Swings and roundabouts

I thought I was going to tell you today about all the near misses and dud aspects of my weekend which was a real roller coaster. I was going to tell you about all the disappointing meals I ate and the stories that I thought were going to turn out great but ended up shit (including, but not limited to said disappointing meals). But I'm a lover not a fighter and who needs to start the week off like that. And in fact mostly my weekend was really nice.

On Friday night we went to the pub for Minderbinder's birthday. And it was so nice to go to the pub and see people and eat a yummy burger (though not the disappointing "chips". Ugh. Regrets - I've got a few). And for a gal that doesn't get out much all I need is 2 hours, a few nice people and a beer to feel like I'm doing something. Doesn't hurt that I rounded the night out watching Graham Norton which at first seemed somewhat, though not entirely boring  (Kevin Bacon, Jessica Chastain and Dianne Keaton as guests) until Norton brought out a late comer, Michael Fassbender! Who was not only his regular handsome smiling and delightful self but added some break dancing to his visit. THIS was followed by the GORILLAZ and the show ended with DAMON on the couch. Now sure, I'm talking about Graham Norton's couch, not my couch, still, I think as far as TV viewing goes, I couldn't ask for much better. To round this all out Noel Gallagher performed with Gorillaz. On Saturday I excitedly tried to tell LB about Noel and Damon on stage together but he just looked as me as if the nineties had never happened and when I tried to explain the Blur vs. Oasis saga of the heady days of Brit Pop he told me, "Yeah, I know who Oasis is, 'What's the morning, morning glory' right?"

On Saturday I had a really nice day spending some with my children leaving them with my parents and walking the streets of Armadale and Prahran and despite ending up busting and then having to use the worst toilet in Prahran

and another disappointing eating experience all the walking and sunshine and lack of external demands was really invigorating.

Yesterday I took Newbie out for breakfast. Even though I spend bulk time with him, Little Bean is always with us and our schedule revolves around Baby, even in his absence, so it was pretty sweet just to go out together, have a 'cino, read some books, eat an entirely, almost overwhelmingly, satisfying meal (mouth watering thinking about it now - it was the smoked creamed corn at Mixed Business if you're in the market for a great breaky). And after that great meal it almost doesn't matter that I spent most of the day prepping a dinner I expected to be fantastic but was a complete fucking failure (potatoes aside - which barely counts because they are almost unruinable). From mains to dessert it was all a disaster and a pretty disappointing way to end the weekend I guess. But that's life, right? You win some you lose some and I think that the past weekend was basically a metaphor for life.

Satisfaction (AM)

*

The beauty of having low expectations is that it is easy to feel like you nailed the shit out of a day without having to have achieved much at all.

Take yesterday for example. Woke up in the morning with no milk or bread or yoghurt in the house. But I did have the ingredients for ricotta pancakes which I made and served with berries and lemon and sugar. Sunday breakfast - nailed the shit out of it! 

After breakfast and putting the dishwasher and washing machine on (!) I took the kids to the park before the rains came, then sent Baby on a play date and did painting with Newbie. Parenting - nailed it!

I maintained a fairly clean house and put the laundry away. Also because there was left over pasta sauce in the fridge I didn't have to spend anytime cooking. Housekeeping - nailed it! 

I washed my hair. Grooming - nailed it!

I sat around and looked at dumb shit on my phone when LB and the kids went to the supermarket. Relaxing - nailed it!

I even had milk and bread in the house by the end of the day. Sunday - fucking nailed it! 

Seriously you guys, if you set your sights low enough you can achieve anything!!!!

*I guess you could say Mick Jagger has nothing to do with this post. And you'd be right, but why not, ay?

Down time revisited (AM)

You know how five days ago K and I were all "Ugh I can't wait for some down time! I've got no distance left to run!" Well I have found this past weekend incredibly reviving and frankly I feel pretty great. Here let me give you some simple tips:

1. If possible start the weekend by seeing one of your favourite musicians perform. If this person also happens to be one of your favourite hunks more the better! 

K and I very successfully did this when we went to see Damon Albarn on Friday night. He was totally rad and everything I dreamed of and more and the only bad thing I can say about the experience is that I can't do it all the time. 

2. Spend time with friends. Eat ice cream. Saturday afternoon was really hot but I had a lovely afternoon at K's new joint and finished off the afternoon getting ice cream with Pickle and Steven Jameson. Ice cream is really good in the heat. I got nectarine sorbet. So refreshing.

3. Ditch your family. I love my boyfriend and my children very, very much but I'm pretty sure the fact LB and Baby were away for 24 hours and I managed to clean the house and lie around was pretty integral to my rejuvenation.

4. Shirk responsibility. After a discussion with K, I suggested to Chutney Club that instead of making and exchanging chutneys at our Christmas gathering we should all just get together and have a good time. After another discussion with K we decided that this will be the last week of Miss Soft Crab for the year! Responsibilities shirked, down time in reach. 

Acrostic Monday (PM)

When you don't work

Every day is the same

Every day is the same

Know there's more out there

Every day is the same 

No. Other people work

Dependable friends show you the way

Suddenly weekend's a weekend 

Big Easy Eating (PM)

It's lucky for me I don't eat dead land animals because I would be totally jealous of all that good eating in New Orleans. As it is I'm pretty jealous of the jazz and Mississippi and I'm not even into jazz. Lucky for me also that I can imagine just what that Bacchanal restaurant is like because it looks just like a restaurant at Disneyland but instead of eating by the Mississippi you eat by the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. Most lucky for me though is that Chutney Club happened this weekend down at Flinders and instead of the usual 4 or so hours of eating with my BFFs I got to eat for 24 hours with them with ocean views (K's absence not withstanding).

This 24-hour Chutney Club made me so relaxed I forgot to take any pictures. Except of the view. 

Luckily Pickle was acting as official club photographer though. We had a roaring fire and sat in a wood-panelled sitting room and, as everyone knows, that's the best way to enjoy beachside living in winter. 

We ate: preserved lemons that Blizzie had made and cooked into some delicious baked beans served with Persian feta on toast. And it was the effing bomb!

Then: rice paper rolls with the pickled pineapple David made. 

And: my apple jelly. First served on a failed brioche I made which, although it did not turn out as brioche, did turn out some weird dense buttery bread-like thing which was a perfect host for apple jelly, and then on crackers with blue cheese. 

Next: Pickle's pickled mushrooms with a generous serve of Meredith goats feta on toast. 

And finally: Legsly and Miguel's rhubarb and apple jam on toast. Actually that wasn't the final chut but more on that later. 

The fact that it was a sleep over meant there was no rushing through the food or gorging on cheese. In fact the grazing cheese platter wasn't even brought out until after the official Chutney Club proceedings were over. The suggestion of fish and chips was brought out not long after that. Cray cray you say say? I thought it was crazy too but I wasn't going to say no and I have to say that it wasn't the worst way to end the day. Well, F,Cs and a game of Danish Bowl. 

You may have noticed (as if!)  that a chutney was missing from the afternoon event  and that's because Biggie Little made marmalade to be served with pancakes on Sunday morning. Those guys didn't even stay over! They just left marmalade and pancake batter! What guests!!! These were enjoyed with some bacon and scrambled eggs that Biz served up and I think you can tell that a wonderful time was had by all. 

Chutney Club's first weekender made me ask my self two questions. Why haven't we done this before?!? And, when can we do it again?!?

Instagram and me (AM)

I'm always writing to K telling her to get on Instagram so she can see pictures like this:

This:

This: 

and this:

It's possible she's joined secretly but she's missing out by not following me because my account is pretty good. 

Ok, it seems better in Instagram. 

Of course the downside of Instagram for a modern girl like me is that I also follow a bunch of food-related IG accounts and while some are harmless enough, others are nothing but trouble. I'm looking at you dough-based businesses of Melbourne! 

Friday before last I tried All Day Donuts because their Instagram account promised delicious things. And  their Instagram account was right to make that promise. And then last Friday I saw this picture:

And I effing went back and tried them again. I don't know if you can read those signs but they include 'rose creme' and 'strawberry cheesecake'! Strawberry cheesecake! That is two of the world's best things together in a donut! Shiiiit!

And just when I was thinking about how Instagram was going to get me fat it told me about the Flour Market. A meeting of the great dough makers of Melbourne just blocks from my house. So what did I do on Sunday? Guess. 

Well you're only half right. Because me and every hipster dough-lover of Melbourne was lining up to get a piece of the dough. And  in fact as I'd been walking to the Flour Market I was already  questioning why I was out of the house before 10am on a Sunday just to buy doughs I could buy some other time not in a hall full of people, so you can bet when I saw the queue I just got the hell out of there. 

But it was great, up on a sunny blue-skied winter morning walking around, we caught the tram to the city and walked around there which is quite delightful on a Sunday morning. Went to the market where I bought apples in preparation for next week's chutney club and I was home by 1pm feeling super productive. I thought Instagram was making me fat but it's just making me awesome! Another win for me and Instagram! 

In praise of Sundays (AM)

As a kid I didn't really go in for Sundays. Who wanted to go to school on Monday?  That's all Sunday meant to me.  When I'd hear the song 'Manic Monday' (which I heard a lot as a kid) and the Bangles would sing "I wish it was Sunday, that's my fun day," I just thought it was a bunch of total fucking nonsense.  Whose fun day is Sunday? But that was when I was a kid and I think one of the things that characterises  that time is that you're always thinking about the future. Childhood, although it feels like it goes on forever at the time, seems so temporary. You know you're going to grow up, that things change all the time, I think that's why it's so hard to live in the moment, you're always thinking about what's next. And that's why Sundays used to suck so hard, you knew Monday was so effing close. 

But now  I'm a grown up, with a grown up's desire to avoid thinking about the future too much and the daily aging and edging towards old age. And that, I think, is how I learned to love Sundays. 

In fact I remember the moment my feelings changed. I was having a beer at a pub on a Sunday afternoon, maybe 6 or 8 years ago and I realised how nice it was to be at the pub on a Sunday afternoon. It means that your boring shit for the weekend is done. Or it's not and you've decided not to care. It means that you're really using the weekend to its full advantage, wringing all the fun out of it till the last moment. What a joy! Of course I don't get that joy out of Sundays at the pub now. I mean it's nice, but with kids afternoon drinking just is not the same. I still love Sundays though. 

I love that they feel like a free day. Anything you do on a Sunday feels like a bonus. And usually I have time to cook a nice meal. And usually that meal is fish and roast potatoes and salad but I love that meal so who cares if I eat it most Sundays. I love how if you get some of your business done you feel so on top of things. Last night I went to the supermarket after dinner AND I sent some freelance work back to the client, so now I feel like my my work is all done. The house isn't even that messy. And because it was all on Sunday everything just felt better than on any other day. Oh sure, if I'd had a shitty day yesterday I may not be singing the praises of Sunday. Let's face it if you don't get shit done on Sunday and everything is all out of wack, Sundays suck it. But that's the thing about highs right? They're nothing without lows. 

I might have thought about the future a lot as a kid but I never would have thought that growing up would make me understand The Bangles. 

What happens on a weekend (AV*)

Welsh cakes in the pan

Well shit you guys, I thought I had a great weekend until I read about K's. And now it seems lame. Lucky for you guys when you read about my weekend you'll probably realise from the start it was lame. It started on Saturday morning at Pickle and Minderbinder's place. Pickle made shakshuka for brunch and Milo developed a way to wrap Baby in a blanket and spin him around and around and around on the parquetry which mean I could just sit and talk to Pickle while Newbie slept. It pretty much ruled. In the afternoon Russeth dropped by and because I had thought of little else since K first told me about Welsh cakes I handed Russeth a recipe and suggested he should make us some Welsh cakes. Which he did! On Saturday night I ate a felafel from Jimmy Grants, watched some 30 Rock I hadn't seen and put clean sheets on my bed. Then lights out at 10. I felt so god damned happy with that day. Lame.

Yesterday was not as exciting. It involved a trip to the market (not farmer's), flowers, cheese, cleaning the house and a dinner of roast potatoes, slaw and fish. Lame. But awesome. But no naps or castles or pubs. Lame. But I guess I can't spend the next six months feeling sorry for myself every time K sees a castle or I'll never get anything done.  

*Australian version

What happens on a weekend (WE*)

Yesterday, J asked me in an email what happens in a Welsh weekend. Instead of answering her, I ignored her email and decided to write this instead. Here's what happens Matey!

My first weekend in Wales I went to two farmers markets and bought a bunch of cheese, bacon, some duck, some sausages some vegetables and naturally, some Welsh Cakes.

Don't know what Welsh cakes are? Don't worry, they will get their very own post in due course. All that stuff is long gone now, consumed during the course of the week. It was a great weekend, but it belongs to history. Now, let's focus on this weekend.

On Saturday morning we awoke early in order to catch the train to nearby Chepstow. We heard they have a farmers market and also a castle so we thought what the heck, let's go go Chepstow. It's only half an hour away on the train. In Wales, that's like going to Ballarat or something.

Turns out their farmers market is just three stalls in the car park of a senior citizens centre. So going to Ballarat might have been better. Until we saw their castle. Oh my goodness their castle is the real deal. It was built 1000 years ago and is in ruin now but heck you guys, castles be impressive. If a little chilly.

After wandering around the castle for a while we went to The Boat Inn for a pint and a lunch. I got the venison burger with Stilton and Appleheart got the fish and chips, and jolly good they both were.
It was very cold and we were feeling very tired so we caught the train home and had a cup of tea, some chocolate digestive biscuits then a little nap. In the evening we were still full from lunch so we just had more tea and digestives for dinner, watched grand designs and went to bed.

Then Sunday rolled around. I woke up early because I'd basically been sleeping since  4pm the day before. It was a beautiful crisp but sunny morning. Unbelievable! The mornings are grey here you see . I went for a jog along the river Taff then felt smug for the rest of the morning. Our only plan for the day was to go to a pub called Y Mochyn Du for Sunday lunch. I love how they have Sunday lunch here even though I can't pronounce the names of the pubs where they have it. Well, I can't pronounce Y Mochyn Du. 

We ate Sunday roast, drank a pint and watched Liverpool beat Manchester City which was is something Appleheart likes to do. It was lovely, but it was cold and we were very tired, so when we got home we had a cup of tea and  some chocolate digestive biscuits. One thing led to another and before you know it, we were napping. A nap from which I have just woken up, and woken to discover an email from J asking what Welsh weekends are like. Like this! Like this.

*Welsh edit. I was going to call it 'welsh edition' but then I thought of Welsh edit would be funnier because it's something GOOP would say and she is so annoying.

Thanks Easter (PM)

The gift of a four-day weekend is a truly great thing. Each day fills you with this feeling that anything is possible and if you eff up this day there is another one just around the corner with which you can right the wrongs of the previous day. Luckily I pretty much nailed every one of the last four days. Also, I confirmed some things too!

Nature is a delight and walking through it is the best!

Despite its somewhat off-putting name, fish pie really is delicious!

Puppies are adorable!

Thanks Easter! And thanks to all the Easter miracles that made for a great weekend!

Thanks Easter (AM)

The gift of a four day weekend is a precious, precious thing.  Thanks to Easter, I had time to confirm that:

slow cooking a lamb for five hours is the best way to eat lamb.

Pickle knows how to spilt and toast hot cross buns real nice

reviewing the yield from an easter egg hunt is enjoyable

riding the Capital City trail is ace, exhausting fun. 

Thanks Easter. Important lessons to learn, I think. 

Hey! Where'd that mood come from? (AM)

Yesterday I was horrified to find out that even though I felt perfectly happy and had a really nice day, I must have been in a secret bad mood. It all started when I saw a car with a bumper sticker that said 'FLUORIDE there's poison in your water'. There was a picture of a drop with a skull in it. Usually that would make me think 'HAHAHA. Idiot,' but instead I thought 'UGH! IDIOT!' Then when LB pointed out the driver was smoking a cigarette I thought, 'OMG YOU EFFING IDIOT I'M PRETTY SURE THAT EFFING CIGARETTE IS FULL OF EFFING POISONS!!!!'

Later I saw a billboard advertising a radio show. Let’s call it 'Kughesy and Hate'. In it, as in every photo ever taken of her, Hate has really bad hair and I thought 'OMG Hate, didn't you have a stylist for that giant billboard photo shoot! GET A REAL HAIR STYLE'. Then I thought 'Gee, why am I so angry?!’

And later, when Blogger wouldn’t let me write my post, there was this:

Obviously I'm referring to the second message only. I'm clearly delighted in the first one.

I guess I was just really tired from lying on the beach in the sun all day.

We went climbing (PM)

Let me say straight up that I only agreed to go rock climbing because I have a hard time saying no to Chickpea when she has been asking me to do something over a period of several months. When the requests come over a period of days and weeks I am all "aww, thanks but no thanks girl" and "no way, girl". But after months I reach breaking point, and before I know it I am wearing some nasty-assed shoes and getting taught the ropes literally! (ha!) by a baby-faced Leonardo look alike (or something).

Of course, we only got photos of the shoes, not baby faced Leo, so we will all just have to keep wondering.

Despite only participating because I can't say no to Chickpea, I had a surprisingly enjoyable time climbing the walls. Even though I didn't so much scale as awkwardly clamber.

Note my proximity to people on the ground. I didn't get much further.
I also enjoyed referring to the karabiner (which is this thing):

The karabiner is an important part of climbing. It hooks you on to ropes and stuff and that's how we all stay safe. 

as a caribou.  Ha! Caribou. That's not a Caribou. THIS is a Caribou:

It was a little bit deliberate, and a little bit because I couldn't quite commit the word karabiner to memory. There are a lot of things you have to remember to do in rock climbing you see, and I felt that applying my limited mental capacity to learning the correct technique rather that the correct name for a karabiner was the right call.
But the joke was on me, because at the end of my last climb, I couldn't undo the caribou and liberate myself from the rope. Everyone tried, but we couldn't get it undone.

White knuckled attempt to liberate me

They plugged away for ages but in the end, we had to get a staff member to get me out, using a special professional tool* they have for when people get stuck in a caribou lock. So apart from that slight embarrassment, it was a swell time.




*Her hands.

We went climbing (AM)

 

After months and months of begging, Chickpea finally got me to go "rock climbing". You know, where you climb up a wall in a gym. Really she got K to agree to go and then she organised it, so I went. And by "begging me" I mean suggesting to me. It's not that I didn't want to go, it's just I'm bad at commitment. Until a thing is organised. Then I'm right on board. FOMO.

Strawberry, K and I were all first timers at this joint so we had to be inducted. That is, to learn the ropes. Literally. HA!

We got worded up by a young hipsterish dude that K thought had a young Leonardo thing going on. Frankly, I didn't quite think he was Leonardo, but he was something. K suggested a young Damon Albarn. I thought he was more a young Hamish Blake but the lower part of his face was a little young Brad Pitt. I don't know what the hell he was. I guess we were on some kind of pre-adrenalin high. In fact I'm sure we were because at the time everything he said seemed really funny but now it just seems like regular words. He instructed us how, as a climber, we should hook our harnesses to the ropes and, more importantly, as a belayer, how to belay. This is the important bit, because you are totally in charge of another person's safety and, therefore, life. Which is why I kept wondering when I looked at Chickpea why she was doing everything opposite to how the instructor told us to. I guess she was just being a helpful how-not-to guide. Thanks Chickpea.

Before we were let lose on the climbing gym we had to get some more intimate instruction from a delightful lady called Christina. She was super helpful, even if she did tell me I counted one pair of rope in a knot twice. Thanks Christina, but I have been counting to five for a really long time and I almost never count a thing twice.

See all the rope pairs in that figure 8 know. Five pairs.

But seriously folks. She was good and we all conquered that little wall pretty easily.K was the first to climb, and looking back on it her hysteria when being belayed down after her climb pretty well supports my pre-adrenalin high theory. So we moved to a harder wall. I scaled the heck out of it. See?

But enough about me. Let's hear what K thought this afternoon.

Stress Factors (PM)

This morning's post was about stress, which is really stressful, but I can't help but notice that it was also very pretty. This tells me something about J's creative output under stressful conditions and between hope and the wind, that makes me excited about the dinner party she is hosting this weekend.

It's a Nordic themed dinner party, you know. Not a Jarlsberg party. But both are exciting to me.

The highlights (PM)

Truth be told, readers, I was a wingman on most of those things J talked about in the AM, except instead of napping on her beanbag, I went home and napped on my couch. I agree about all those highlights, but would like to add the bit where the Dees beat the Gold Coast Suns for their third victory of the season as another highlight.

They can't believe it either!

And news just in!

Guess which favourite son of Miss Soft Crab finally beat Roger Federer to win a gold medal in the tennis?!

Atta boy, Andy Murray.

Great weekend all round readers!

The highlights (AM)

What a weekend. Or something. In fact my weekend was really quiet but by the end of it I felt exhausted. You wanna know some of the weekend's highlights? Ok, sure.

1. Friday night - Geelong vs Hawthorn. Especially the last minutes. Holy muthereffing moly you guys!!! Now, you either saw it or you didn't. And you either care or you don't. But in case you don't know Geelong ran away with the first quarter. Just were creaming the Hawks, who, over the course of the match made up ground to be ahead of Geelong in the last quarter. Hawthorn were dominating. Yada yada yada, in the last 20 seconds or so, 4 POINTS down Tom Hawkins took a mark for Geelong right in front of the goals on the 50 metre line. Yeah, you see where this is going? NAIL BITING EXCITEMENT! And he kicked the goal, after the siren for Geelong to win the match. You know, a lot of the time I don't even care much about footy but this was awesome. And by that I mean actually awesome. It was so exciting, I actually could hardly stop thinking about it all weekend. Footy! Get it up ya!

Tomahawk in amazed delight

2. I effed up some muffins. Yeah, this doesn't sound like a highlight does it. I made cinnamon, choc chip and walnut muffins and in my haste used plain flour instead of  self-raising. Dumkopf! When I made the realisation after noticing those muffins just weren't rising I was so disappointed. They smelled so good but they were just going to be crap. But that is when I realised that I could whack them in a dish with some custard to make a bread-pudding-like muffin pudding. Um, warm, custardy, chocolatey, nutty goo! Get it up ya! And add cream

3. I napped on the bean bag on Sunday. I told Chickpea and Strawberry this and they looked at me like a weirdo for sharing such a boring piece of information. But if you have ever been really tired after a bunch of wines the night before and 5 hours sleep and being woken by a child and you have to go to the pub later for a birthday party and you just want a nap and then your child curls up on you and falls asleep allowing you follow suit, well, then you will know how effing good that feels. Naps! Get 'em up ya!

4. Oh yeah, hanging with all my delightful friends was great too. I'm not saying that get it up ya thing here. Come on, guys! That would be really inappropriate.

Napoleon exhibition: a Miss Soft Crab summary (AM)

I went to see the Napoleon exhibition at the NGV on the weekend.
Revolution!
Military things!
France!
It was very enjoyable actually. You should all go. But in case you don't make it, here are some of my favourite things about it, and some discoveries I made.

Young Napoleon was quite handsome! 
Before seeing the exhibition, I thought Napoleon was kind of boring looking, with a bent towards the smug, and obviously a very short man. Now I know that was only how he looked in the later years. As a young man, he was a total dish. See for yourselves, readers.

Nothing wrong with that, am I right? Men doing hoist enough flags these days if you ask me, nor look over their shoulders while wearing a sash.
Also, apparently he was 5 foot 6 inches tall. The same height as me! That's not that short people, give him a break.


Bees!
You know how most kings and the like favour symbols like eagles and lions to make them look powerful and what not? Well, perhaps the most endearing thing about Napoleon was that in addition to having the image of an eagle slapped all over his paraphernalia, he also had a bee as his special emperor symbol. Isn't that adorable? I think that's so adorable! Apparently he liked bees.

This is a bronze bee from the NB's coronation celebrations. CUTE!

The bit where I thought Napoleon's horse was called David!
Miss Soft Crab is a big fan of Davids. We love them in fact.  While looking at this picture, I noticed that it says David on Napoleon's horse's leather strappy thing, the one that is making a horizontal line in this picture.

You can't see it here, but trust me, it's there. When I noticed this,  I basically decided I loved Napoleon. Not only is he handsome and a bee fan, but he has a horse named David. Who cares that he made himself emperor and made members of his family Kings and Queens in a whole bunch of other places. He has a horse called David and that makes him OK by me.

Turns out the person who painted he portrait was called Jean-Louis David, and the horsie's name is unknown.

Oh well.

I liked lots of other things but these ones spring to mind. You guys should go!

The country life (PM)

Way to go, having such a great time in the face of such horrible art!
And way to go, Chickpea, on ingeniously using the Gaia themed workshop idea to spark people's interest in going away for the weekend.
She is like a magical pied piper, luring the people away from the city with the sound of her LOLs.

It just so happens that I went to the country this weekend too. With Neville, Scampy and Banana.
We didn't do any workshops but we did have a wonderful time.
Highlights included:

• Friday night's dinner of rump steak with fried egg on top (I only want my steak like this now)
• the multiple massages Banana gave me to fix my sore back (thanks Banana, you truly are the best)
• the giant bathtub that soaked in all Saturday afternoon
• Neville's purchase of packets of fun size Flake and Cherry Ripe, which I totally smashed
• ongoing hilarity. 

Mate, I actually started thinking while I was away that we should start a Miss Soft Crab savings account and one day buy a weekend in the country. Don't you think that would rule?

The country life (AM)

I don't know what you all did this weekend but I know that I spent 24 hours in the country and if I didn't feel so damned tired from having such a wonderful time I'd be feeling really refreshed and wonderful! What a great time! When I left on Saturday morning I felt normal, fine, you know, normal. By the time we got where we were going and people were asking, "How are you?" I was beaming and saying ,"YEAH! Really good!" And that was just after the drive!

LB, Baby and I went to a little place outside of Daylesford on Saturday for a delightful stayover with Chickpea, Strawberry, Lala, D-Digs, the Harnesenator and E&J. It was a NYE reunion. Chickers organised it and after her initial email attempt to organise the weekend had got no response, she repackaged it like this:

  Mother Gaia WORSHIP WEEKEND 

 Celebrate the WINTER SOLSTICE!!!!!! 

  Realign your CHAKRAS !!!!!!!!!!! 

 Balance your SPIRITUAL MERIDIANS!!!!!! 

 Awaken your KUNDALINI!!!!!! 

You can bet everyone got on board pretty much immediately! There were even going to be workshops.

Lala: A guided mushroom experience

Strawberry: Phatbeatz

Chickpea: Fluoro art

J: Menstruation

D-Digs: Aesthetic Enlightenment: Natural fibre's and their relationship to purification and  harmony and Go-Go for Gaia

Harnsenator: Areola reading

E&J: Sweat lodge construction & levitation

As you can see, it promised to be a pretty wonderful and enlightening weekend. And boy, the mudbrick house we stayed in really came to the Gaia party, check out this "art" that was on the wall. 

It's like a giant, metal, my family sticker! And that is just one of many. It was everywhere. In the house, around the property. My eyes got so full of ironwork art. *Shudder* There was the most hideous cat metal art on the wall. I tried to photograph it but my camera rebelled and the photo didn't work out.

It turns out, in fact, that ironwork art is really big in the Hepburn area. Why they wanna ruin the natural beauty of that place I don't understand. 

And in case you are interested in what my bedroom looked like, here is the chenille bedspread. It really lifted the room.

The only "workshop" I experienced was some impromptu go-go (for Gaia) before dinner. Sadly I was putting Baby to bed during the levitation workshop. I could hear the squeals of delight as "light as a feather, stif as a board" was performed with success.

I did partake in a pretty wonderful and feminist game of scrabble. If you ask me I got the best and most appropriate word. I wonder if you can tell which one it is.

Yesterday I had the skinniest sandwich in Daylesford I have ever seen.

But the nature guys! The nature!