parents out, and then, one very special 11th birthday, I did indeed get my wish.  It was the most special and exciting and thrilling day of my life.  My very own horse.  I didn't have to share him with the other kids from the riding school, he could come home to live with me, I could talk to and look after a real horse instead of my imaginary one. I was the luckiest eleven year old alive.

We named him Tullie.  Spelt like my name, Jodie. He was a worm ridden, scrawny, barely broken, brumby (we think).  To me, he was like black beauty.  We did so much together, learnt an awful lot (me), had tears and frustrations (him) - but we came to mature into a pretty good team.  Sadly, I lost him way too soon, he got very, very sick and we had to put him to sleep.  I still love that horse, I have never found one to replace him.  I have owned many horses since him, but never one like him. 

My beautiful and kind Tullie

I still yearn for a horse in my life.  It has been a deep desire that is always there, yet circumstances have asked me to shove that desire down deep.  Every now and again, it creeps back up to the surface and I am left with a sadness and emptiness that only the hot breath of a horse's soft muzzle can fill.  I did get to buy a horse property, but can't live there yet.

So, Santa, if you are listening.  This is what I would like for Christmas. Please.  Pretty Please.  I have been such a good girl, all year. 

1. The Business to actually make a profit next year so we can pay off our overdraft, then we can afford to move
2. Mr K's Mum to find her ideal unit in the care facility she wants, so we can move
3. Real Estate to pick up in our area so we can sell our house and move to the horse property
4. Our current (and lovely) tenants to find their own dream house so they are happy to move out
5. To move into my beloved horse property and I will never ask for a single thing.
6. Oh, well, maybe a pony ? !  ?

Got all that Santa?  You the MAN!