I used to mull over them on the drive to work, then relay them for the interest ( ? ) of other workers in my area.
Well, it was probably better than some of the phonecalls we got.
Anyhoo, i've been offline battling being in a bad mood due to not getting much sleep, and conjunctivitis in the bigger boy, and perhaps a little in the smaller boy, and being stuck indoors because of it, and cleaning out my junk room to make way for the NEW BATHROOM ( yes, it's booked in ! ), and the onset of Spring always makes me antsy about how weedy the garden is, and how the pantry needs a scrub, and the linen press, and how i'd love to organise the garage, but we're financing the bathroom - so no.
So yesterday, I had a serious chat with the older boy about how.mummy.needs.some.sleep - and he let me sleep in until 9am this morning. So.needed.it.
And i've started ( and abandoned ) a few blogs - about the boy's first ever football (AFL) game as spectators, and then coming back from Geelong to have a quick warm shower and head off to a blog-meet in Richmond ( apol's if I seemed a bit out-of-it ) with Stomps, Fairlie, M from Sydney, Suse, and Frogdancer. Frogdancer actually works at the High School my boys might be attending one day and knows half the people in my street as she used to live across the road. Bizarre.
Other things: well, with the eye-goo level of contagiousness, and the cold weather, and me with a serious case of the BLAHS, the house soon depleted of food as I couldn't be arsed going to the shops. So I ended up getting a Coles Online delivery, and instead of ordering 4 apples for the fruitbowl, I ordered 4x 1.5kg BAGS of apples.
I wondered where that $$ discrepancy was. Oops.
So, being the half-arsed kind of person I am, I started googling for recipes where I didn't have to peel, slice, dice, puree, stew, or basically stuff around with. I found this:
All my apples were Pink Ladys .. which technically aren't cooking apples. Being lazy, i didn't even peel them, and the blush red looked fabulous in the end result. Tasted fabulous too - we had it hot with cream and icecream on the first night, and it was equally as divine cold for breakfast the next day ( *ahem* )
Added bonus: there is a lot of hands-on satisfaction if you have a child like me that lives to cook. He calls me "Chef" in the kitchen, as in "what's next, Chef ?", and "Yes Chef!". He wears his little Chef uniform at all times, and I have to also call him Chef. If I say his name, I get "I not MC, I Chef !". Yes, Sparticus.
It makes cooking a bit of a pain, so I am always trying to think of recipes that involve him as much as possible.
Speaking of recipes, thanks for all the links - I am yet to click on them all, but will let you know how I go and what works best for me, as it seems there's a lot of other people wanting the same thing. It's the Spring thing again I think - time to reinvent, to rejuvinate
What else ?
ah - my dream. The one involving a Willy-Wonka -like ride with The Who and Ringo Starr ( I don't even know what the Who look like ?!?? ), in order to see Macca-Pacca in real life. At one stage, the ride stopped ( no, we weren't on the Ninky-Nonk ), and we excitedly watched a car pull in with a trailer, with an obviously Macca-Pacca shaped form squirming under a drop canvas.
It ended up being some fat guy dressed for a Mardi-Gras ( he looked a bit like David from Little Britain ), and I recall his jubblies being a little too jubblie ( hello, it's a dream, and i'm looking at the crotch of a fat guy wearing leathers .. freaking unreal )
In fact, i'll just stop here to embarrass a real life friend whose workplace doesn't allow her to comment:
I still remember your Gareth Sandwich.
That is all.
And it's ok for me to say that, as no-one else knows the story, the reader, or the guy in the sandwich.
Man, that was a top dream - he was so the last guy you'd want in your sandwich.
That is all.
