Warm Toes, Warm Heart

I had a visit from the wonderful Ms K yesterday. As she came through the door she handled me a parcel and announced it was my present. Now I was expecting a small part for a plumbing repair and somehow just assumed that she (or one of her sons) had wrapped in many layers of newspaper a la pass the parcel. By the time I had started unwrapping I realised I was way off and this was a REAL present - yes I have a wonderful beanie, bed slippers and gauntlets. Oh dance dance dance :-) And yes she made them all herself - and had even blogged them (not that I had a clue they were coming my way. Oh I am so blessed - with friends and beautiful things to keep me warm. Sigh - happy womblette :-)

Umbrella and a Handkerchief

"Never leave home without an umbrella and a handkerchief I always say". I looked at Nan and sighed - I had been hearing this all my life. Inwardly I rolled my eyes but respect stopped me from actually performing the act. I did love her but we were so different.

Nan was so very organised, so very neat, always prepared for whatever came her way, so very proper. Not that I begrudged that. This woman had been born at the end of the first World War, survived the Depression, volunteered during the second World War, raised four children alone after the death of her husband early in their marriage and taken in three others at various times. Without her 'umbrella and handkerchief' attitude, she would never have made it.

But me. Well I am not her. I have not walked her path. Her lessons are valuable but they are not gospel. I don't mind getting wet every now and then, or having to use a tissue. I don't wear a hat to go grocery shopping. And my hair is not always perfect. I am freer than Nan in the life that I live and in the circumstances that have affected me.

Would my generation be able to cope with rations and privations and making do and going without? Would we be able to cope with the hardships of the wars and a depression. How would we get by without the support of welfare in the tough times? My Nan and her generation did all of that and more.

I leave an umbrella and a neatly folded handkerchief on the table near the front door. I don't carry them as I leave the house but as I do go through my day, I do try and carry their meaning.

Writer's Prompts Daily

As Time Goes By

You can't turn back the clock. But you can wind it up again.

Bonnie Prudden

Image: "Summer Time" by Lance Ramoth

It's Always Darkest ....

He stood tall in the darkness. He had a job to do - not everyone's idea of a job but, hell, it takes all kinds to make a world. He watched the world below - everything was in shades of black and grey. Not that it would stay that way - he thought for some philosophical theory that matched his mood, accepting the moment, accepting change but it wouldn't come to him.

He wondered why so many were afraid of the dark - was it fear of the unknown, or the loss of control of not being able to see as they can in the light, was it religious or even primal. He couldn't decide. He didn't mind the dark - it meant that peaceful and quiet save for a crying baby sometimes, or the scream of a cat - was it mating or fighting - he could never tell.

He shifted himself to get more comfortable. He watched others who called the night their friend - there was the baker who always seemed to be in a hurry to get to work, or was always running late. There was the policeman who strolled around, swinging his truncheon as he went. The night soil man who works furtively in the alleys. There was always one or two faces he didn't know - travelers, or people up to no good he guessed. Almost always he only saw men.

He looked at the horizon and saw the gleam of silver that separated the darkness from the impending day. No more time for thinking, he had a job to do.

Writer's Daily Prompts

The Chicken Update (and Beef and Pork)

Since deciding some months ago to only buy free range (preferably organic) chicken my consumption has dropped from a few times a week to maybe once a month. Two reasons for this - the product is harder to source, and I have decided to pay a fair price for the product (about double what cage birds cost) so it is less easy to fit in the budget.

So, I have been buying Lilydale chicken on the occasions that I do buy it but some further research has made me pause again. Their stocking rate comply with the FREPA standards (not the "new and improved" free range standards that give the birds an area not much bigger than their body size to stand on - still better than cage standards but not my idea of "free range") but it has been pointed out by my ever wise food guru (that would be you Graham) that the amount of manure produced is unsustainable for the land they are grazing on.

So now I have written to them to find out what they do with it. And chicken is again off the menu until I work it out. On the same subject, I have found a producer that fits into my Food Mile goals that is now selling their product in Coffs - I will give them a call tomorrow re stocking rates and manure to see if they are a viable alternative.

All bacon and ham purchases are also on hold until I can find a supplier that can guarantee that the pork is not a subsidized imported product - I think I have a lead there. And my beef is still grown on a farm 6 km down the road. And no I don't eat a lot of meat anymore.

PS - I know the Isa Brown is an egg chook not a meat chook but it was so pretty lol

In The Eye of The Beholder

The first question I ask myself when something doesn't seem to be beautiful is why do I think it's not beautiful. And very shortly you discover there is no reason.

John Cage

Image: "broken" by TomasGarcia

Girl Power!?!

So we have a new PM. What does it mean?

Well for a start she is a woman so part of me jumps for joy with "go girl". Another part of me asks if that isn't patronizing (at least a little bit). Being a woman will affect her leadership because it affects us, her voters. Between the existing focus on her hair styles, and a woman making it in a blokes world her actions will be judged not only on their "rightness" but on how her gender imposes on it. And while Tony Abbott can be seen as the "boxer" having a swipe at Kevin Rudd, he can't he seen lobbing punches at a "girl".

Now I think it was bleeding obvious that Kev had had his run - got us through the financial crisis in a sterling manner but his micro-management style sucked and he had lost too much credibility to ever be able to claw back his popularity (two thumbs up to Tony Abbot for his Machiavellian tactics in that regard - it was a masterpiece of political theatre watching that one happen - not that I am sure Machiavelli is popular with the voters but that is another story) so change needed to happen for the sake of the ALP having any chance at the election.

On a policy level? Well we will just have to wait and see on that one. Will it encourage me to vote Labor - possibly not.

We live in interesting times .... and I am so glad that politics is one of my favorite hobbies lol

The Cinderella in All of Us?

She looked at herself in the mirror - and wasn't sure she recognized the woman in front of her. Gone were the jeans and t-shirts. Gone were the Blundies. Gone was the hair tied back from her hair in a pony tail.

She stood there are looked at the woman with her hair in an up-do, studded with diamantes. Her smile was broad and her lips shimmered in a pink, just a few shades deeper than they usually appeared. Her dress was pink like her lips and full-length. It floated and swished like she was underwater. Her feet were gently featured in silver sandals that added another 3 inches to her height.

She did a half-twirl while never losing contact with her reflection. Her legs looked great, she knew that - especially as the skirt brushed against them. Her breasts were heavy dew drops that had yet to succum to gravity and the dress hugged them like a lover. Her neck was gently sun-kissed from all that work outside and displayed the sparkles that hung at its base.

She was beautiful. Had she always been? She wasn't sure. She grabbed her purse and headed for the door. What would tonight bring, she wasn't sure but it had to be the start of something.

Writer's Prompts Daily

Reality Bites

People become vegetarians for a number of reasons including those of health, religion and ethics. I went through a stage that lasted for a couple of years when I was a teen and had just visited a meat works - and another when I was working with the lovelies and their food hygiene standards (and use of lemon pepper) were questionable. Actually I only eat meat about once a week these days - and yes my reasons are both ethical and financial.

What annoys me about omnivores is those who don't acknowledge that their meat comes from a living animal. That their cut is a piece of muscle, or an organ. And the bones are from the skeletal structure of the beast. I now adopt the belief that "if you can't kill eat, don't eat it" which isn't to say we should all be out there with guns cattle rustling, more of an acknowledgement that something must die for that steak to hit the plate - and there is no point denying it or pretending otherwise.

The first time I went roo shooting I was on spotlight duty. The shots were clean and we collected a number of carcasses that night. The animals were used as dog food (it was a farm after all). What annoyed me was when one of the yahoos that was trying to impress me with his he-man status grabbed one of the joeys that were in one of the mothers who had been shot. He grabbed it by the tail, swung it and bashed it against the ute. I have no problem with killing the joey - letting it live defeated the purpose - but the callousness he displayed, the joy he displayed in making me cringe had nothing to do with anything apart from him being a pig (no offence to pigs).

If something is to die so that we may live, we should at least acknowledge the sacrifice and treat it with respect.

Writer's Prompts Daily

Green Soup x 2

Following the joy of the orange soup I have now been investigating green - and I have come up with two alternatives that are making my tastebuds zing.

Two Pea Soup
1 packet of green split peas cooked in vege stock until some are mushy and some are still whole.
1kg peas, blanched and pureed.
Combine and season to taste. I did originally intend to add extra spices and flavorings (and I might still do that next time) but the combination of the earthy nutiness of the split peas, combined with the fresh sweetness of the fresh peas .... divine!

Broccoli Soup
Steamed broccoli pureed and mixed with vege stock until the desired thickness (or thinness is achieved). Add nutmeg and season to taste. Swirl through a little cream or sour cream when serving. I served it with toasted turkish bread.

Can you tell I am in soup-y heaven :-)

Image: "Royal Green" by DemonMathiel

Playing Around

When I submitted my play some weeks ago I was happy with it, but knew I would always be tweaking it to make it "perfect". I was never presumptuous enough to think it might win but I was glad I had met the challenge I set for myself. The Fellowship had advised that only the shortlisted people would be notified due to the volume of entries so I set it free and moved on.

And then on the radio last night I heard them say that the judges were still reading through the submissions and the shortlist would come out sometimes in August.

My heart did a little skip, I was still in with a chance. I laughed at myself. For all of my conversations about "just giving it a go", I did/do have a secret desire (however presumptuous) for success.

Sigh ....

Image: stage" by FriX1981

Curtains and Walls

She wore her bangs long. She wore her bangs so long they were a curtain over her eyes.

We were never sure whether she was didn't want to look out, or didn't want us to look in. I am not sure she could have told us either.

I don't think it worried anyone as such, we just left her alone.

Maybe that was out mistake, leaving her alone.

Every curtain serves a purpose, but every curtain can be opened. Isn't a curtain that is always closed a wall - no matter what it is made of?

Maybe she drew back her bangs for others. Maybe she drew back her bangs when she was alone.

If the eyes are the windows to the soul then I can say I never saw either of hers. And I don't think she saw ours either.

That was out mistake, leaving her alone, behind her curtain.

Writer's Prompts Daily

Only Skin Deep

As we grow old .... the beauty steals inward.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Image: "elderly person" by peppedoubleg

Two Thoughts on Food

First thought: If we import such a huge amount of pork from Canada (some say 85%, others 50%, lets just agree on 'a lot') where is it?

The major supermarkets brand their pork cuts as "Australian" so it isn't their. My reasoning is that it must be in the ham and bacon. Now I have done a random survey over the past few weeks and all of the products I can find are labelled "Made in Australia using local and imported ingredients" (or variations of that). I understand that processing is required to turn pork into ham or bacon and that additional ingredients are required and that, as such, it does comply with our labeling laws but .... I mean take a piece of bacon, remove all the pork (from Canada) and there isn't a whole lot left to be called Australian! Something has gotta give on this one ....

Second thought: I am contemplating food security again. I may be wrong but it is my impression than we have pretty much learnt all we can to maximize production of our conventional crops using techniques and inputs to improve soil, encourage growth, and minimize the impediments of weeds and pests. That isn't to say that all farmers across the world use these techniques, or that they can't be tweaked for future improvements.

As we look to the future, to feed the future global population we will need to move away from "conventional" and into what will be the "new-conventional". This obviously includes the increased reliance on genetically modified food, vertical farming and food substitutes.

On this last point, they have almost perfected fake meat that tastes like chicken - and before we all say yuk and admit that we would never eat that, think about all of the other fake food that we eat - olestra, saccharine, cheese in a can, the list goes on. In fact any prepared food contains ingredients that would never go into the real recipe and we would never choose to eat.

It may be easier to reduce food waste and change our attitude to food but that is too much to ask. I honestly am beginning to think that my generation might be the last that will remember "real food" - I have already ranted about the younger generations (say anyone under 30) not knowing about real milk, what a real tomato tastes like, not knowing how to cook from scratch and how most of them accept GM readily (or with complacency), and all the rest.

The world is a changing and the more I think about it, the less I like this aspect of it.

Room to Read

In my younger years my reading life revolved around the school and local libraries. I remember that at about 10 my diet was mostly The Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew and Trixie Beldon but the school library held a very special collection - Illustrated Classics. These were comic versions (or to use the modern parlance, 'graphic novels') of the Classics.

And I read them all - many, many times over. There was the Scarlet Letter A, Ivanhoe, Jane Eye, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, The Red Badge of Courage, Oliver Twist, The Man in the Iron Mask, Kidnapped,  Last of the Mohicans, David Copperfield, Great Expectations and Tale of Two Cities (I think I became a Dickens babe right there and then) just off the top of my head. I know there was about 30 of them in our library but you get the idea.

I have gone on to read the complete versions of most of them over the years. They gave me an entry into the world of literature in a way that I could understand and without them my life would certainly not have been so rich.

I think of this now as I start the study back up again - I am reading Euripedes Medea today and have Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra, Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights and Tolstoy's Anna Karenina to read or re-read in the next week or so.

If this isn't heaven I am not sure what is - and I know that at least some of my love of literature (as opposed to just reading) began with the Illustrated Classics in the Harvey Primary School's Library. I only hope they are still there and still opening new worlds to the kids of today.

Just Do It

Whatever you are, be a good one.

Abraham Lincoln

Image: "Star" by milk-cream

The Joys Of Being A Woman

All her life she couldn't wait to be a real woman. And by real woman she mean makeup - and especially lipstick. Mrs Stone had one in a long gold case and when you twisted it, a red, round tip rose up to caress her lips. Mrs Stone was a real woman.

She wasn't sure where she would find a lipstick just like Mrs Stone's. She looked in the supermarket but they only had ones in plastic tubes. The colors were tempting - everything from various pinks and purples through to shades of coral and brown. The names were even more tempting: chocolate mousse, melted caramel, romance, French burgundy. All of them brought to her images of summer and sunshine and illicit kisses on moonlit nights. But that was what girls go - and she wanted to be a real woman.

Even if she couldn't find the same gold case as Mrs Stone, she knew she would never settle for anything less than a red bud rising up to touch her lips.

She paid special attention during Health Class when the sports teacher showed them how to apply foundation, eye shadow, eyeliner, mascara, and coloring to her cheeks. She felt like she stopped breathing when she discovered there was a lipstick pencil with which she could plump or thin the shape of her own lips. The teacher asked the students which one piece of makeup should they never be without, that could be worn alone. Apparently the correct answer was mascara but she knew it was lipstick.

A trip into town some months later gave her the opportunity to seek out the department store, with its abundance of makeup and perfume counters. She gazed carefully at them all. She couldn't see the gold tube but she did discover that there is no such thing as "red" - there is brown- red, blue-red, purple-red, orange-red and a million other reds. And then there is gloss and matte, fuller lip or longer lasting.

She already knew that lipsticks were made of wax, oil, alcohol and pigment but the variations of all of these were limitless. And then there were the additional ingredients that added texture or feel or taste. You wouldn't readily eat any of it but ultimately she knew that she would - each time she licked her luscious red lips.

That would be one of may prices she would pay to be a real woman.

Writer's Prompts Daily

Oh What A Night!

Oh what a night - it will go down in history. Okay I can't remember too much of it but that is what it is all about. We all went out to the Top Pub - it was Friday and Thommo had something to celebrate - no idea what it is now - be he shouted a round or two because of it so it must have been good. I have no idea how much I drank - I stopped counting after five jugs - I was going for the record I set the night when I finished school.

Oh what a night! I had got my promotion, and Kelly let me know she was preggers. Okay the second bit knocked me for six to start with but, to hell with it, I would make a great dad - I could teach him how to play cricket and drive and .... well I would be a great dad. I met the boys at the Top Pub like we agreed, I even shouted a few rounds - just beer mind you. Didn't stay for long, I promised Kelly.

Oh what a night - well at least that is what Johnno said when he woke up this morning. I think that was before he realized he had slept on the concrete floor - last night he figured he wouldn't fall out of bed if he slept there - and we were in the lockup. And that was before he realized he would need to call Maureen and ask her to come and bail him out. Me, I can make bail - and have no one to call anyway.

Oh what a night! I was meant to be skipper, that's why I was invited - I mean why else would you invite a sheila to a boys night out - but after the fight my services were "no longer required" as the sergeant said. And I spent the night drinking orange juice too - should have added some vodka and had a night of my own like the guy behind the bar said!

Oh what a night! I hate working Friday nights. The Pub is meant to be the ok but I think the roughies from the Federal are coming up here. So tonight there was only the two fights - I managed one, had to call Snowy in to break up the other, we lost 18 glasses during that one - some were broken in the mellee, one was used as a weapon. I hate cleaning up glass - you always worry about missing a piece. Oh what a night!

Writer's Prompts Daily

Do You Remember?

The original



And 23 years later the beloved Gobbledock is back :-)

Ah how time goes by lol

Guess Who Dropped In For Breakfast?

.... well it would be you wouldn't it! I am so pleased you made it - hope you didn't have any trouble with parking. No, well that is good then.

Now can I get you an apple or orange juice to start with - I squeezed the fruit myself just before you got here. Orange, no problem here you go.

Now we have a few choices in the food department - would you prefer a fruit salad, or a homemade granola with some honey yogurt (yes I made that too). Or if you want something a bit more substantial, I can whip up some blueberry pancakes with mascapone and maple syrup. Or Eggs Benedict. Or I can do a full English fry-up.

Okay I can sit - but would you like a top up of the juice, there is a pot of coffee that is about ready - let me pour you a cup.

Okay I can sit, and do nothing. Can you tell I am nervous? It is the first time I have cooked for you. Oh, and I have toast and jam if you would prefer. Okay, just sitting and drinking my juice with you. Really? We have all day - you don't have other plans. No, it isn't a problem, I just expected ....

So tell me more about you.

Writer's Prompts Daily