Of Christmases past

The Day is almost upon me and once again I'm not as organised as I'd like. Poor Miss B has been sick for two days and is beside herself that she'll be sick for Christmas.

Miss B 's worries got me thinking about some of the Christmas disasters we've had over the years. Looking back is always good for a laugh, but at the time it really did seem overwhelming. Here are just a couple of the standouts.

Waking up Christmas morning to  find two children with chickenpox ( I'm sure that wasn't on my wish list). Did you know that you can use a paste made of baking soda and water to help stop the itching? And soaking in a bath with a cup full of baking soda is soothing too. This is a life saver when every chemist/drug store is closed. Yes we live in a place where EVERYTHING is closed on Christmas.

Travelling to our wonderful friend's house for a much anticipated Christmas luau-themed celebration, only to have one of our Misses, who will remain nameless, throw such a tantrum (loud and prolonged) that we had to leave. I did feel quite sorry for myself as I sat down to my Christmas dinner of toast that night.

But the worst by far... heading off to the family gathering only to realise, due to some communication problem (that would be The Bloke not listening!) no-one had bought his mother present. Eek!

Whenever I remember that awful moment of realisation, I know it won't get worse than that (was that me tempting fate there?)

So onwards and upwards, to Christmas and beyond...

It's almost Christmas

I adore Christmas. Every year I plan a lavish decorating theme and a feast of epic proportion.  And although I never quite live up to this fantasy inside my mind, I don't lose hope that this will be the year I sail calmly through the season,  wafting baubles and home made mince tarts in my perfectly coiffured wake.

The reality is that there is limited time, energy, and money to create the Christmas of my dreams. So this year I have decided to start preparations early.

To address the limited finances, I have been shopping for decorations at the charity shop. These el cheapo decorations, coupled with a little spray paint and a ton of glitter provide loads of decorative options for very little cash.

I also scored three sets of lights and a little bit of Christmas-themed crockery, which never goes amiss.

Here are a few of my refurbished Christmas finds...

 I found three of these pine cone candles. They were an ugly worn matt gold which had rubbed off most of the cone tips. A sad looking trio. The before photo was lost due to a camera glitch, so you'll have to take my word for how un-festival they looked.

Off to Bunnings I went and purchased silver spray paint ($10.95) and silver glitter ($4 for three vials of super sparkly glitter).

Now I have three beautiful sparkling candles. Note they are for decoration only, not to be lit.

I found several bags of pre-loved decorations for $3, and gave them a spray with silver and a good sprinkle of glitter. Then I used my trusty hot glue gun to attach several different shaped ones to a traditional flax woven kite ( Maori for bag).

My best find was three of these faux pine wreaths for $1 each.

A little unfurling of the pine stems...

A quick wrap with last year's tinsel...

and a few more of the sprayed and glittered decorations glued into place...

And voila...

Instant Christmas cheer...

Home again

Well, I've actually been home for a few weeks now. But time did that funny thing, where one day it's October and the next day it's almost Christmas. I just lost a month and don't even know where it went.

Of course being nearly Christmas is no hardship because I am a girl who loves that Merry Season.

But before we plunge headlong into the Christmas spirit, let me tell you a bit about Spain.

It was everything I had dreamed it would be...

October was a great month to go. The bulk of the tourists come in Aug and Sept, so things are a little less busy.

The weather was fine and sunny with an occasional thunder storm to keep it fresh. I missed a heat wave up to 35° C the week before I arrived.

I ate fantastic food and drank smooth as silk red wine.

Swam in the Mediterranean sea

Toured 10th century Arabian baths

Visited a 13th century cathedral and more churches than I can recall

Celebrated with the locals at the Binisalem wine festival.

Climbed mountain tracks and wondered streets that have been walked by other people just like me for hundreds of years.

And of course had long reminiscences with my friend of 30 years.

                                     

                                                  Now lets get stuck into Christmas...

Unreasonable expectations.

Well I've been fairly slack at posting over the last few weeks. We have been trying to find a good concrete layer to create our driveway and matching garden paths. I thought the hardest thing would be finding the money for this job, the last of the really big expenses. Little did I know.

 I have contacted four concreters.

The first one advertises extensively on the radio. I had no response to the email contact and it was two days before I heard back from my phone message. The person came a few days later to have a look and then said they would send another someone around for a proper measure up and quote. That was a month ago and we haven't seen or heard from them since.

The second one looked promising, calling me within 5 minutes of my online query. It did take them over 3 weeks to send a quote but at least they sent one.

The third one (a personal recommendation from a friend) told me he was busy when I called, but to txt him my phone number and he'd call me back that night. It has been a week and I'm still waiting for a call.

The fourth one has never responded to my attempts to contact them.

What is this? Aren't we just struggling up from a global recession? Yet clearly there is so much concrete work required in the area that my driveway, (a not insignificant amount of money here) is undesirable.

Or am I one of those women who repel tradesmen by expecting the job I specified at the price agreed and in a reasonable time frame. And not only that but a good job done too.

I once asked the plumber to install an outside tap for the garden hose at the corner of our house. Thinking that was a fairly done deal I popped out to do some food shopping. When I came home I was astounded to see the tap installed in the middle of the external wall rather than the corner that we had agreed upon. The plumber just couldn't understand why I was cross. He'd decided to put it there because the water pipe ran down that bit, so it was easier than putting on an extension to the place I'd wanted. Even when I pointed out that I now had to climb through the dirt and plants to turn the hose on and off, he still didn't get it.

If I'm the one paying the bill, why shouldn't I get what I want? Why can't I have what works best for me rather than what's easiest for the tradesman? Am I unreasonable?

Setting an example

Sometimes a parent can feel like they're fighting an uphill battle, while carrying a sack of weights on their back! You try to show your kids how to manage life, how to care for their things so they last, how to save their pocket money for something worthwhile rather than a purchase at the $2 shop on a toy that lasts a day, how to eat to stay healthy,  how to keep promises, how to put things back where they belong. And you wonder if any of it is getting through.

Just when you think you are a complete and utter failure as a parent.  When the kids won't stop fighting, their rooms are a mess, and getting them to empty the dishwasher needs a degree of negotiation skill far superior to the one you possess. When the homework is late, the dinner burned and you're so frazzled you put the car keys away in the fridge, a miracle occurs...

Miss A and Miss B disappear into the rat nest that is Miss B's boudoir. We are banned from entering. three hours later (with no screaming and very little shouting coming from said room), they emerge. The Bloke and I are duly escorted, blindfolded, to the unveiling of a SPOTLESS and TIDY room. Once I picked myself up off the floor, I heaped praise upon them and gave myself a surreptitious pat on the back.

How to live in the midst of chaos

For many people a renovation takes a finite length of time, a finite amount of money, and a finite chunk of their mental wellbeing. They move out for a few weeks and then move back into a completed project. But for the rest of us, we live in the midst of the build, sometimes for years, trying to remember where things have been rehomed to now and remembering that sharing your home all day with the builders requires forethought and tact on both sides.

My renovation seems to have lasted years, well actually it has been years. It would be easy to loose heart when you're surrounded by sawdust, wood chips, bare walls and half finished plumbing, but I've found the best thing is to carry on as if the surrounding chaos doesn't exist.

While our house was without walls, we still threw our children birthday parties at home. While the kitchen sat unattached to the walls with the bench just resting on top of the cabinets and no kickboards, our family entertained for christmas. While the new deck was just framing we threw a BBQ.

The trick is to live life while not becoming complacent.  It's remarkably easy to get used to half done things, like a bathroom with a working shower and loo, but only waterproofing on the floor.

At times we have had to speak sternly to ourselves to get some momentum back. That bathroom is now tiled, but it took a year to get around to it.
The skirting in our family bathroom is the only thing unfinished, it's nailed in place but unfilled and only undercoated, and it's been like that for THREE YEARS!

Part of the reason for this blog is to get some kind of accountability going that will guilt me into getting the house finished...100%...finally.

The fine art of holding on and letting go

I'm an expert at letting things go, as long as they aren't mine.

I've come to this realisation over the last few weeks during The Great Cull. I've had no problem tossing things, or giving them away.
The children's things, out they go.
The Bloke's things, gone.
Strange things I swear I've never seen before (where did they come from..), out, out, out.
My stuff...whoa wait a minute, I might need that. I know I haven't needed it in the last 5 years, but I might need it next week.

Why is it so hard to declutter, to move away from possessiveness towards possessions?

Why is it so difficult to admit that if something hasn't seen the light of day this century, then you don't need it.

Take the recent wardrobe cull. I've learnt the lessons mentally, in fact I already knew them.

Don't keep your pre baby clothes, it just makes you feel fatter.
If it doesn't fit you properly, you won't ever wear it no matter if the colour is divine.
Uncomfortable shoes will always be uncomfortable.
That fantastic puff skirt from the 80's will come back into fashion, but it might be 20 years,  will you really wear it again?
polyester is like cheap wine, good for a quick thrill but the consequences can be very unflattering, pass it on.

I know these lessons, and yet I falter. Why is that.

It may be that our possessions are more than mere space-invaders. They hold our memories, and it's those moments that come upon you out of the blue, when you  re-discover an item, that is the addictive nature of modern day hoarders.

Like the time you cleaned out the linen closet and you found, way at the back, the first double bedspread you bought with your mum when you were 16. You remember the shop, and how much money it cost, and how your mum taught you to look for the best deal, but to make it a quality purchase too. You remember how proud you felt putting it on your 'grown-up' bed , and how your mum smiled.  That memory might not have surfaced for years, if ever, had that bed cover not been tucked away in the cupboard so it's not the things, but the emotions attached to the things that I find hard to let go.

I think the key lies in the quote below. And I guess it's okay to keep on to that bedspread until I figure out another way to hold that memory.

All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on. - Havelock Ellis

For the love of Button

At Easter our family expanded to include a little (and I mean tiny) bundle of fluff who we named Button.  She is a Sydney Silky with a bit of Bichon and a dab of poodle. The result is a cute (as a button) fluffy, tail-wagging, shoe-chewing, ball of enthusiastic energy.

When button wags her tail, the whole lower half gets right into the action. Nothing can be left lying within her reach. So far we have lost 3 pairs of shoes, a set of iPod ear phones, innumerable pairs of underwear ( the kids ones I try not to leave mine lying about!), and, well lets just say the devastation has been trying at times.

Button is thrilled to see me every time I appear, whether I've been gone all day, or 5 minutes. I read a facebook post saying all parents of teenagers should have a dog so that someone will be glad to see them...and it's true.

Yesterday Button had to go to the vet for desexing. She has not coped well and has been miserable all day. Not a bark, not a tail wag, just big sad eyes watching me. She's hardly moved and I have been so worried about her.

It is amazing how a dog can become so much a part of your life that you don't want to think what it would be like without them.

Button will be fine, and desexing your dog dramatically lowers their risk of certain types of cancer, so I know it is in her best interests. But it's hard to watch a loved one be so uncomfortable.

Here's to a quick recovery and return to her funny delightful little self.

A happier Button

Vegetable garden

The rain stayed away for a bit this weekend, so I decided to tackle some of the embarrassingly weed-ridden garden.

This garden sits just outside the kitchen window and would be perfect as a vege garden.

I spend the first day digging out the old roses and have a few scars to show for it.
Next the vast array of weeds had to exit. Strangely Miss A and Miss B weren't keen to participate in the weed pulling, but Button thought is was a grest idea and enthusiastically applied herself to the task.

A field trip to Bunnings found us choosing  seedlings for the newly weed-free space. Miss B was keen to help choose which ones we would grow.

The next day a final weeding before planting the new vegetables.

Luckily the soil is good where we live so hopefully, if the snails don't massacre them, we should have some ready by Spring.

                                                                       Before

Button helping

Almost done

Completed

Lessons from the closet

The Great Cull continues and I've spent the last few days, well actually almost a week, cleaning out and reorganizing my wardrobe. I'm lucky enough to have a fairly large space and although I do have to share it with The Bloke, it might be fair to say he doesn't get half, more like one rail and some shelves. The clean out has taken much longer than anticipated and still isn't finished.  But I have learnt some truths from the ongoing experience.

1. Regarding your jewlery box, if you haven't seen the mate of your favourite earring
(when you were 19) for the last 10 years, it's time to throw it out.

2. Never keep clip on earings, they are enormously uncomfortable and never stay on without sacrificing blood flow to your lobes.

3. Don't keep your pre-baby clothes, they're just there to depress you and they're now out of  fashion.

4.  Don't keep your old tights to use as plant ties in the garden. That's why God invented
string. PLUS in the summer the tights will disappear not to be found again til next winter  
 when you've given up looking and used string anyway.

5. Buying all black socks so you always have a matched pair is a great idea, but don' forget
to match the sock length as well, or you'll look a bit eccentric.

6. Never ever buy clothes that would fit if you just lost 3kilos. They hang there reminding
you of your failure.

7. Never throw out your man's tatty old t-shirt that has a hole in the back because it might
be his favorite Stones concert shirt from the 80's and he won't be pleased.

That feels like enough lessons for this week. Hopefully I'll get the wardrobe finished this weekend and be able to post some pretty end result pictures.


See you in a few days.

Half done day

It's one of those days. You know the ones that just wander along at their own speed and despite the determined plans you started the day with, nothing is achieved. The washing is half-done, the paperwork at the office is half-done, the kids homework is slightly supervised, the wardrobe is only half-cleaned out. Well there is really only one thing to do on this kind of a day, tuck in the children and retire to bed with a glass of wine, a handful of chocolate buttons and a book.

white chocolate cake

It's been a beautiful winter's day here. The sun shone all day and it was almost warm. I took the kids and the dog to the beach and they are just nicely exhausted.

It felt like a baking day to me. I wanted to make something new and so turned to my current crop of library books. The Birthday Cake Book by Fiona Cairns had a nice looking recipe for a blackberry, lavender rose, and white chocolate cake for which I had almost all the ingredients except for the blackberries -coz it's winter, and the lavendar-rose water- coz who actually has that kind of stuff? So really I just made a white chocolate cake.

The recipe is straight forward, but a little more time consuming than I usually have time for ( god bless lazy Saturday afternoons).

This recipe makes two 20cm cakes which are joined together with blackcurrent compote , or in my case jam, then the whole is smothered in white chocolate ganache.

Chocolate ganache and I are not friends. I usually swap it out for another icing, but I felt a determination burning within to finally master this runny topping...I didn't succeed. Grrrrrr.

Still I managed a somewhat thickened icing that didn't immediately run off the cake to lie in puddles on the serving plate. I think I'll have to stick with butter cream frosting.

The cake itself was lovely and really tasted white chocolatey.  It was almost crisp on a the outside with a dryer ( but still soft) crumb inside.

This is my version of the recipe.

180g butter ( I used salted...yes be horrified)
200g white chocolate buttons (the original recipe called for white Swiss chocolate, but I'm not that flash so buttons it was).
200ml whole milk
280g self raising flour
1 tsp baking powder
250g fine sugar (castor sugar)
3 eggs lightly beaten
1tsp vanilla extract

Heat the butter, milk, and chocolate together in a saucepan. Leave to cool a little.
Sift the flour and baking powder together into a large bowl. Add the sugar, then the eggs and mix. Once combined, add the chocolate mixture and the vanilla. Mix together and pour between to 20cm round cake tins ( I greased the sides and lined the bottom).

Bake for 35-45 minutes. When you think they are baked through. Check by inserting a skewer or a knife into the centre, if it comes out clean, the cake is done. Don't use the spring back method, when you gently press your finger into the centre of the cake and if it springs back it's done, because the outer is crispier than a regular cake, you end up cracking the shell instead.

This is the finished cake. I tried to deflect from the ganache disaster by making it pink and adding some cherries and coconut.

It really does need the fruit jam in between the layers it adds a little tart to the sweetness.

Spain

I'm going to Spain. Woohoo. I am beyond excited. I love to travel, I'll pretty much go anywhere that involves a passport. But Spain is so exotic. The history, the architecture, the food, the sangria, oh my!

The countdown is on, only 45 sleeps to go...

A sunflower purse

I've finished my first embroidery project.  It uses two stitches, chain-stitch and colonial knots. The design was sketched straight onto the fabric and three colours were used,  yellow for the sunflower petals,  then two shades of dark green for the centre. It is an ideal first project, easy but with the satisfaction of finishing something that doesn't take four months!

I've started my next project, a small pillow decorated with nine felt circles overstitched with decorative bright DMC stranded thread.

This design gives room to incorporate as many different stitches as you want to. A great way to practice all my new learning.

While I'm on a crafty subject. I went to a wool shop in Milford a couple of days ago. It's called Crafty Knitwits in Kitchener road. If you've ever thought about launching your creative spirit this would be the place to do it. No-one could leave this place without a little something to be going on with. Plus inside is a quaintly stylish café with great food served on mismatched china with linen napkins. Just georgous. They have knitting and crochet classes for the uninitiated too.

Feel free to leave a comment about any other really great crafting places you've come across.

Miss B

For some reason, after the success of clearing out Miss A's room, I envisioned a similar experience in Miss B's space. But that would just be too easy wouldn't it?

Miss B is known in the family as our little rat baby. Not because she has a love of cheese either. No, Miss B likes to gather her possessions around her and burrow down into the mess. She has inherited her father's hoarder gene, and loathes throwing out or passing on anything.

So it was fairly foolish to take on her room while she was still in the house. She has an answer and a plan for everything in her room.

It goes a bit like this,

"B, why do you have a draw full of empty toilet rolls?"
"No mum don't throw those out, I need them"

"B, why is there a pile of rocks in the corner here?"
"Mum, leave them there,  I need those rocks"

"B, this doesn't fit you anymore"
"No mum no, that's my most favourite dress in the whole world!"

and on it went.

Every move I made was countered. Every item I removed from her room made its way back in. A few hours in it became clear that I was wasting my time and energy.

I'll need a different plan to deal with Miss B's room. If you have any suggestions,  please leave a comment.

Meanwhile, I arrived at work today to this stunning view. It's not a bad view is it?

Regaining control

Have you ever noticed that after a bout of illness you become enthused to put the world in order? It's a need to regain control and show that you're back at the helm of life. So once I was feet-back-on-the-floor and upright, a continuation of the great cull seemed in order.

But where to start? For a real feeling of control this had to be something much bigger than the kitchen junk draw. The Bloke must have seen the fanatical light in my eye because he bolted and wasn't seen again until the evening.

What space really annoyed me? What room made me rush to shut the door when unexpected visitors arrived? What room broke most of the health and safety laws of this land?  Of course,  I thought eyeing Miss A sharply.
"There's no escape for you today", I whispered under my breath.
"Why are you staring at me Mum?" Said Miss A looking up from the T.V.
"No reason love", I replied. "But I do need your help with a little job"...



Ten hours of hard labour, several meltdowns (Miss A, not me), and  three trips to the Red Cross charity shop later, I feel completely back in control!

Before...

And the after...

 

Now all I need is a wardrobe surround and a door!