Sharing Snaps

Greetings, earthlings! 

Sharing is caring, so I'm here to share my snaps for Life This Week. Fair warning: most of them are my most excellent canine companion, the illustrious Uncanny Channy, aka Chandler. Sorry, not sorry! 

The way I see it, things are so grim right now why wouldn't you want to look at a cute doggo? Unless you're a psycopath not a dog person. In which case there's nothing for you to see here. Good bye. *Waves*

CHANDLER

A car trip to Nurragingy Reserve

An uncomfortable pose, perched on the edge of the couch

THAT FAAACE 

The King in his throne 

Channy and I cuddling 

SO handsome

Face and paw snuggling onto my leg. Nawww...

CHANDLER SLEEPING

TREES

Nurragingy Reserve

Bees in our wattle tree 

FOOD

A whatever's in the fridge pasta concoction I made.
Tasted pretty good. 

ZOO

Highlights of our trip to Sydney Zoo back in May. I think we got a few animals in there. Ahem. It now seems like an eternity ago and unthinkable that we had such freedom! 

DIPLOMA 

And last but not least, I finally received my diploma! YAY! 

End of snaps. 

Until next time, 

Ness

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Ye Olde Blog

Hello again! Things are pretty boring and blah so I figured I may as well post write a blog post to keep you entertained. So let's do it.

Aaaaaaaand...

Clearly I didn't think this through because I have nothing scintillating to report. Oops. 

Sydney is in lockdown so no library shifts for me. Sigh. However, I've been able to continue my permanent part time job doing end processing of DVDS for libraries. It's great cause I get to indirectly do work for various libraries all over Australia without going to the actual libraries. It's like magic! This past week I had to stay home but I'm back again this coming week. 

Our fabulous and favourite furry friend Chandler continues to become more lovable each day. Needless to say he loves lockdown. Plenty of walks, pats and company. Pets have really come out the winners here, that's for sure. Except those unfortunate pets who were obtained by eejits who were bored and impulsively got a pet without thinking it through and then dumped them when it got difficult. GRRRR. Not cool. 

The boys are keen to get Chandler (see above) a playmate and I like the idea but I have to convince Mickey Blue Eyes. We shall see. 

Mr 12 and I have binge watched a few series such as Superstore, Kim's Convenience, and Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, the later being our favourite. This is one of our favourite songs from the show:

Oh yeah, it's a musical and totally rad and underrated. Can you tell it's my current obsession? 

When I think about it they always start with C: 

Cakies, Carpenters, Crazy Ex-girlfriend...

Oh wait, books and dogs don't. Except our two most recent dogs are the late beloved Cookie, and our current cutie pie Chandler.  Both of their names begin with a C. I didn't actually choose the names but there they are. Interesting coincidence. 

There's definitely one thing starting with C that I passionately LOATHE. You guessed it: Cancer. Fuck that shit.  Related: A friend of ours passed away recently. May he rest in peace. 

Also; Covid. Kindly go away and leave all of humanity alone, you  nasty virus, you! Yeah, just fuck off. I think this situation warrants an F word. 

Continuing the things beginning with C theme, I've done a bit of cooking because we like eating. That's truly the only reason I cook. Not a fan of the process. Here's some chocolate chip cookies I prepared earlier. They are literally the only thing I cook that my boys like and ask me to make. 

That reminds me. When I sign off I have to go and peel potatoes for dinner. I loathe peeling potatoes. I  adore eating potatoes. The eternal dilemma. Doh.  

Last week I got my drive thru flu jab but they didn't give me any fries with that. Rude. I prefer chips anyway, but still. At least I took a rare selfie because I was bored and anxious (see below):

What can you say about lovely old lockdowns and the pandemic that hasn't already been said?  I will say this: 

You know how back in the 60s hippies sang about a new world coming? Well I don't think this is what they had in mind. You know how Patsy Cline sang Stop The World and Let Me Off? Yeah, THAT.

Next week I get my first Covid vaccine jab. I would have had it sooner had it been possible but this is the first opportunity I've had to get it. Not my fault! Meanwhile Mickey Blue Eyes is fully vaccinated. 

In the midst of all this madness, it became obvious that I need to start to practice some actual real self care of the not inhaling cake variety. Turns out that's self-indulgence NOT self-care. Who knew? 

So anyway, I'm exercising a lot (well, most days)  because I got lazy about it and then this pesky little thing I call Agnes (aka anxiety) started to tap me on the shoulder. Oops. Plus, I figure it might be helpful to actually ingest some vegetables, get adequate sleep and practice some mindfulness. With this in mind I've even busted out the old adult colouring in again. Nice.

Whilst doing this I also burned a lavendar candle. I know lots of people loathe lavendar but I think we've confirmed that I've always been a bit of a Nanna at heart so I love it! 

Speaking of nanna's (or grandma's as my mum prefers), my beautiful mum turned 80 on the 26th of July and I couldn't see her. Wahhhhhhh. But we had a virtual cakie and a toast which was nice. Let's be thankful for technology I guess. 

Is it truly August? I can barely remember what day it is let alone what month. Mickey Blue Eyes will also have a lockdown birthday on the 11th. At least there will still be CAKE. It's a birthday so I'm allowed to be self-indulgent! Shut up. 

As if Covid wasn't bad enough, I've also got another crisis on my hands.  I'm not reading enough! GASP

I knowwww. Tragedy! The problem is that I don't wanna read depressing or gruesome stuff but generic romance or whatever doesn't hold my attention anymore. I started reading The Family Doctor but abandoned it because it was pretty intense and graphic from the first chapter. Following this I switched to a historical romance but the male characters were so awful I just couldn't deal with it.

Anyway, I picked up a paperback I'd got at an op shop called Everything Is Beautiful and I'm reading it verrry sloowwwly. It's kind of sad because it's about hoarding brought on by trauma or loss, but I think there may very well be a hopeful ending. Fingers crossed. 

You could say the same thing about podcasts. I need to dial back the murdery ones and listen to something else. But what?  Audio books are good idea. Duh.  And I'm supposed to be a library professional?! Ahem.

Podcasts for me are basically just a way to force myself to do dull stuff like dishes, cooking or folding washing. I need something in my ears to get it done. Otherwise I will poke my own eyeballs out with boredom. I mean, you can tell I'm just dithering here to avoid the afore mentioned potato peeling. 

As expected I don't have anything of note to report, but nevertheless it feels good to just type some random words. Just as randomly I began using instagram again. My account was sitting there forlornly, sad and dejected, just like this blog. The thing is, I have no idea how to use hashtags so if someone could explain it I'd be grateful? Never mind I'll just google it myself like a normal person. Me? A normal person? Bahahahahaha! Normal is overrated, right? 

Do you ever find yourself wondering why someone reacts with an angry emoticon to a fairly innocuous comment you made in a Facebook group? Definitely a sign that lockdown has gone on tooo long and you need to get out more and off Facebook. Once again I've gone off on one of my tedious tangents. But you get that. The pointless dithering, that is. Done!

Ok people, stay groovy (and safe!). 

Until next time,

Ness 

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Favourite Family Meals

Meals are my favourite times of the day. It's a shame I have to cook them. But for some reason the pesky old dinner fairy refuses to show up.  In fact, my life pretty much revolves around eating. Sad, but true. 

The favourite crowd pleasing meal around these parts would have to be the old bog standard roast.

Otherwise it's anything chicken. Roast chook, drumsticks, schnitzel and the good old bbq chooks from the supermarket when I'm too lazy busy to make anything. 

In fact Mr 12 once referred to himself as Chicken Connor. But he probably wouldn't like me telling anyone that. Shhhhhh, don't tell him I told you. 

When I was growing up my favourites were baked chicken or spaghetti bolognaise. Clearly my boys inherited my originality. 

Well, actually only one boy out of my three will eat spaghetti bolognaise or anything with a sauce. My younger two detest all sauces. They don't even like tomato sauce with chicken nuggets or sausages, like most kids. Weird.

Truthfully my seven year old exists on chicken (which has to be the pure white breast part only; or schnitzel), potatoes, boiled eggs, tuna, fruit and the smell of an oily rag. That's another one of my Mum's sayings.  I forgot about that one. 

I'll pretty much eat anything that isn't nailed down and most likely have a go at the nailed down stuff as well. This is interesting because as a child I was somewhat picky. I only liked my Mum's cooking. Related: my Mum is a superb cook. There was even one instance as a child when a former family friend wondered if I may be anorexic. I can hear all the hysterical laughter. Sniff. How times change. 

When it comes to cooking I am this weird sort of dichotomy where one night I can make something fabulous and delicious, the next something even my dog wouldn't eat. I have fits and fancies. Sometimes I'm really motivated to cook and into it. Other times I'd rather poke my eyeballs out. I prefer looking up new recipes and trying different things. But the whole cooking-for-a-fussy-family-throw-some-sausages-in-a-pan-thing bores me shitless and makes me stabby. 

There is also the sad truth that my kitchen is approximately the size of a postage stamp. We also do not possess a dishwasher in 2016. What are we like? I'll tell you: broke economical. So ner!

And don't get me started on the other phenomenon where everyone insists that you should get your kids involved in the kitchen.  Not spectacularly easy when a) you have a tiny kitchen, and b) you're not particularly wonderful at the thing you're trying to teach some one else to do and c) the person you're trying to teach isn't totally into it. My boys enthusiasm for learning to cook is in direct contrast to their desire to eat, which is constant. Hmmm, wonder where they inherited THAT from...

I only really learnt a few bits and pieces about cooking during high school home science classes. The rest I made up as I went or learnt from The Women's Weekly Basic cookbook. It is exactly that. It tells you all the basics from how to boil an egg, cook a roast and make scones. My boys love my scones.

 Anyway, I used that book until it fell apart. Luckily I was able to get another one, but now that is also falling to bits. I'm hoping I can find another one on Evilbay. 

Apart from all of that there's always the true Dinner Fairy. Meaning, take away.  And I must admit, sometimes that is truly my favourite. 

Linking up for Life This Week , Open Slather and Mummy Mondays.

What are your favourite family meals? 

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Food, Glorious Food

I’ve always loved food and have a terrible sweet tooth. Which is quite obvious, considering how often I mention cake on this blog.  Fortunately, my sugar cravings were kept at a respectable level while I was growing up due to my Mum’s brilliant home cooking. Whenever we had cakies or sweets they were always homemade. In fact, one of my brother’s pet peeves was the fact that we never had bought biscuits!  These days I’m sure he’d prefer the homemade ones, but for some reason back then he just wanted Tim Tams or whatever was popular in the 70’s. Iced Vo Vo's? Scotch Fingers? Something like that, anyway. 

There was a period of time as a teenager when I used to take the whole a Mars a day helps you work, rest and play advertising slogan quite seriously. I managed to eat one nearly every day while still remaining slim. Oh, to have the metabolism of a teenager again!

Unbelievably now (considering I'll eat just about anything that isn't nailed down), I used to be quite fussy about what I would and wouldn’t eat, preferring my Mum’s cooking to any type of take away or packaged food.  If we visited any friends or relatives where we were served frozen apple pie my reaction was one of sheer revulsion. They may as well as have served me dog shit on toast such was my horror. Spoiled little princess that I was. However, you have to understand that I was used to my Mum’s homemade apple pie. And, as my nephew has stated: this is not just apple pie; it’s an experience. Yep, my Mum could have aced MasterChef if it had been around back then. Actually she still could if she wanted to, but she’s nearly 73 and probably sick of all the cooking by now. 

There was always a hot, tasty meal on the table at around 6pm every night when I was growing up. Even though it was often the standard fare of chops and three veg, roast chicken or spaghetti bolognaise, somehow my Mum managed to put that extra bit of love in it to make it taste better than anyone else’s cooking. It was a very rare occasion if we had take away.

Occasionally we would get dressed up and go out for dinner to a local Chinese restaurant.  For a long time I wouldn’t try any Chinese food.  I’d have my chicken and chips, sometimes followed by a banana split for dessert. Eventually my parents managed to coax me into eating the fried rice, then short soup and chicken omelette. And that was exotic for me. I didn’t really taste many new and different foods.

In addition to this, I really haven’t travelled a lot, so I’ve never had opportunities to try different foods. I did go to Holland with my parents when I was ten years old in 1981, but I don’t remember trying many different foods. I stuck with the sweet stuff and lived on custard while there.  I seem to vaguely recall that it was the custom there to smother hot chips with peanut sauce. At the time this struck me as the most revolting thing EVER. Thinking about it now, though, it occurs to me that it was probably a satay type sauce and that I’d really like it now. I was just a weird child. 

I think one of the reasons I’m struggling with my weight as a middle aged woman (apart from my cake and chocolate addiction) is that I’m finding that I just like a lot more different foods now which I would have once found completely disgusting. Certain imaginary (online) friends who shall remain nameless are repulsed by my penchant for Indian food referring to all curry as ‘spicy puke’. Once upon a time I certainly would have shared this view. However, my taste buds have developed and my arse has grown accordingly. My sugar addiction has continued in conjunction with these developing taste buds. Oh who am I kidding, I’m just a big glutton.  Shut up. 

The only extremely strange and bizarre food (to me) that I can remember trying is pig’s ear. I can’t say I found it very appetising. This happened when I was working at the State Library of NSW years decades ago and a lovely Taiwanese lady whom I worked with, invited me to her home for a meal. One of the things she cooked was pig’s ear. Maybe there is another term for the dish but I don’t recall, except that it was made with the pig’s ear.  I only remember the texture being rubbery and chewy and I’m not sure if I managed to swallow it. All of the other dishes the lady had prepared were fine but I definitely couldn’t get into the pig’s ear. Just thinking of it now makes me shudder. But hey, at least I tried it, right? When I Googled the term 'cooked pig's ear' a veritable feast of recipes appeared. I guess it is a popular culinary delight to many people but I think I'll pass. 

I may have to get used to some different types of food, though. In a moment of madness I have signed up for the Get Healthy service and will be starting my telephone coaching very soon; beginning my ‘get healthy’ journey. Oh fuck, I’ve just become one of those people who says they’re on a ‘journey’. If I start mentioning kale and quinoa then you know I've been abducted by aliens and it’s not me writing this blog anymore.  On second thought, I’m pretty sure I’ll leave them with the pig’s ear. 

Linking up with Kirsty from My Home Truths for I MustConfess.

And linking this up yet again for The Lounge.

 

What's the weirdest food you've ever tried?

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The Stuff I Would Outsource

Today I am contemplating the things or areas of my life that I would wish to outsource if I could. I'm thinking that they are going to be pretty freaking obvious. I mean, who wouldn't outsource all house work and mind numbing chores if they could? If you answered that YOU wouldn't, it's likely that you are deeply insane and require therapy immediately.  Or that you are simply a too good to be true anal retentive perfectionist. If so, unfortunately we can't be friends because I could  never invite you into my dishevelled house for a cakie and a cuppa. Which would be devastating for you. I'm pretty awesome, after all. Even if my house isn't.

Clearly, all house work would be at the top of my list of potential out sourcing. Is it one word, or two? Who knows. Whatever. If I never had to scrub a toilet again it would be way too soon for me. Ugh. Especially as I live in a house with four males and we only have one toilet. Because that is how non-cashed up bogans do it.  We don't live in double storey split level Mc Mansions with six bedrooms and four bathrooms.  Fark, imagine having to clean that many bathrooms? Frankly I don't want the Mc Mansion unless it comes with a cleaner as well.

Of course there is also the lovely little problem of Lego. I would love to have a Lego Fairy as well as a House Work and Dinner Fairy. We seem to possess truck loads of the stuff and while I do insist that Mr 5 and 9 pick it up themselves, somehow it has a mind and a will of it's own and still seems to migrate to every possible corner and crevice of the house.

When I'm getting dressed and notice something odd inside my shoe. Lego.

When I ease my weary, aching body into bed of an evening only to find something uncomfortable in my nether regions. Lego.

When I'm frantically searching through my handbag or car for a coin for the trolley at Aldi. What do I find instead? Lego.

When I want to just be able to plug the vacuum cleaner in and give the house a once over. What do I find? A million bloody random tiny pieces of Lego that are inevitably going to be sucked into my brand new 500 hundred dollar Dyson and begin rattling away. Sigh.

Another area of life I wish I could outsource or at the very least, avoid,  is Awkward Conversations With Acquaintances You Don't Know Very Well. You know the kind. The person you might walk past almost everyday during school drop off and pick up. You don't really know them but you still feel obliged to say a polite hello. Then you might mention the weather and how much your children have all grown, at which point you've completely run out of things to say to each other. So you mumble something about how you better get going and flee. Rinse. Repeat. Everyday. Or every other day. Same thing. I am truly awful and hideous but how many times can you have the same banal conversation? Of course, I suppose the only way to get to know people is to actually talk to them but...jeez, don't get all logical on me. Okay, I'm just an anti-social biatch! Deal with it. Hmph.

I would also love to be able to clone myself so that I could outsource all of those horrid, mortifying doctors appointments such as Pap Smears. The only conversation that is more awkward than the ones you have with acquaintances you don't know very well are the ones you have with your GP or Gyno while they have a cold speculum inserted in your doo dah. Look, I was going to go with va jay jay but changed my mind at the last minute. Doo dah it is. Not the technical term but you know what I mean. Shut up.

Which reminds me, I am going to get my tits squashed (ie. Mammogrammed) for the first time next Monday and I expect it shall be not only awkward but frightfully painful. Why don't men have to have their bollocks squashed to buggery? So unfair. I am pausing to pout and sulk a for a little while as weepy violin music swells in the background. Right, sulking ceased. Violin music fades.

On with the show. Other things I wish I could outsource:

Packing: I am a chronic over packer. If there was such a thing as Over Packers Anonymous I would certainly be a member. Plus, I tend to become overly stressed over the whole procedure. Despite extensive list making I always seem to worry that I'll forget something vital.

Cooking: I am constantly waiting for the old Dinner Fairy that never shows up. Sometimes I don't mind cooking but when you have to cook everyday for a family of fussy eaters it becomes a tad tedious. The resulting washing up is even more tedious especially when you don't have a dishwasher. Yep, we're certifiable.

Parent/Teacher Interviews: I sometimes wish I could clone myself for these or outsource them too. For some absurd reason they make me squirm. I somehow feel like I'm back at school doing some sort of exam or test and I'm never sure what questions I'm supposed to ask. Also, I'm embarrassed to admit that I don't understand the boys homework should the subject come up. Mr 12's parent/teacher interviews are coming up and I've suddenly realised that now that he is in High School I'll have to see several different teachers instead of just one. Save me.

Well, there you have it. That's the stuff I would outsource.  I should probably think about outsourcing this  blog too but I won't because it's got my name on it. So ner.

Linking up with Kirsty from My Home Truths for I Must Confess.

                                             
                                                  What areas of your life would you outsource?

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