On the Home Front

Does any other front matter?

Went on my Wednesday "therapy walk" with the lovely L. Much cheaper than a psychotherapist.

Now it's a little cooler I let hubby mow the lawn. I'm generous like that. Although people were starting to think it was a meth house. 

There are very few things that gratify a man like a mowed lawn. Simple creatures.

The pool took an hour to clean after the apocalyptic weather of the other night. 

In reassuring news the vine I struck from the demolished part of the original house has survived two heat waves and a wind storm. I'm starting to think it may be of the triffid variety. 

I'm not sure about you, but nothing feels my heart with joy like a heap of mouldy beach towels on the kids' bathroom floor. Pure, unadulterated joy I tell you. 

Into quinoa at the moment. I'm told it's pronounce keen-waa, how very pretentious and Gwyneth of me.

It may be pretentious but it's easy peasy. Put it in a pot 1/3 quinoa 2/3 water, simmer for 10 minutes, drain with cold water and add whatever tickles your fancy. This one has grated carrot, bocconcini, cucumber, tuna, rocket, olive oil and lemon juice.

It might be cooler but it's still hot here. It's got me feeling a vibe for Ms Hick's Caribbean style.

The Windy City

Weights yesterday. I'm at 4 kilos (8 altogether). Pathetic I know, but at least I'm trying. 

The City of Adelaide is on her way home.

She hasn't aged well. I'm feeling her pain. 

We had some more biblical weather the other day. Winds of 90 - 100km and over 80,000 people without power. It was all very dramatic, and if I'm honest a little scary. 

I felt particularly bad for this poor fellow. He parked his wood-chipper out on the street ready for the influx of work the next day, then a tree went and fell on it. You would hope he has a good sense of humour. 

Praise the powers that be that no one was killed.

This is our only damage. A pine tree branch that blew onto the tennis court. We have a HUGE 100+ year old gum right above our bedroom window so to say we feel fortunate would be an understatement. 

I'm onto the baked eggs. Avoiding the carbs you know. 

Get two eggs, some bocconcini, basil and tomatoes or feta and avocado. Whack into a greased heat proof bowl, beat it lightly and cook for 15 - 20 minutes. 

Delish.

Feeling some Olivia today.  

Have a fabulous day.

Mere Ramblings

Well I hauled my fat arse out for a run today.

I cut a sad figure I can tell you, but I kept Footloose on repeat for the entire 8 minutes - it got me over the line. 

I can still do the Footloose dance, admittedly only after 40 whiskeys and possibly not as well as it's happening in my head.

After 17 years I'm still hiding vegies in the pasta sauce. Today I managed to sneak in a zucchini, 2 carrots, 3 red peppers and a squash, all courtesy of an old croatian fellow who has an incredible vegie patch and a generous soul. 

If only they knew.

The gladys put up a gallant effort but the heat was too much. I really should throw them out but that is far too much effort in this biblical weather. I'm expecting the locusts any day.

I'm feeling this ensemble of Ms Kerr's for tomorrow's school run. It's a riveting life I lead I tell you. 

Sunday, Bloody Hot Sunday ...

Another crazy Sunday.

Husband engaged in pool safety education.

Myself and the bestie started Feb fast.

We finished quickly thereafter.

After breaking the drought I found the bestie in the pool in snorkelling gear and flippers. I'm yet to receive an explanation.

I cooked this.

Jamie Oliver's sausage panzanella. It was ok. I'll give it a B-. 

The tennis court continues its long, painful, expensive road to death.

The sky teased us with cloud despite remaining a muggy 44 degrees. Perhaps an eligible excuse for the breaking Feb fast?

As for school lunches. Sunday is hubby's night so the kids will probably get a peanut butter sandwich (despite the "no nuts" policy) and a three week old apple.

I am told it takes 21 days for a child to starve to death, which is somewhat reassuring.

And in dressing for the school run tomorrow - I'm feeling Ms Moore.