New seasons resolutions (PM)

Lately, all the news from home has been telling me that spring is in the air. I'm very very very happy to hear it, even though I feel I haven't earned it.  I haven't had a winter this year, what with my adventuring and all. Being in the UK during their summer has meant I've enjoyed  months of shoulder season weather, with the odd ice-cold day in Wales and I suspect a few in my very near future now I'm in Edinburgh. USA was downright hot. So coming home to Spring in Melbourne feels very decadent to me. I haven't put in any hard work during winter and yet the sun will shine on me. That's not fair. But heck guys, I'll do it if I have to.

As for seasonal resolutions, mine are very very dirty. Literally! I want to grow a lot of things in the garden. My, how i've missed having a garden.  The Diggers Club keep sending me emails telling me about all the great workshops they've got going on and the shit hot seeds I can buy. And boy is it working. So as soon as I get home, I am going to buy a whole lot of poo and put it in the dirt and then wait a week or so and then it is going to be on for young and old. I going to plant the hell out of stuff. Shit gonna be getting fecund at my place.

My place looks nothing like this, but you get the idea.
Plus, I think I am going to try wearing pale monochrome outfits. Pale grey ideally. That means I have to buy a bunch of pale grey things, so it probably won't happen. But I like the idea of it.

New seasons resolutions (AM)

I guess to an extent I make resolutions at the start of every season. Probably at the start of autumn and winter I resolve to dress well in the season-appropriate look in which I've imagined myself for weeks leading into the ever colder weather. And of course my resolve weakens into a slump of jeans and the same jumper  after about three days of rain. At the start of spring my resolutions are far more serious. Oh sure I want to commit to looking good in cool colours and red lipstick, wear white shoes, always have smooth legs, but there's more to seasons than the clothes. Even I know that.  

We all now I feel about spring. I love her, but she is one fickle bitch. Here one minute, gone the next. But what am I gonna do? This weather is so beautiful and full of promise and I'm already making my spring resolutions. 

Spring is of course the time when you decide to increase your exercise regime. Partly, I guess, because everyone wants a "summer-ready" "bikini body", right? A magazine told me I wanted one. But it's not just that. It's that the spring air makes you feel happy! Alive! And you want more of that in your lungs, right! Plus more of that sweet serotonin that you've been synthesising in all the sunlight. Check. I have made that resolution. And one day I will act on it!

I have resolved to "slough away dead winter skin" by exfoliating! Eating a delicious Vietnamese egg and salad roll with chilli sauce at lunch yesterday I resolved to make myself delicious salad rolls for lunch at home instead of just eating five peanut butter toasts between the hours of 11 and 2. I decided to make myself green juices with the awesome old, yet incredibly space-consuming juicer I cant bring myself to throw away with all the green things that smell like spring! Mint! Lime! Cucumber! Green!

I've resolved to try and stay on top of the weeding, plant hings, keep them alive!

I guess all this stuff is typical spring resolution material. I'm just another sucker falling for spring's charms. But what are you going to do about it!? Imagine if I do all this stuff, this may just be the best season of the year!

Living the dream (PM)

I just watched the trailer for the film Thirst and now I'm feeling a little moved. 

It could be because I'm jetlagged. It could be because I have a weird soft spot for Melanie Griffith because of the film Working Girl. But it was probably the fact that I had just read about Monica Sonand, and I find what she's doing impressive and pretty inspirational really. 

Plus, it must be said that the film score is itself quite moving, so I'm really just feeling very natural feelings and I'm not some weird sap who gets misty-eyed about everything. 

No way. 

I'm looking forward to what Monica Sonand does next, and the fact that finding out will probably involve a choc-top is just a bonus and is not related to my interest levels at all. 

Living the dream (AM)

Australia is always accusing itself of suffering from tall poppy syndrome but have you seen how wild we go when an Australian wins an Oscar or gets cast as a super hero?! We love it! But you know, before a person wins an Oscar or is cast as a superhero they usually have to work really hard doing awesome things and I wonder why we don't talk about that more, about the people working hard on awesome things. Sure not everyone is going to play Thor or win an Oscar but there is lots of great stuff happening out there worth taking notice of. 

Melbourne musician Monica Sonand was working a day job and writing music on the side before deciding to move to LA to study film scoring and technical score engineering at UCLA. It wasn't long before she started getting work. Not just anywhere, mind you, no. Monica has been working at Hans Zimmer's Remote Control Productions as a Film Score Technical Engineer. Yes I said Hans Zimmer, the guy that has scored probably every second movie you've seen, from The Lion King to 12 Years a Slave. But we're not here to talk about Hans. 

While at Remote Control Productions Monica worked on the scores on an impressive list of films including Oliver Stone's Savages and Ron Howard's Rush, for which she had to watch Chris Hemsworth all day long.* Yep, the rest of us are definitely in the wrong line of work. And while we're on the topic of setting scores to Australian actors, Monica also created much of the music for TV series Chicago Fire, starring Jesse Spencer. Yep, bringing Aussies together even though Spencer is totally oblivious of the fact. Oh, the lot of the Film Score Technical Engineer, working alone in a dark studio while Jesse Spencer rides on a fire truck. 

Monica in the studio

But as if a move to Hollywood and a job alongside some of the industry's best names wasn't enough, this month Monica was in Switzerland for the Locarno Film Festival for the short film Thirst, to which she travelled with the film's director, Rachel McDonald and star, Melanie Griffith. 

Monica (right) with the Thirst team at Locarno

Monica and Rachel met through Remote Control on the film It's Complicated. When Rachel came to direct Thirst, she liked idea of working with a female composer and when she heard the piece Monica wrote for the film Rachel was sold. The piece became the theme of the film and no wonder! Check it out in the trailer. 

After hanging out in Switzerland with Melanie Griffith and a bunch of movie making whizzes I'm pretty sure Monica will be doing something awesome next. And now I'm starting to think I need a dream so I can pursue it and do something awesome too! 

*This job probably involved other stuff too, like, you know doing her actual job. 

Last days of holiday (PM)

Mate, do you mean to tell us that you saw even climbed something called Grope Mountain and bounced on a bouncing boob castle and have the gall not to show is pictures?!?

Are you trying to give us mental blue balls?!?!

Thank God for the internet. 

Last days of holiday (AM)

Hi crab friends. Just a very quick post because I'm out and about in NYC. We've been at a museum this arvo which had an exhibit called Funland. It included a jumping caslte made of boobs and a climbing wall of knobs and boobs called grope mountain. Right now we're having asahi and edamame and soon, we're going out for steak.
I'm the luckiest crab in the world.

Take me out to the ball game (PM)

Ugh I find cricket so boring, I can only imagine I would find baseball equally unbearable. Though I guess baseball has a few things going for it that cricket doesn't.

1. It's from America, therefore exotic

2. I know nothing about it, therefore mysterious

3. It would give me a chance to say "Hey,  batter batter batter sa-wing batter", therefore satisfying my love of saying things I've heard in movies

4. People watch it in movies all the time, therefore satisfying my love of doing things people do in movies

Ipso facto, no wonder it's a fun day out!

Take me out to the ball game (AM)

On Sunday, Appleheart and I went to the ball game—the New York Mets vs the Chicago Cubs.
We decided to see the Mets because eveyone always goes and sees the Yankees, which makes the Mets kind of like the underdogs. Also, John Stewart barracks for the Mets and Appleheard is a real John Stewart fan boy. Also, their mascot is great—a guy with baseball for a head called Mr Met.

I know nothing about baseball.  It seems that watching A League of Their Own a lot as a kid does not prepare you for this game.

It's played on a field that looks like the wifi symbol.

There are 9 innings. It's a pretty slow game. It feels like it should be fast and full of razzle dazzle, but it is kind of slow. I mean, it's slower than cricket. Every time a batter hits a ball he has to run. Even if he (or she, in A League of Their Own) knows (s)he is not doing to make it. So people knew they're going to be out when they start running.  What's exciting about that? Nothing, if you ask me.

In between innings they try a few things out to spruce up the game. At one point, they gave an American flag to a guy who served in Iraq. At another point, Mr Met came out and threw a bunch of tshirts into the crowd. At another point, they got three kids out of the crowd to play a round of Simon Says with the Dunkin Donuts mascot, a giant cup called Cuppy. No kidding.

It's like they know the game isn't interesting enough on its own.

Half way through the game only one home run had been scored. Even nerdy teenagers probably get more home runs than than in this day and age. I didn't, but others would. For sure.

In the end, the Cubs won with a score  of 2 home runs to the Mets 0. Apparently the home team has won every time these two  teams have played this year, until today. More evidence to support my sneaking suspicion that my barracking for a team constitutes the kiss of death.

Regardless, it was actually a super fun day. I've got some photos of it to share with you all, but they' are on Appleheart's camera and he is having a nap right now. You know how sitting in the sun all day can really take it out of you. I'll try to update the post with photos later. 

Thinking about summer (the next day!!)

View from the rooftop. No kidding.

 Shit you guys! I am so caught up in northern hemisphere summer that I totally forgot to update MSC until just now...Friday morning Melbourne time! I'm so sorry! Part of the problem is that last night, I went to Momofuku for dinner and was so full when I came home, I lay down for a little rest and digest and didn't wake up until 8am this morning. Then I rushed out the door because we were going to the 9/11 memorial museum, and spent the whole day there feeling a lot of feelings. Then when we got home we spent a little time on the rooftop of this apartment where we are staying,  took Fritzel the dog for a walk and it wasn't until I returned from that walk and sat down at my computer that I remembered  MSC! That's basically right now.

Fritzel

 But now that I am here I can advise that summer is great because the air is warm and the sun is shiny. And I've been on a couple of ferries, which is kind of the same as a yacht, so that's pretty great. In that respect, summer is as great as you imagine, Matey. But there's something you're forgetting, and that's how to strike the balance between being sunsmart and stylish. That shit is hard. I feel like all my sunsmart options make me look like a woman who shops at country road and works in a homewares store. That's not cool. Literally! Ha.

On the plus side, most of my time in New Orleans was spent wearing these two dresses made of jersey that I bought at H&M for $10 each. They are hella comfortable and were super cheap and are semi-stylish. Also, if you wanted access to a breast, you could get one very very easily. Win!
Not very sun smart though. So you know, dressing in summer is not all beer and skittles. But there are lots of beer and skittles in summer, so it kind of balances out.

This beer was actually consumed in New Orleans, by the old Mississippi. Still, you get the idea.

Thinking 'bout summer (AM)

I'm hanging for summer so hard that when I saw this picture of a humpback whale in a book about whale watching it made me think of summer fashions. I know it's fucked up. But the white! The stripes! The blubber. That's totally how I see myself this summer. Ha! That bit about the blubber was a joke but the rest is for reals. I guess the sea and sun help too. 

I think I need a practical project. All this full time mothering is not enough to distract me from thinking about clothes all the time. And I'm thinking a lot about what I'll be wearing when the weather gets warmer. Mostly I imagine myself looking like Jennifer Conelly in this Vogue photo shoot from a few years ago. 

In the spread she's in lots of white and navy and hanging out on a yacht. Truth be told, ever since that issue of Vogue came out I imagined myself like this for the summer but weirdly it's never quite come to fruition. Maybe I need a yacht. 

But all this fanaticising about summer barely makes sense. I'm not even that sick of winter. This winter has been so mild and while there have been some cold-ass days and some rainy motherucking days there's also been some sunshine and I've barely used the umbrella I bought a month or 2 ago. Which makes me kind of sad because it's gold. But I think it's the winter sunshine that makes me miss summer more. Or at least the clothes. Because you still gotta rug up and I think that's what the problem is for me. Usually I've got a baby strapped to me. At some point during the day I have to manoeuvre a breast out from my layers with some measure of discretion and frankly the idea of less bulk in my clothes is calling to me like the sweet song of the whales and their great summer fashions. 

But hey! K is in summer right now! Is it as good as I imagine, Mate?

I need to wee (PM)

Oh man. This is just another of the ways that I admire you Matey. You are patient and capable and have a steel clad pelvic floor. I do not have a pelvic floor made of steel. I have a pelvic floor made of something like jersey. All it takes for me to urgently need to go to the toilet is for me to hear someone mention needing to go to the toilet, walk past a fire hydrant that's a bit leaky or get to my front door. Within seconds of any of these things, I'm busting and there is no way  the demands of daily life could stop that urge.

I actually have this really strong memory from when I was little that relates to the toilet and the demands of being a mother. I remember being about 5 or 6 or something and having a conversation with my Mum. I don't remember the details of the conversation but I suspect it was something to do with my Care Bear. So it was pretty interesting. Anyway, I was following Mum around the house as she was doing this and that, talking about my business. All of sudden I found myself standing outside a closed bathroom door, with Mum on the other side. I obviously felt that I still had some points to make so I just opened the door and walked in on Mum on the toilet. No doubt this had happened millions of times before, but this time, for the first time, Mum plead with me to leave her alone and wait until she was finished on the toilet. Frankly, I was shocked. I thought I was pretty much her favourite person and whatever I had to say, she wanted to hear it, no matter what else she was doing. Turns out most of that time she was probably just desperate for privacy and really needed to wee.
And given that I am the youngest of her children, this situation probably persisted for about a decade.

I'm so sorry, Mum

I need to wee (AM)

I've heard new mothers say all kinds of things that "no one told them before they had babies". 

"No one talks about how you crap during labour," they say. To which I say, you clearly do not know my in-laws. 

"No one tells you how hard it is," they say. To which I say, are you fucking kidding me?! Everyone tells you how hard it is. They tell you that all the time. Your ears were closed.  

But why don't they complain about the real things no one actually tells you. Seriously, no one ever tells you you'll need to wee all the time. And I'm not talking about some post pregnancy prolapsed pelvic floor situation, I'm just talking about never getting the goddam chance to go to the goddamn toilet. Exercise your pelvic floor muscle they tell you after you have a baby. My whole life is a pelvic floor exercise. Pick up toys, attend to some child's need, attend to more child's need, attend to your own need to not have shit everywhere by picking up the shit strewn everywhere, snap at a child because they're bouncing off you, realise this means you are busting for the dunny, realise you are unable to go to the toilet because there's a crying baby, get swept up in the cycle again until hours later you can finally go to the toilet. I have  a pelvic floor of steel. 

Now if you'll excuse me, I really have to go to the toilet. 

Haiku Thursday (PM)

Love every meal

But deciding what to eat

Day after day... ugh

Food inspiration

Can be be rarer than haiku

Inspiration... Beat

Haiku Thursday (AM)

Hey there New Orleans. 

Thought I couldn't love you more.

Then you went did this. 

 

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?!?

Big Easy Eating (AM)

We are in New Orleans! It's hot and sweaty and swampy and just like the movies have led us all to expect.

In New Orleans, no one says 'hello', they all say 'How y'all doin?'. You would think it would get annoying but it's really very charming. People are very friendly and people in cars always, I mean always, usher you across the street in front of them if you're waiting to cross the road. I think it might be that famous southern hospitality thing. They ALL do it ALL the time. It's lovely. 

Part of the reason we chose New Orleans for our summer holiday is because of the good eating, which we've pursued with abandon. We adopted a 'let every meal count' policy. It means we're not going to eat anything that isn't worth it. So no matter how hungry and tired and irritable we are from wandering around all day like one does when one is traveling, we have agreed to never just duck in to some crappy place and get a quick sandwich or something. Every meal has to be worth it. So far we have not needed to even mention the agreement, let alone invoke it. The sandwiches at the crappy places are better than the sandwiches at the good places. New Orleans food rules. 

We've had a shedload of top shelf food experiences but I thought I'd narrow it down to two for the purposes of this post.

The first one was at a place called Bacchanal which is in the Bywater, by the Mississippi.
This place is a wine shop and and a restaurant. It's totally bourgeois, but the restaurant is outside in a garden and in this hot steamy nights, it's a pretty lovely place to be. 

We ate grilled baby octopus, peppers stuffed with crab, and and a hanger steak with chilli and parsley dressing. The best thing, however, were dates stuffed with chorizo and wrapped in bacon. Good god. They were out of this world.

None of this stuff is unique to New Orleans, it is the kind of thing you can get at any number of places in any number of cities. It was just such an excellent version of that kind of food, and in such an incredibly lovely setting, that I think it's going to stand out.

The other top food experience so far is pretty dang New Orleans. Or Louisiana. Or just American South. It was fried chicken at Willie Mae's Scotch House.

This place is kind of a dive from the outside. But the smell of fried chicken was to our noses like the song of sirens to the ears of the sailors. 

This is what we found inside.

Three pieces of fried chicken and a side of chips. And a giant coke. Also, a cornbread muffin which is not pictured, but was actually quite  delicious. But who the eff cares about cornbread, it's the fried chicken I'm here to talk about. It was juicy and succulent and though fried within an inch of it's (after) life, surprising non-greasy. The coating had just the right amount of spice to create a little heat-buzz in the mouth, while not taking away from the chickeny flavour. It was completely and utterly delicious and I can see why America has such a serious obesity problem. This is a completely unjustifiable meal from the point of view of nutrition and calories and all that jazz, but I have no doubt, absolutely no doubt we will go back for more before we leave. 

The greatness of the food here in New Orleans made the fact that I missed out on Sleepover Chutney Club easier to take. Blizzie hosted everyone at their beach house and if there's one thing I like more than 30 degree heat it's being at the beach when it's cold. There's something so beautiful about it. Anyway, I am really hoping J can use this afternoon's post to give us a run down on everything that was swapped and everything that was consumed. Also, there's been talk of something called Danish Bowl. Please provide some advice on this.