Wednesday, March 31, 2010
For those foreigners who read this and don't know, a lamington is a sponge cake covered in chocolate icing and then rolled in coconut. They used to be big fundraisers back when I was in promary school (before Cadbury cornered the market with their cocaine laced Freddos ;-) lol) and since there were three of us, Mum would usually put in an order with each class. So the end result was quite a few boxes of lamingtons all arriving at the same time. So they wouldn't go stale we would freeze them and now it's just habit to do that. What makes it even more special is if they're raspberry ones!
My Mum was a champion darts player and so from the time we were tall enough to throw a dart without missing the board, we were playing. It used to be a family affair too - uncles and aunties and cousins would all converge on our place and we'd play in teams. Many a New Years Eve was spent playing darts and ringing in the New Year with a game of Burma Road.
* John Forest National Park and Fred Jacoby Park.
Dad took us out to many, many places when we were little but these two really stick in my mind. Whenever we go there now for a bbq or just a wander about it always brings back memories of Dad and all the fun we had there. My sisters have always enjoyed taking their kids there too since we all want them to have the same happy memories of those places as we do.
*Coke and salt and vinegar chips.
When we lived in Roebourne the hub of the social scene was The Club, basically the pub with a family area so kids were allowed. It was at the front of a large oval and it had an old concrete skating rink and an even older steam train for us kids to play on. Mum and Dad would head down to the club, Dad for a quiet drink, Mum for the darts and us kids would get a baby can of Coke and a bag of Samboy S&V chips and we'd run off and play with the other prison officer brats. Whenever I have that combination it always brings back memories of the Roebourne Club.
*Indoor potted palms. I spent a substantial amount of my childhood in the Roebourne hospital, usually bed ridden and awfully sick. But when I'd start to get better I would get very ansty at being kept in bed and would want to go and play. Hospitals however are not generally equipped with great play areas and so when they would allow me out of bed I would head down to a small waiting room area between the X Ray room and the ward where there was a small atrium full of potted plams. It wasn't a playground but it gave me a quiet, out of the way area in which I could stretch my legs and be free of my bed for a little while.
*Corned beef and AFL.
I don't know why but it always seemed that Mum would cook a corned beef on a Saturday at exactly the same time as Dad was watching the footy. I just always remember the feel of the house when those two things combined, the smell of the beef cooking and the sounds of the tv mixed with the busy but relaxed feel of the place on a Saturday when no one was rushing off to work but we were all home at once. The weird thing is, it was never a very comfortable feel. I don't know why, maybe it's because I don't like AFL but it always made me feel slightly on edge.
There are many many more but I just can't think of them at the moment. What about you? Is there any particular object or scent or song that reminds you of your childhood? I'd love to know.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
-340g pkt golden buttercake mix
-1 cup (90g) desiccated coconut
-125g butter, melted
-400g can apple pieces
-300g sour cream
-1 tsp cinnamon (I've also used nutmeg or mixed spice, whichever you prefer)
Preheat the oven to 180°C. Grease a 20cm square cake pan. Line base and the two opposite sides with baking paper, extending the paper 5cm over edge of pan.
Combine cake mix, coconut and butter in a medium bowl. Press mixture evenly over base of prepared pan. Cook for 15 mins, or until lightly browned. Cool slightly.
Spread apple evenly over base, then spread sour cream evenly over apple and sprinkle with cinnamon or nutmeg. Cook for further 20 mins, or until sour cream has set.
Cool in pan. Cut the slice into fingers to serve.
If you like quite a thick base, you can always double the cake mix part, also if you want a variation I've also used peaches or apricots.
Just a note - the first time I made this I was going by very hazy recollections of a recipe handed to me word of mouth and made the mistake of actually making the cake mix up as per the instructions on the mix packet and baking it. You actually just put the *dry* mix in a bowl and combine it with coconut and melted butter...
-One packet of Chevups (I use the normal ones but you could use the chilli ones if you wanted)
-One onion, chopped
-One carrot, chopped and pre-cooked until just tender
-Beans (however many you want, about a cup though)
-Peas and corn (same as above, I use frozen)
-Devilled sausage mix
-One tub of tomato paste
1. Cook Chevups in fry pan until done. Whilst the sausages are cooking, pre-cook the carrots until just tender.
2. Cut Chevups into quarters (bite size pieces), add onion, stir until brown, then add remaining vegetables.
3. Mix Devilled Sausage mix with tub of tomato paste and 1 1/2 cups of water and then add to sausages. Cook on low until sauce thickens.
You can also use normal sausages if you'd like but I prefer the spices in the Chevups. You can serve with mashed potato if you need to stretch the meal further or do what I do and use some fresh buttered bread to mop up the leftover gravy. Yum!
Apple and Peach Crumble
- One large tin of pie apples (roughly 400gms)
- One large tin of peaches, drained
- 6 tablespoons of self raising flour
- 5 tablespoons of fine desiccated coconut
- 5 tablespoons of brown sugar
- 2 tablespoons of butter
1. Layer apple and peaches in a medium sized but deep baking dish (I use a round casserole dish for this)
2. In a mixing bowl add dry ingredients and then rub in the butter. The above ingredients are from a recipe I have doubled and then modified. I doubled it because there wasn't enough crumble to really cover the apples and I took out some coconut and added a little more sugar. Add and subtract ingredients until you get a crumble you like.
3. Spread crumble over apple and peaches and bake in a moderate over (180C) for 20-30 minutes or until topping is golden brown. Serve either warm or cold with custard or icecream (or both!).
Monday, March 15, 2010
AND SHAKE YOUR BUM!!!
*cough* Sorry bout that...a conversation I had with Boo yesterday involved my old neighbour who used to play his music so loud that it sounded like it was being played in my house. One of Andy's favourite songs to play was The Chicken Dance...do I really need any further explanation? lol
Unfortunately, Andy passed away last August. I say unfortunately because although his music drove me wild (mainly due to the fact that he would play the same song over and over for hours) the new neighbours are complete and utter ferals.
And that is the nicest possible thing I can say about them.
I think it's three generations of the same family - grandmother, mother, kids, and due to the slight elevation of our block and their impressive vocal projection abilities, their arguments (of which there are many) sound like they are taking place in my lounge room.
And when I say feral, I really do mean feral. Who speaks to their children (or any child for that matter) thus : 'You stupid f*#king little c#*t, get your f*#king arse in the house right now or I will make you curse the f*#king day you were f*#king born'???
Ferals I tell you! Only ferals!
I curse the day that these people were allowed to breed!
They yell and scream and swear all day and night, till the wee hours of the morning, and there is never a respite unless they have gone out. It's state housing and although I have nothing against people who need state housing to survive (my older sister has lived before in state housing and is on the waiting list for another place) these people just ooze the stereotype. None of them appear to have any form of employment which leads me to believe that my hard earned taxes are going towards not only paying their rent but also paying for the cigarettes they smoke one after the other, the booze they consume only to leave the empties littering their yard and also, judging again from the rubbish carpeting their front lawn, the sheer quantities of fast food they consume.
Yet again, I don't have a problem that my taxes go towards helping those in need, even these people in particular, but I just wish that they had been placed elsewhere. I really don't want to have to hear every conversation and every argument at top volume, I really don't. And I have proof that they can be heard as far away as Scotland! Just ask Boo!
Alas, I know I should confront them and ask them politely to keep the noise down but I must admit I am too chicken shit to even try. I fear I would be either a) beaten to a pulp or b) wake one day to find my car and front yard trashed. I guess these are the perils of living in a slightly dodgy suburb.
Anyway, onto more enjoyable matters...
It's four months tomorrow that I leave for Scotland! Yay!
I seriously cannot wait, I am so excited. I'm probably driving everyone batty over here because I've been going on and on about it so much. But I don't care because I am so very very excited!
I will try not to bore you all to tears with it now and will leave it at this, but I just needed to release a burst of excitement lol.
I had a very weird dream last night that I had broken my mobile phone and I was running around and around trying to get it fixed and worrying because I couldn't return messages. I guess it's a reflection on just how much I rely on that little piece of plastics and electronics but honestly, I don't think I could live without it. I would go insane. I am truly a child of the electronic age.
Easter is just around the corner...mmmmmm, Easter eggs. Nom nom nom. For the first time EVER I was going to go away with my family for the long weekend. My nightfill shifts are Friday and Monday nights and so due to public holidays I was going to actually have the entire weekend off. We've never gone away before over the long weekend and it was something that my sisters and I had been talking about. Unfortunately Barb didn't realise we were actually that interested and booked a camping site for just her family and Jo wanted to go down to Wave Rock and invited Christian and I along but it's just not going to happen. Christian's aunty has been diagnosed with Gall Bladder cancer and it's very advanced and so I think we're just going to spend as much time as we can with his family.
And on a final, happy note, April sees the return of some of my favourite tv shows! SGU, Glee, Doctor Who just to name a few. Yay!
(Note - for some reason Blogger is screwing with my font size, sorry if this looks weird)
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Whilst looking around for ideas for a birthday present for Darcie, Christian came across this online.
It's essentially a high tech version of what we already have. We figured that it would be a great thing to get for all of the kids to play with here and so Christian ordered it from Deal Extreme, a dodgy Chinese site that has free postage. Other exciting purchases from there include piggy LED keyrings, a line of LEDs for our patio and a cute necklace.
So it arrived today and although we haven't had the excitement of putting it together as yet, we have derived many minutes of entertainment from the box.
I just love bad Chinese translations, don't you? ;-)
Here are my favourites...(oh, the spelling, spacing and punctuation are directly quoted!)
'SPACE RAIL is a suit-toy which could be assembled freedom with its base, shaft and rail. the steel ball could run on the two lines sometimes snail and sometimes scour, it is for adult playing indoor.
How to play the SPACE RAIL:For the loop-rail installed already.It just need take little time to adjust the corner of railto ready the rail.
It will bring the sweetness and exciting feeling of the SPACE RAIL word to you although it just for playing indoor.'
'The primary mold for the beginner.
For the loop rail assembled already, it just only need little time to ajust corner parts to finish loading the novel SPACE RAIL mold
(average time: about 90120 minutes)'
Only a little time???
Now that you have a clearer idea of what the SPACE RAIL is, it's very important to take into consideration SAFETY!
'*Please don't put your fingers to the elevator when it on running to avoid hurting accident.
*Please don't put any article except the steel ball into the elevator to avoid breaking it or falling off
*Please don't force the motor to stopping to avoid scalding or other risk caused by the overheat of motor or battery
-Caution: the battery would appear overheat, blow out or leak risk for misusing.
*Once (Not if - ONCE lol) the battery liquid spurt into the eyes, please washing it with clean water at once or ask help from doctor
*Please don't use the rechargable battery'
'Please don't cumber the elevator (motor) running when the power offering to avoid risk caused by the overheat motor'
Once we have the SPACE RAIL built and running, I shall post photos and/or video of the finished product. If this is the last you hear of the SPACE RAIL, then it must be assumed that we could not follow the instructions or due to a catastrophic overheat we are dead or seriously maimed.
Tuesday, March 09, 2010
The other day I was at the dodgy local shopping centre and was leaving Woolworths when I passed a booth that had been set up in the middle of the mall (and when I say 'mall' I mean the open space in front of the supermarket as our dodgy centre is tiny. I just didn't want to confuse any Americans...). A toy tiger caught my eye and I stopped to have a look. Christian absolutely loves tigers and if I ever run across anything tigerish I try and pick it up for him.
It was only eight bucks and so I got it for him and took it home, eager to surprise him.
He laughed his head off when he saw it.
I think he's quite realistic and scary looking, would you not agree???
However, Christian just couldn't get past the tiger's mouth.
'Whatever is wrong with it?' I hear you ask, as I did.
Well, apparently, his mouth is too pink and gummy to make him look as ferocious as he should.
And I suppose Christian has a point...
Anyway, I sat Mr Tiger on the bookcase and the following day I asked Christian if he would scare any the ladies coming to my Tupperware party and, if so, I should probably move him.
The following conversation took place.
Christian - 'Ahhhh...no.'
Me - 'But he's so scary looking and frightening!'
C - 'Yeah, there's no possible way in the world that he is going to scare anyone.'
M - 'How about a dentist?'
C - 'The rest of him is so realistic, how could they have stuffed up so much on the mouth?'
M - 'Yes, well, apparently 'they' don't know what a reindeer looks like either...'
C - 'It's just he has this big baboon mouth. He should be called a Babiger! *cue majestic voice* he has the body of a tiger and the head of a baboon! Everyone flee from the Babiger!'
M - Yes, the Babiger, the latest monster straight from Ancient Greek Mythology! His terrifying gums will have you flossing every night!'
*Much giggling as I take Mr Tiger and chase Christian around the room*
Note - Spell checker really does not like the word 'Babiger' much...
Sunday, March 07, 2010
(You know who I like? That pickle stork. You know...the one with the pickles...no? *cough* sorry, I thought a little Frisky Dingo early on may lighten this post a little...)
Anyhoo...so, the dilemma...first, some things you should know (if you don't already).
- I was sexually abused as a child.
- My mother was sexually abused as a child.
-My uncle has just been released from prison for sexually abusing a child.
Ok, so basically several years ago my uncle was caught molesting a child he was babysitting.
My mother was extremely upset, as you can imagine and basically disowned him. Having being abused as a girl, she was horrified he could do anything like that, especially when he'd seen first hand the lifelong damage it causes.
However, it was left up to my mother to become the executor of his estate so she could ensure that his daughters (late teens) would be cared for. During the course of this time my mother spoke to my uncle regularly and came to understand his remorse for his actions. He had refused bail so he would be removed from temptation and he eagerly attended courses and counselling whilst in prison to learn to cope with the compulsion he felt (one of which actually meant an extension of his sentence so he could attend as it was only held at a regional prison).
When he was released, my mother was there for him and helped him get on his feet again. Both of my sisters have refused to have anything to do with him but apart from a quick glance at the shops, I had yet to have any contact with him that forced that decision upon me.
Then a couple of weeks ago, I received a request via Facebook that was from someone I didn't know with a message attached. It was actually from my uncle, explaining that he was using a different name and just to see how I was.
I was torn. Having been abused, I felt a lot of anger towards him, and I didn't think it was my place to offer forgiveness - it wasn't me he had wronged so I can't grant that.
On the other hand, it must be hard, trying to rehabilitate into society when society isn't allowing you the chance to prove you've reformed.
And so I debated about it for a while and finally decided to accept him on FB.
Of course, I'm not a complete dimwit. I did go and edit all my security settings so he has no access to any of my photos, only very very basic information. At the end of the day I may be trying to help him reform but the well being of my nieces and nephews comes first.
I told my sisters what had happened and what precautions I had taken and they reacted in rather the manner I was expecting. Basically they flipped out. They feel a lot of hate towards him and don't want me to have anything to do with him. I had to assure them of the precautions I had taken to prevent them from de-friending me.
But the way I see it...both my sisters have a lot of friends on Facebook (until a week ago when some glitch went and deleted a heap of Barb's friends, she had over 350! ). Just how well can you know 350 people??? At least with my uncle, we're aware of his past and can take the measures to ensure the safety of not just the kids in my family, but also that of children of our friends (and by this I obviously don't mean physical safety, but the safe use of any photos on FB). But any one of those 350 people could be dodgy, you just never know and they have complete access to Barb's profile and photos. So in this case I really feel it's better the devil you know...
And ultimately I really, honestly hope that the man who abused me has been given this chance by someone out there who has faith in him. Because if he hasn't, that means he's still out there, still a potential threat and for all I know, subjecting other little girls to the same fate as me.
So, what do you think? Have I done the right thing? Or do you agree with my sisters and think I should delete him and have nothing to do with him?
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
A couple of weeks ago I was suffering from a bout of low self esteem (as per usual) and started pondering the whole self image idea and how I am perceived by others and how I would like to be perceived and then it just moved generally onto the concept of what is attractive and how people view attractive people.
That got a bit rambly, sorry.
Anyway, I thought about this for a while and for once tried to be quite objective about it. I get very depressed and it generally revolves around my body image and so for once I tried to identify why this means so much to me. I didn't actually come to any forgone conclusions regarding that but I did come to this conclusion - bigger women are never described as beautiful
(and I say women because I am one and I am not going to attempt to dissect the problems men have with their body image here today). And I know they say 'Big is beautiful' but we all know that fat women came up with that logo to make ourselves feel better about ourselves...
I'm not saying that there aren't attractive larger people out there, but when people describe those of us who are fatter than the norm, beautiful isn't a word that crops up generally (and I'm putting myself in this category based on my BMI, clothing size and those things in your head called eyes).
Following is a list of words that, in my experience, tend to be used when describing a bigger person of above average looks...
It seems that when people use the word 'beautiful' to describe someone, they are taking into account the whole package. It's someone who has a great figure, great hair, gorgeous eyes, nice skin, a sense of style, perfect posture and poise, are graceful, you know, the whole kit and kaboodle.
Bigger people don't seem to ever have the 'whole package' (except to those few people who defy the norm and fall head over heels in love with us and therefore they are biased)
Instead, if given a compliment it generally refers to a specific feature.
For example I have been complimented on -
*My boobs (on the sheer basis that they are large enough to exert their own gravitational pull)
*My eyes (apparently some people find beady little black eyes nice. I on the other hand wish I had that gorgeous green that both my sisters were blessed with)
*My teeth (The orthodontist promised me that two years of braces would pay off one day)
*My hair (when I actually try it can be quite soft and in winter when it gets damp from the drizzle little ringlets form and frame my face)
*My calves (especially when I've been gyming but even when not I seem to have well defined calf muscles. Above the knee it's cellulite hell)
Now I'm not saying that being called pretty or attractive isn't nice - it is! But at heart every woman wants to be told she's beautiful, and not just during sex because we all know those times don't count! Little girls long to grow up from the ugly duckling into the beautiful swan, teenage girls wish they would be plucked from obscurity by an undercover modelling agent who can see dormant beauty waiting to be discovered, older women want to be those perfect women we see on the cover of magazines and in movies. It's just a fact that every woman want to feel special and beautiful.
What is your experience with this? Are you bigger than normal but get told you're beautiful every day? Or have you come to the same conclusion? Or are you a normal sized person who thinks that bigger women can be beautiful. Or are you just one of those nice people that think beauty is within and no matter what you look like, if you have a beautiful personality that will shine through? Let me know, I'm interested to hear what you have to say.