Dear $3-bag Sales,

It's all your fault.

See you soon,
Me.



Vintage romper. Love.


Remind-me-which-side-I'm-meant-to-feed-on-next-ring. Awesome.


Oooo....Miso Soup spoons. Or other soups. Ooo.


And here's a close-up on some of the sweet, sweet details of Esky's new-to-her, just-washed quilt.

Hello you, Poppa-roo

For the past week my dad has been down in these parts to explore some business opportunities further. He of course managed to make some time for leisure.

It was comforting to know my pops still...

• plays two bars of the only song he knows every time he sees a piano;
• loves kids...even if they're afraid of him;
• has competition in him...although this trip, in all the games of Zarahemla he played, I don't think he won a single game. Oh wait, in his defence, he did beat an 8-year-old; an 8-year-old that was distracted by a movie playing in the adjacent room who was loaded full of post-tonsil-removal meds. Aw, Dadio. Teasing aside, this scene was a lovely reminder of my father's incredible patience. He would just sit and wait while his opponent watched for 5-10 minutes, then turned back to the board to say, "Is it my turn?" My dad would slowly reply, "Yeees." The same virtue was manifest when we stumbled upon a $3-bag sale at Sallies and he took to the buggy wheel to keep a just-immunised Esky amused.
  
• listens when I talk...and talk...and talk. This trip included some pro bono counselling for my CNP;
• claims all babies look the same. Yup, Esky's grandpa, that sure does look like your, "all-babies-are-the-same-face":
  

It was so nice to have you, Dad. You're a legend.

Blessed Banana Cupcakes

Yesterday I decided the bunch of bananas in the fruit bowl were too ripe for anything but baking.

I read this recipe online, and then whipped up this variation:

Ingredients:

1 cup sugar
2 cups flour

6 overripe Bobby (small) bananas, mashed (which made about 1 cup of mashed banana)
3 mixed range eggs (I recommend using them at room temperature)
1 cap-full vanilla
3 tablespoons mayonnaise
1/2 cup oil
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon cinnamon

Yield: ~15 regular-sized cupcakes

Method:

1. Preheat oven to 180 degrees C.
2. Line muffin tray/s with patty cases.
3. Mix the first list of ingredients in a large bowl.
4. Add all ingredients except baking soda and cinnamon to a separate, medium-sized bowl. Stir together vigorously.
5. Sprinkle baking soda and cinnamon over (4) and stir through.
6. Create a well in the large bowl of dry ingredients and fold in (5). Blend until no dry ingredients are visible.
7. Place approximately two tablespoons of mixture into each patty case.
8. Place trays in centre of oven and bake for 20-25 minutes (remove earlier if on fan bake). Cupcakes should rise to 2cm or so above muffin well's rim to form peaks.
9. Scrape out every sliver of batter from the bowl and devour it.
   
10. Decide the batter is too delicious to rely on dregs alone and remove one of the trays from the oven to extract a now-warm patty case-full of batter. Eat its contents with a spoon.
11. Don't apologise for (9-10).
12. Allow to sit for a few minutes in the tray, then remove cases to cool.
13. Once cool to the touch, frost or dress as you please (or don't). I did (I went with chocolate icing, with sliced almonds on some and chopped nuts on others...and then a few with icing sugar for good measure).
    

Variations

I believe varying a recipe (without getting overexuberant) is the key to cooking happiness - using what you have on-hand without a trip to the sup' is always more satisfying...and exciting. See, when I went to post this, I vaguely recalled posting a banana cupcake recipe before. Sure enough, I have...and it's different.

Some variations you might try:

• If you don't have mayo, replace with another egg and more oil.
• Use brown or raw sugar.
• Try a spoonful of molasses in place of vanilla.
• Add some nutmeg instead of or with the cinnamon.
• Top with a subtle white icing and sprinkle with cinnamon.
• Dust with icing sugar for a quick fix - then you can eat them warm.
• Add buttermilk if you've got it, reduce oil and remove one egg to compensate. Everything is better with buttermilk. Oh, buttermilk.
  
• Replace the oil and egg altogether with a cup of mayo (as per my research recipe).
• Use half a cup wholemeal flour to half a cup white flour, or go all the way dark and heavy.
• Skip the patty cases if you don't keep a stash at home...and use your finished "muffins" to bribe another human into washing the trays.
  

Got some brown bananas? Let me know if you try this one on for size and what variations you sample or invent.


P.S. I gave Esky a little mashed banana - after all, she was looking on from her high chair so sweetly...and I do so like to let her watch me mash the bananas and the smell their aroma. Verdict: She wasn't excited by it, and it spent a lot of time on her lips instead of in her mouth, since she kept poking her tongue in and out.

When it comes to fingernails, short is better

Because they...

• are not high maintenance - time- and money-wise;
• don't break and lead to pain;
  
• are better for playing the piano and guitar;
  
• don't collect grime and make you look like a bum when really you showered an hour ago;
• are allowed on the basketball and netball court;
• don't accidentally scratch other humans;
• don't bend in a way that makes you cringe when you open a soda can;
• make your hands look cooler;
• discourage you from picking at things you shouldn't;
  
• don't make that icky click-clack sound when you drum your fingers on a desk; and
  
• Esky's case, they don't cause you grievous bodily harm.

The only thing I can see going for long nails at this point:

• You could use your pinky nail to grab pesky boogers up your baby's nose.

I welcome you defending your talons, ladies. Men...don't even try - unless you're in a coffin, you shouldn't have those things.

P.S. Avocadoes are yum.

Easily-made Donutty Goodness

a.k.a. Dough-balls

A Samoan sister in our branch verbally passed this recipe on to me during a branch activity. These donuts are uber-straight-forward. They can also be made without purchasing any special ingredients at low cost. Well, I guess they're not really donuts - given the fact that they're balls rather than rings.

The Samoan sister's version recipe:

"Mix some of this (holding up a bag of self-raising flour) with sugar and water, and drop in here (pointing to a pot of oil)". I share this so you get the picture of how easy these can be - I vary the recipe every time, and they haven't been botched yet.

For those who'd like a little more to go on:

1. If you're without a deep-fryer (like me), pour your frying oil of choice into a large pan so that it is 8cm deep (I used a mixture of Canola and Extra Virgin Olive Oil - the latter to add a fruity taste to the donut surface) . Heat over medium.
   
2. Half-fill a bowl with warm water (pick the bowl and volume based on your crowd);
3. Slowly add self-raising flour (make your own if you don't have any) whilst stirring to form a very thick paste. Keep going a wee way past pancake batter. The spoon should stand up on an angle, but the mixture should still be easily spooned and stirred.
   
4. Now add approximately 1 tablespoon of sugar for every cup of flour you've added - more or less to taste.
5. Test the oil's heat by dropping a small amount of your mixture in. The heat is right if the ball of batter floats and lots of bubbles are produced.
   
6. Drop large spoonfuls of batter into the oil. Some balls may need help turning over, but many will turn on their own due to the shift in uncooked batter weight. Cook until medium-brown.
7. Remove balls once they have fried on both sides using a slotted spoon. Drop onto paper towels to cool.
8. Eat them plain, or dress with an icing sugar, vanilla and milk glaze, or roll them in some cinnamon and sugar. The batch pictured has a vanilla glaze and a sprinkling of chopped nuts.
   

FYI:

• This bowl is filled with balls cut in half - as I wanted to be sure all were cooked through with no dough remaining;
  
• I was uncertain if they would still turn out just as grand because I used refrigerated batter that was one week old. I had to throw a couple away that I didn't cook long enough;
• They still tasted fantastic - meaning you can refrigerate the unused batter if required;
• I made a crazy amount of fry bread (self-raising flour and water kneaded and rolled out on a floured board) for dipping in soup a week prior, and I just added sugar to the balance for the donuts - two in one!
  
• This recipe leaves the oil very clean, so once cool, it can be poured back into a container for the next time you need to fry; and
  
• My bowl on a stand is beautiful, isn't it? I grabbed it at $5 from the NEV Sallies a while back.

Mini Movie Reviews: Bulk Hit No 12

Julie & Julia (this one's not so "mini", sorry)
I went to see this with a group of wonderful women late Monday night (after FHE). What an irresistable cast list!

I found the portrayal of Julia Child delicious, but not as delicious as watching actual footage of the lady herself - this appearance on Letterman has to be the best I've found on the interwebs thus far. Meryl Streep is grand, as always, but moreover, the woman she is playing was fascinating, and as a result I relished every scene with her at its centre. I think I could watch the scenes with her sister over and over, and the onion tower is highly entertaining.

Sadly, I found Julie Powell's character in the film utterly unlikeable - surprising - since I'm fond of Amy Adams; and Julie Powell, the woman, seems to have so much going on that should appeal to me. Firstly, she is a blogosphere pioneer, now published author, living the dream! I thought this would be grease to my ambition engine, but sadly, it wasn't. It seemed to me that the on-screen Powell was blogging for all the reasons I can't relate to - boredom; lack of other hobbies; and resentment for her life - and she got a book deal for it. I am not attempting to attack the woman upon whom the character is based, but I am disappointed with the film story's arc. To me the film is about a sulky lady who has all her dreams come true. I do love when she makes a ruined-dinner-angel on her apartment kitchen floor - I can relate to the occasional meltdown - but I detected a disproportionate amount of grief to enjoyment. (Another plus: I am also still marvelling at the evolving nature of film - and the implications for a blog becoming a film. How fascinating that the audience for a large portion of this work read the story in its earliest stages? How interesting that we can still visit the original pages online, as they sit there, dated 2002? Normally an author's conception and creation of a work is so private, but this, well, it really subverts so many conventions!) Secondly, maybe it was the mood I was in, but I found myself feeling sorry for her husband. I shouldn't, right? He's getting all of this wonderful food served up, he's lucky! Yet I couldn't help but find his character no more than an empty fixture, in place merely for developing Adams' screen identity. This really bugged me. Julie Powell, in reality, has to be the kind of woman I'd love to yarn with - what she's accomplished is incredible, creative, and merit-worthy. Julie Powell, in the movie, is the kind of woman I want to slap and say, "Quit whinging, and ask your husband about his day!"

I would still say, "Go see it!" to anyone who asks, because it's engaging, and any homage to the quirky Julia Child is worth a gander. And like I say, it could've been my mood. For another opinion, one of the other ladies from our viewing session wrote a great review.
*I think it would have to be a very soft slap. Slapping is mean, hear me, Esky?

Fame
Well, it's pretty unfortunate yet befitting that this film's title rhymes with "lame". I attempted to defend it as Haki and I walked to the car after seeing it...but really, you can't. If you watch it on DVD it won't be all bad, but it wasn't worth seeing in-cinema. I give almost every musical a chance (example exception = Rent - gag), and found moments in this one I could enjoy, but they were fleeting. I agree with the many colloquial, on-the-spot reviews I've heard and overheard; "If it ain't broke, don't fix it".

17 Again
A few notches above tolerable, I'd like to think this movie never set out to be a work of cinematic genius - it's light comedy - and that, it delivers. I was surprised to find Thomas Lennon provided much of the humour. Actually, that's a lie - the writers' and prop-team's geek tributes (with Lennon as vehicle) provided much of the humour.


Angels and Demons
I really settled into Hanks being Langdon in this one. I didn't read the book this time - because I didn't enjoy its sequel as much as the film adaptation. (Confusing, I know, The DaVinci Code is the book's sequel, the film's prequel.) I found some of this film horrifying. I also found myself pretty much enthralled. I think it's a thriller worth seeing, but wouldn't class it among my favourites.

Confessions of a Shopaholic
A little like 17 Again, this pic delivers all it's really capable of delivering - light entertainment. Perhaps a little cheerier than the average middle-grade comedy, if my recommendation was a weather forecast, I'd say, "It won't be sunny, but fine".

Seven Pounds
Wow, this film is mushrooms! Or maybe olives. Whatever it is, it seems to have divided its audience 50-50 when it comes to taste. I had one person tell me, "Don't see it. It's the worst film ever," while another said, "I really liked it". My verdict? Camp 2, on the outskirts. I completely disagree with some of the choices the protagonist makes, but I don't have to agree with them to like a film. If no one has ruined it for you (if you've heard/read spoilers, it's probably not worth seeing), then I suggest you see it and decide for yourself; give it the 20-minute test. (It should only be a dollar for you to see it by now, surely.)

Transporter 3
The other two are much, much better. This one's still a solid action flick...but the entire film your thoughts interrupt, "Bring back one! Or two! This isn't one or two!" If you don't like action for action's sake, give it a miss, but if you're a fan of the previous films, this isn't a lost cause - just don't hope for the same. The poster's pretty awesome, right?

Race to Witch Mountain
Not bad at all - I'd watch it again in a few years. Haki fell asleep. The young female lead (AnnaSophia Robb) is distractingly striking. Dwayne Johnson is reliably, what I like to call, "Disney-funny"....and I do like The Rock (not nearly as much as a friend of mine does, cough cough, Mandy of Hamilton).

I recommend skipping:

• Ghosts of Girlfriends Past - We turned it off. Too rude for our liking. Such a shame, good leads!
• Duplicity - Slow, slow, slow. I also thought I was going to have an aneurysm asking, "Where are they going with this? What is this about? What? WHAT!?!" Maybe I'm just stup'? Anyone see it and get it? ANYONE?
• GI Joe - When Haki and I walked out of the theatre he said, "Sorry honey". Need I say more?

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

Haki and I were invited to a costume house-warming party Friday with the theme, "Famous Couples".

We decided to go as Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf.

Wait, something's not quite right.

Yes, I was the Big Bad Wolf, and Haki was the "Not So Little Red Riding Hood"...


But apparently I didn't look very "Bad".

Craig (taking the photo): Ange, look fierce!
Me: I thought that's what I was doing.
Craig: No, look fierce!
Me: Like this?


What can I say, Craig just didn't inspire me. He's not my muse.

My dad informs me it's really not very becoming of us as Mormons to cross-dress. Well, I guess there's always next time to be appropriate and predictable.

Seriously though, I feel a little guilty now.

Other points of note:

• I wish we had a "Woods" backdrop for our photo shoot.
• I wish we had a photo shoot.
• In the car on the way home to get dressed for the party I sang, "If you go into the woods today, you're in for a big surprise!" over and over to Esky. Not the whole song, just that line...the rest really doesn't apply. Teddy Bears! Pah!
  
• Matthew pointed out my costume lacked a tail. For the rest of the evening I attempted to disguise the fact that I felt rather sheepish by taking the opportunity to dance publically while in disguise. Not So Little Red Riding Hood laughed muchly.
  
• When I picked up one of Craig and Kate's girls to dance with her at my hip, I instinctively patted her back to burp her. She is 2.
• I was still sick. But not sick enough to keep me away from these festivities, oh-ho no!
• The plastic parts of a wolf costume are just liquid catchment areas. It's pretty messy. And by that, I mean your every breath causing condensation in the mask...and your hands become clams.
• Not so Little Red sure can shake her toosh....but as for knowing how to sit appropriately in a skirt...not so much.
  
• Other couples Haki and I considered: Frodo and Sam (Esky could have been a bag of POETAYTOOOOS!), King Kong and Fay Raye, Edward and Bella, Salt and Pepper and...
  
• Like a little 6-year-old, Haki kept insisting he dress as Spiderman. I gave him my squinting, "I don't think so face" as I looked from him, to the tight-fitting blue and red number suspended on the coat hanger. The lady that worked at the costume hire place broke the news to Haki; she wouldn't be letting him try it on, and that she was fairly certain he'd split a seam. Haki spent the rest of the time we were inside muttering, "It would have fit" and "Can we go yet?" Who wants to go as MJ, anyway?
  

Some of the other couples' costumes (respectively):

• Paula and Dave = Bella and Edward
• Amee and Phill = Sister Encarnación and Nacho
• Matthew and Jasmine = Sonny and Cher - you've got to read her post about this
  
• Craig and Kate = Someone cloaked and someone in a pretty dress (hahahaha)...okay, apparently they were Eowyn and Faramir, but ah, Craig forgot to get a wig, so really, it was just a pretty lady in an old-style dress and a wannabe Sith Lord.
  
• Manu and Fiona = Shrek and Princess Fiona
• Deanna and The Scotty = Bonnie and Clyde
• Constance and Roland = Laurel and Hardy

P.S. Oh yes, that's right, The Scotty is listed in a couple. Huzzah for The Scotty and his blooming romance!

Two's Company

When one gets overloaded, one often gets run-down. And when one gets run-down, one often gets sick.

I've been sick for the past week. So has Esky.

Being sick hasn't been all bad.

Reasons why:

1. Flowers. Thank you Haki's bosses.
2. Treats. Sadly, no photos are available of treats at this time. Or any time, ever. Maybe I could photograph treats' wrappers? (Thanks Daphne, Sue and Bev.)
   
3. Snot bubbles. Esky doesn't blow them any other time.
4. Pyjama days; suddenly justified. Also, Esky gets to dress in Peter Rabbit marshmallow ones, otherwised deemed too puffy and warm for this spring weather.
   
5. Sneezes. Esky's sometimes produce snot bubbles, while mine produce Esky's giggle.
   
6. Rule-breakin'. I can eat the treats for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
   
7. Nap bliss. When Esky finally slept for more than a 2-hour stretch, I got to join her, curled up together in our bed...which is normally a little naughty (she should be in her own bed). But we're sick. See point 6.
8. Lost. I finally got to watch the fifth season, on my new laptop, in bed.
9. Husbands. I'm lucky enough to have one - and a goody at that. He carried the munchkin off into the living room one morning so I could snatch some much needed sleep after a wakeful night of a feeding / coughing / pooing / cheerful / snotty baby. He's also kind enough to help me eat the treats.
10. Esky. What can I say? It is horrible to hear Esky's chest rattle, see her eyes red, and know her throat hurts because mine does; to hear her coughing up phlegm and know exactly what it tastes like...buuuuuut...it's also magical to see her gleefully bouncing in her Jolly Jumper and initiating peek-a-boo, snot bubbles 'n' all - such a trooper.

I think I'm almost back at 67%...which means tomorrow I'll be a hundy...and Esky should be drinking in good antibodies to follow along thereafter. Bring on Friday night festivities in good health!

The Cot Plot

a.k.a. The Crib Caper

I had been in search of a reasonably-priced new cot mattress for some time. Past tense, had been, because I'm searching no longer! I found one on TradeMe with a $30 "Buy Now".

Even better, it came with a free antique cot.*

*Free because it did not meet NZ cot safety standards, and it is therefore illegal to sell it new or used within the country. Standards it did not meet - having the corner posts no higher than 5mm taller than the sides and having end cut-outs. Yes, yes - you and I survived in cots like these just fine. Yes, the standards may seem pretty extreme. But can you really ignore them when it comes to baby safety?

I promptly bought it.

And set to work.

I couldn't just saw the corner posts off, as you can see the metal rods are mounted too high. So I went to the school I used to teach at and used the workshop's band saw to saw along the corner framing, and then removed the top sections of the cot-ends. Here I reignited my love affair with power tools.


I purchased some untreated, dressed pine and slid it into the gap I'd created and lined with PVA glue. I went to a friend's home for this job, as here there was a) a more gutsy drill; b) a clamp (pictured); and c) a lap and set of willing arms for Esky while mamma worked (also pictured). The drill was used for inserting a pair of long screws either side of the new wood tops. I botched two of the screws (ate out all of the screws' heads with the drill bit) - but this turned out to be a blessing in disguise - as I got to borrow a grinder from another friend's husband to take care of the small protuding head. More power tool goodness...mmm.


Then I filled in a few flaws and sanded the cot all over.

I decided to add some half-round moulding to the top of the new timber - this calls for more PVA, this time held in place by masking tape for the drying time.

Then it was finally paintin' time! I used white semi-gloss acrylic enamel, because, as the Mitre10 Mega paint lad put it, "[Esky] would have to eat the whole tin to get sick" - just the assurance I needed. Here are the cot pieces in the laundry overnight in between painting days. I felt the cot needed 3 coats in all - which meant 6 painting sessions of four walls (one session = one coat on one side of all four pieces). I used rags to keep the latches from scratching the new paint.

During the sanding and painting, Esky watched on enthused and in awe of her power-tool-weilding mother.

Occasionally she would sit on my lap while I painted. I didn't get a drop on her, I might add - quite a feat for anyone I'd say, let alone clumsy me.

Haki and I assembled the made-over cot in its place while Esky looked on, propped up by pillows. We left the fourth side off for now, so the cot functions as a side-car hugging our bed until Esky can crawl out of there...then we'll put it on so she can't topple following an after-nap Odyssey across our bed.

$30 New cot mattress
$34 1 litre of paint
$ 8 timber and moulding
-----
$72 freshly-painted cot and new mattress

Not bad?


Esky approves.
Job done.


P.S. This was the one of the things I had on the go on the home front when I found myself off-kilter last week.

Zit Epiphany

Why, oh WHY did it take me more than 26 years and approximately 1,870 glaring red craters to learn that the only way to make a pimple go away is to leave it alone?

On-kilter - by my will to change

I believe "forgetting yourself and going to work" is very different from "forgetting your family and going to work". I've always found it easy to mentally review my day and think, "Yes, I'm prepared to sacrifice that thing I was going to do for me." But now, saying, "Yes" to someone often means committing to sacrifice service to another person - like your spouse, or child.

I am not saying that I don't have time to serve others, or that I won't make time for service that counts.

But if spending a day, for example, baking cookies for another family, organising another adult's finances for them, running a "busy person's errands" because he/she professes lack of time, agreeing to produce spreadsheets and designs for free means that your own family doesn't get dinner until 9pm, your own child is longing for engagement, and you have no clean underwear washed...
then something isn't right.

So here am I - typing between sneezes, sniffles, and phleghm-hoicks - hoping this entry will remind me, should I ever again find myself becoming ensnared as a "slave to the word 'yes'" instead of a servant to my fellowman (different things, I think), I may remember;

I can say "no".

Even if the person asking thinks, "How rude! I thought she was kinder than that," or, "What's happened to all the true Christians out there?"- I must remember to think inside, "Well, you were too late in the line, partner - I don't always say 'no', so if you're hearing it, it's because I really, really need to sleep." (And sometimes quietly - but I haven't blogged in more than a week! Bahahaha.)

I must forget to aspire to being a "Yes-woman" - because if too many people ask, it's impossible to follow-through on that answer. Instead, I must try to be a wife and mother first, and an additional service-person second.

Yet even as I move the mouse to publish, I'm thinking, "But this makes me a bad person! I hate the thought of someone saying 'I need help', and me claiming I'm unavailable!" Oh, the trickiness of identifying the difference between genuine need and someone taking advantage of a retiring "Yes-woman". /sigh

I am very fortunate to have a husband that will frequently remind me of the quest to be on-kilter. Love you, honey.

I welcome others' thoughts.

Off-kilter - by my own design

Things I'm good at saying "no" to:

• Requests to have my photo taken for display.
• Offers of naughty substances.
• Enticements to view R-rated, pirated, or otherwise shady films.
• Telemarketers' probes.
• The mandatory Shell super-deal question.
  
• Suggestions I sing in public.
• Offers for help when I can help myself.
• Invitations to shave off all of my locks for charity.
  

When I'm very, very bad at saying "no":

• All other times.

My difficulty in uttering this assertive, decisive syllable has become more apparent of late. With the line between service/charity and becoming an exhausted, sick slave becoming very blurred, I have agonised over the occasions I have supplied this response in the last month.

Due to my upbringing, nature, and role models, and my interpretation of them, to respond "no" to a request that I perform a task connotes a number of unpleasantries:

• Unwillingness to serve or general unrighteousness;
  
• Disrespect;
• An admission of inadequacy to do the task, or be a "super lady" that will make time to do the task;
• A reflection of how much I love or care for someone; and/or
  
• Rebellion.

When really, an intelligent and wise human might argue the word is, at times:

• Empowering; and
• Essential.

Haki regularly reminds me that saying "yes" to performing tasks can be far worse. Say, when:

• Agreeing doesn't help the individual asking;
• I am sick;
• I am already very busy and close to being stressed (the state Haki wishes to avoid finding me in at all costs);
• There is someone else that should be doing it / the request is inappropriate / the person is being lazy;
• I haven't done the same task for my own family; and/or
  
• I really don't want to do it (and therefore would be doing it grudgingly, rendering the service pretty much null and void).

I tendered my resignation as a full-time teacher recently. I am 100% certain about this decision. I want more than anything to be home with Esky. If I am required to take on paid work, then that is where I'll do it from.

YET...when my principal called upon receiving my good-bye letter and expressed his disappointment, saying, "We'll miss you. Is there no capacity we can have you in? Is there any way I can convince you to come back? You're a valuable part of the team, you know. You are. You are," I was a hair's breadth away from saying, "Okay! See you tomorrow!" What? What? What is wrong with me?

Furthermore, less than a month after reigning myself in during this conversation, I found myself in the same principal's office being offered another role - sitting on my hands, so as not to thrust one out for an accepting handshake.

I shake my hanging head in shame at the recollection.

And the past few weeks have been no different - I have found myself spending a vast amount of time doing things for others - something which, in and of itself - I find a good thing. But, there were so many things, that I didn't have time to just enjoy Esky. Oh, I still loved every moment we were spending together...but we were never just spending time together - because I had said "yes" to so many little jobs, I was always doing one of them, and Esky was along for the ride, nestled in between my legs while I worked, or watching from a high chair as I narrated what I was doing. I also didn't have time to sleep. Thus, off-kilter.

But I am doing my darnedest to get this sorted. I think I'm winning.

So, my secret is out. Hello, Cat!

People often say to me, "I just don't know how you have the tiiiiime [for blogging]". Sadly, this is not said in a tone of admiration, but rather one of disapproval - as though my life is so bleak that I need to fill it with a geeky hobby or nine out of desperation.

I usually answer politely that I make time because I enjoy it. I've also realised lately that, in addition to the many, many reasons I'm a blogging advocate, posting and reading posts is one of the ways I feel on top of things. It's worth making the time.

But if we're being completely honest...I don't spend as much time as they think I do. Or at least, as frequently.

You see, I don't blog as often as my posts appear. I don't. Nope nope nope. I dedicate one morning of the week to churning out a week's worth (or more) of posts (at my insane typing speed, I might add), and then set them all to appear on future dates. Done. Tick in diary.

At any other time, if I think of something I want to write about, I just open up a Notepad document that's saved on my desktop titled "Blog Posts" and tap in a few notes for "Blog Morning" - and then carry about my day. (Notepad is preferable, fyi, as copying and pasting the notes into Blogger later from here doesn't import unwanted code, which Word and other programmes will do.)

This cat came leaping out of its bag because I began receiving phone calls, emails, and text messages of concern when my posts fizzled out over the past week or more, which in turn led to multiple confessions, including this one. I have been busy, really busy...busier than normal, but the fizzling is more fizzley due to this secret; I haven't missed a week or so full of morning-blogging - I've missed one morning of blogging for a week or so of posts. Without knowing my secret, things seem a little more dramatic, methinks.

I guess you could still say the slow-down's an indication of something not quite right; I could have made any morning that morning, and I felt my notepad list was becoming a joke. And the past little while things have been a tad off-kilter.

But I'm back and on-kilter, and loving it. Call me "Stella".

P.S. I wrote this post on Friday. Why stagger them? Have you never visited Reader or a site to find 12 posts appeared overnight, and thought, "Darn you!"? I have. What is with these bulk-posting shenanigans? That's right, http://ilearntechnology.com/ - I'm talking to you! Can't...delete...subscription...but can't keep up!

Shelftastic

Because we're temporarily living in a compact apartment - without a garage, shed, or much space at all...much of our stuff is in storage. And while I do adore the storage unit, I look forward to having my things on-hand again some day.

The treasure I was missing most - our books. The poor things were suffocating in stacked boxes within the unit's bowels, and I could see no way that our multiple freebie bookshelves hiding beside them could find a space in our micro-home.

But my longing for their nearness became too much, and I resolved one tall bookshelf would do the trick - our collection isn't that large yet. (I aspire, oh, how I do.)

It also wasn't helping that people like Janssen were posting pictures of their super-shelving...her, and all those design folk that create home-redesign-lust inside me...like this post, and this shelf, and this one, and especially this one. Although I do love white.

So, I began my hunt. Second-hand stores, garage sales (okay, I lie, I only talked about getting up early and going to those temptation-lands), more second-hand stores, and TradeMe. By the way, 70% of the people selling shelves on TradeMe called their listing "Whateversize/description Bookshelve". It killed me. Shelf = singular; Shelves = plural.

In my hunting I concluded that the biiiig, solid wood shelves (or anything like them) of my dreams are expensive - first- or second-hand. We're not money-baggin' it just now, but we're fine. But solid wood shelves of my dreams are not a priority...

SO...I brainstormed...and came up with an interim solution.

6 x cheapie small, 3-tiered shelves, stacked to mimic the look of my dream-shelves.


I'm a touch impressed with myself.

Before you say I've got too much time on my hands - organising the books in this way - please note that I was taking my lovelies out of boxes, not off of a shelf and re-doing it. It's easy to place books up into a shelf corresponding to their colour. What, you didn't even notice? Squint as you look at the picture. Still don't notice? Man! Well, I tried. It didn't take longer, and it makes me happy.

What did add time, was placing "[Ourlastname] Family Library" stickers into every book as it came out of the box. You'll be proud to know I eventually stressed less about the stickers being perfectly parallel with the cover's edge. I tried not to think about what would be better than stickers...Janssen, /cough cough "book plates".

Now if I long to read an old flame, I can. I can use ol' favourites in lesson and talk prep. If I want to draw out a text I'm referring to in discussion, I will. Also, I can look at them, and have them close. Having them close is heart-warming, to be sure.

I figure when we can afford my dream-shelves, we'll get them...AND this money won't be wasted, as these can be wardrobe shelves. I love wardrobe shelves. I believe in them. Ask to see inside our wardrobe sometime, I dare you.

For the voyeurs / observant / detail-lovers:

• Recognise Snoop? That's my name for the wooden dog-fella I found on one of my op-shop trawls. He's not Snoopy, but he's enough like him that he can have the name "Snoop". I think I may paint him. I had a real inward struggle about his placement; "He's brown - he should be with the brown books. But he looks like Snoopy - and the Peanuts comics are down here...plus, there's a gap". /Sigh.
  
• Up on top there you can see the toddler push-car I bought to fix up, mid-project. Consider it a preview.
  
• Yes, there are some gaps. Some of our books are on loan...I took this into account.
  
• I also agonised over the lime cubes' placement - up with the green - or down at the height that things can be retrieved easily by little people? Yes, I know, you think before long my child will pull all the books off the shelves - why would I keep things there? Well, I like them there. We'll see.
  
• What are all those matching books in a row up the top there? That's my Pick-a-path collection, that's what. Am I particularly into them? No. Am I enough into them that when I spy a box of 50 of them going for free I take them? Yes. Now I'm into them.
  

P.S. What would a post about books and bookshelves be without links to you, J? I know, sorting by author or genre normally makes more sense to me...but I know my books so well, I can find them really fast based on what I know the spine looks like, so this works for me. In a library, NEVER.

Esky, the Teething Chatterbox

Esky is almost five months old now. And she has teeth. Two of them.

I knew they were coming, even though people said it was early. After all, she started drooling like an old, senile cat - only not old or senile. She's a little like a cat though - as she grooms her hair and forehead with her paws when she's sleepy. And she sporadically took up what I call her "pain whimper" - which I first encountered after her 6-week immunisations, and confirmed at the 3-month jabs. If those clues weren't enough, she stopped sleeping for more than a 30-minute stretch, began gnawing on on all of creation, (as opposed to sucking all in reach), and when I applied pressure to her bottom gum with my finger, she was immediately soothed. Personally, I think our little ones deserve a fairy visit for getting these things.

Other developments of note:

• Back-scooting has begun - she pumps her little leg and slides - that is, until she encounters an obstacle...even if it is in the form of a parent swooping in to save her crown from carpet-burn.
• She can pass things back and forth between her hands...
• ...as well as back and forth between her hands and the floor. Yes, that game has begun.
  
• Esky's Blue Steel is "The Hide". Whether peeking over her dad's shoulder, waking in the morn, or exchanging smiles from her carseat, Esky likes to dip her chin and twist her head away after being made happy. Often when I talk to her, sing to her, or even whisper her name, she plays bashful, and tucks her grin out of sight.
  
• A daughter after her own mother's voicebox, Esky tends to vocalise. Even when her mouth is full of hider, or when she's falling asleep (to the final moment of stillness, she can coo and sigh aloud), or in the direction of inanimate objects (including the mobile I feared she didn't love...but turns out she really, really does). I get joyfully weepy in the mornings as I form a seat-back with my thighs and perch her on my stomach - as she can hold quite the conversation in vowels. Even her sighs are audible...not breathy, wind-filled sighs, but all-out sounds. I love it.
  
• Speaking of hider-mouthfuls - Esky has become quite the distracted one - popping on and off to survey the company and surroundings, or just to flash her mother a smile. Sometimes sweet, other times just a whole lot of unwanted boob exposure.
• While cradled in arms or lap-sitting, Esky loves to play catch'n'evade with her hand. She'll lay her hand on my palm, anticipating the catch, and then I when I enclose her little chubby fingers in mine, crying, "Gotcha!" she giggles. That, or I catch her little nippers in my mouth - either way, she's entertained...although we're still working on the evade part. This game never gets old I tell you. Don't pretend you've grown out of it. I still try to lay a pen in Haki's hand and evade before he catches me. I win a lot, I might add. I'm a speedy minx.
  
• The previous two bullets are often combined. While feeding she will stretch up her arm to play catch'n'evade with her hand to my lips. Each time I "nom" on her nails she opens her gums wide and smiles.
• I miss her when she sleeps.
• I believe an actual conduit opens from heaven as a child falls asleep, looking at you, smiling, while you sing.
  
• I've realised each milestone is exciting and sad at the same time - I'm in no hurry for my infant to become a girl. Oh, how I hope I get to do this again.

Wederrandsday Delights

Yesterday was an errands day. I like errands days. As it turns out, errands days like me too, because they just keep on spitting out delightful moments. I'll share 5.

Top on the "to do" list - a visit to our Sci-fi storage unit. Here I was to drop off some of Esky's outgrown clothing, and re-fill our sugar tin and flour container from our giant food storage canisters. I'd like to say that I keep them in the unit so that they're not with us on the flood plain and it's all a master plan, but really, it's because we lack room in our current apartment to keep all of our year's supply with us. The other reason would be so much weirder...and therefore cooler.

I don't know how or why, but en route to the next errand, the sugar decided to leap out of its tin.

Delightful moment number 1:

It went into the seatbelt-clicker-inner-slot, into the cup-holders...

...and pretty much everywhere.

I chose to laugh; there really is no use crying over spilt sugar. Especially since my already-scheduled next errand was a visit to Mr Clean to vacuum out Thimba. How often does one spill sugar all through a car (not often, right?)...but wait, how often does one spill sugar all through a car AND have a plan to vacuum the car as the next thing on the list already? ALREADY!? I win, pesky elves assigned to dampening spirits! I win!

Esky slept through most of the car's grooming, but when she did wake, she was more than content, so long as I narrated my CNP actions.

Delightful moment number 2:

I went to collect a freeeeeeeeee pack of lightbulbs from Countdown to replace one I'd purchased months ago which contained bulbs that didn't work. I still had the necessary reference number from the customer service response I received, written in my magical diary with a circle still next to it of course; "Get free bulbs - #". The reference number still worked. Cha-ching!

When I returned to the car, I saw the ute adjacent to my park had brought along the family pet. Aw.

And it wasn't a dog.

Delightful moment number 3:



There was a litter box of sawdust on the floor. I was mighty tempted to wait to see who would come out and insert a key into the rough'n'tumble, manly ute with the DIY-sawdust litter box...and kitty...but errands day waits for no one! I decided imaging the owner ushering the cat into the ute was enough. (You slap your knee for a dog...but do you call, "Here, kitty kitty"? to get this feline friend along for a sup stop? Or is there chasing involved?)

Delightful moment number 4:

I stopped to check Spotlight for supplies for my biggest project yet, and also found all the rub-on letters for Esky's name on special - bonus. AND...

these...

For scale, these are a much bigger than mugs. There are, however, no handles inolved in this affair. I could have put a mug in the picture so you could see just how big they are, but none are worthy. I can just see our kids (future imaginings - I have them) sucking down milk from these, and the top of the cups' circumference covering all of their face while they gulp. Stripey, Coney Island giant non-mug cups are awesome. They almost make me feel better about what happened to one of my prized grails. Almost. I'm still not ready to talk about it.

Haki has decided I have a cup fetish.

I am stopping to think about that.

Naaaa.

Delightful moment number 5:

I lined up an afternoon chatsky with a friend, and she picked the cafe - a cafe I have previously visited. I found their iced chocolate disappointing. I decided I would play greasy with the waitress and see how far it got me. Well, if buttering up the waitstaff to get awesome service was measured in bases, I totally made it to third. Okay, maybe a home run. There was an epic amount of syrup in my iced choc...and our "standard", no frills wedges on the menu came with bacon, capsicum, chives, sour cream and who knows what other wonderful things...because I worked it.

Oh yeah. Delightful.

Icing on Wederrandsday's cake? All this, and I got to have Esky for company! Life is good.

Central Perks

This week Esky and I accompanied Haki on an overnight trip to Central Otago, making deliveries en route and on return. It was the company's treat - I think the lovely people we work with envisioned us strolling sunny streets hand-in-hand and sampling ripe fruit in the down-time.

Turned out there was no down-time.

Our family may have worn matching seatbelts for 85% of the hours away, but that is not to say the trip lacked lustre...

Oh contraire!

• We enjoyed hours of family sing-along to an EFY album on repeat. I was repeatedly treated to Haki's remixes, as his memory failed him in the lyric department...even after he would say, "Oh, I know this one!" Nope, nope, you really don't.
• Esky sat in a swing for the first time.
• I saw five children racing bottle caps down a stream. One cap was called "Chester".
  
• Having slept-in, virtually to the motel's check-out time, I got to later give my face a once-over with one of Esky's wipes in a small-town library and call it a shower.
  
• By this logic, Esky's swing-ride wasn't the trip's only first; I was breast-feeding during that shower, and in a small-town library no less. How's that for a sentence to boast about? Eh? EH?
  
• We drove by stunning backdrops of snow-capped peaks, burgeoning rivers, and springing lambs in weeping willow-filled fields.
  
• I didn't buy a single item from any of The Salvation Army stores I spied. Even the one I entered after spying a cheap stroller I could "test" to relieve my bloodless, babe-toting arms - one of many, many tactics I've employed when buggy-less.
  
• Quoting, "Are you from the past?" and "Goo eway...reyd siem beocks!" over and over just got funnier. Long car rides'll do that.
  
• I got to stuff ciabatta rolls with silverside and avocado in my lap, pass one to Haki, and call them lunch, afternoon tea, and dinner.
• I drank in the smell and sight of the two most precious mortals in my universe for 48 hours straight. For the most part the smells were good.
  

Trip's biggest disappointment:

1. None of Haki's over-tired alter-egos made an appearance; when Haki feels drowsy while driving, there's no need for a driver-reviver stop - oh no! He just commences a 2/3-hour long monologue in character, with an accent. I'm so accustomed to Baza (a brazen Australian, overly fond of the word, "Jeepers"), Cletus (a hick who likes to say his own name), or Gary (a game-show host) joining us for the ride home, it seemed someone was missing on our return journey.

Sabbath Amusements VIII

Paula knew this was coming. My reports on Primary antics have become such a routine that now the music leader just looks my way after one of the kids says something, smiles, and sometimes even adds, "I'll be reading about that later" or, "That just made the blog."

Today was no exception.

I watched the youngest member of the group, only 3, making earnest efforts to participate during the warm-up scales. I celebrated inside - he may not be in tune, but he's involved! Let's call him Rogan. After the set finished, Paula looked at the group, wearing melodramatic disappointment for effect, "What was wrong with that?!"

Almost every child present turned and pointed at the 3-year-old newbie; "Rogan!"

Sharing Time was about revelation from prophets - ancient and modern. The sister teaching held up an image of an old, grey man standing above a group of people, arms up, exhorting the people. An ark is clearly being constructed in the background. "Who is this prophet?" she asked the group. A sweet young lad put up his hand and offered, "Moa!"

Close.


The group were brainstorming revelation and instruction received in the latter-days. Revelation pertaining to home food storage, growing a garden, and the Word of Wisdom all featured in the discussion. The sister teaching added, "We've also been told to avoid debt. What's debt?"

One of the children explained, "It's when you owe people money."

"That's right, debt is when you owe people money."

A boy - who shall be known as Roo (7) - piped up, "What's debt?" (This scenario is always funny to me - the child who asks something that has just been explained. In this character's case, I suspect him displaying a face drawn on his stomach played some part in his distraction.)

The teacher politely answered, "Well, one example of debt is when you borrow money to buy something that costs a lot, like a house. Sometimes debt like that can't be avoided."

I looked to Roo's face to see if that illustration had been helpful. It scrunched up as he formed the words and exclaimed, "Noooo! We just rent!"

And there we were, avoiding terms like "mortgage" and "hire purchase" in favour of dumbed-down expressions like, "borrowing for something that costs a lot." When will we learn?

Plan yourself a merry little Christmas

Late last night my sister sent this email;

Hi everyone,

I've made a list of possible things to do over the Christmas holidays. Feel free to veto or second any of these (Nat's already vetoed all the museums, but I've left them on there, just to have all the possibilities listed).

Staglands I
Nga Manu
Lindale
Mini Golf I
Driving Range I
Round of Golf
Beach
Swimming Pool I
Skate 'N' Blade I
Shopping at post-Christmas sales I
Op shopping I
Talent show I
Magic show I
Waikanae museum
Southwards Car Museum
Te Papa
Wellington Maritime Museum
Basketball I
Berry picking I

Can anyone think of anything else? Does anyone want to make a plan of what/when we'll do things or just wing it?

I personally think the talent and magic shows are a must.

I'm also going to make a list of possible meals, so if anyone wants to eat anything specific email me and I'll compile a list. You could also email me things that you want to be at Christmas dinner and I'll put together that list as well.

I know we're still a while away but since I'm all in the mood we also need to decide where everyone is sleeping. Any preferences?

Love you all! In case you can't tell I'm a bit excited about it all.

Love Mariah



I first put a stroke (I) next to all of the activities I think it would be great to fit in. (I would have loved to insert a tick, but many of the family members read Plain Text and so it wouldn't display. /Tapping my temple - I'm a thinker.)

But really, will they fit in amongst all that I have planned?

• Lay in the sun
• Hold hands with Erika and/or Mariah on the couch
• Sit on the deck swing with Austin
  
• Clap with Jemima on the floor
• Watch a movie with Jer and talk about it for 30 minutes, after he’s woken up
• Squeeze Mackenzie
• Whisper sweet somethings in Haki’s ear
• Attempt to hug Theo
• Play with Taminime
• Snuggle J-dog
• Smooch Sadie
• Win Acquire
• Swim in the river
• Reclaim Esky from Yvonne’s clutches so I can smell her
• Eat until everyone else feels sick and I feel peachy
• Take pictures of Mom asleep on the lazy-boy
• Try and find J-mischief
• Play Haki in Stratego
• Reorganise the games hutch
• Go through my boxes of stuff that are still stored in my old room; throw most of it out
• Visit Jessie’s grave
• Tell Mom and Dad I love them lots of times a day
• Visit the temple (maybe with Kylie?)
• Assess the quality of the white Christmas lights’ arrangement; if they're not yet up, rectify the situation immediately
• Play a practical joke on Nattigan (sleep with one eye open, buddy)
• Tell Tim about the joke I played on Nat
• Raid the treats stash
• See if I can still tickle Erika until she has to pee
• Play with Mariah’s hair
• Scan in childhood photos
• Play the piano I grew up with
• Pet the horses
• Tease Erika about being afraid of the horses
• Play Snaps, Telethon, Black Magic and Crossed/uncrossed
• All of this, whilst photographing Esky’s every breath

So you see, Mary-Lou, I'm just not sure how we can fit all those trips out of the house in...when I have so much to do on site! Plus, all of my things are free.

P.S. You're not the only one looking forward to Christmas. That said, I in no way endorse the Christmas displays already springing up in retail-land. /Shaking head.