Big Skies, No Rain and wistful thinking

  

  

Snapped out of the passenger seat with trusty cellphone (nokia something or the other) while out and about over the weekend. Skies full of promise and not a drop of rain – it’s so dry you can literally feel the life evaporating out of all and sundry. It’s been really oppressive in our part of the world – almost as though you’re moving in a primeval ooze, in truth summer is not my favourite time of the year. Bring on the crispness of autumn and the bite of winter.

We continue to walk twice a week and as much as it pains me to admit it’s incredibly therapeutic. Getting going is the biggest hurdle to overcome, especially after a crap work day. We are fortunate to live in a “green belt” with lots of trees, a valley or two and a smattering of quietish roads to pound and once the initial shock has worn off of actually having to exercise your lungs for some other reason than yelling obscenities there is a certain rhythm to the whole process which helps to clear your head. The sound of the wind through a family of pine trees, teeny tiny bats of some description swooping through the rays of a waning sun, even the incredulous glances of passing motorists as they roar off to some incredibly important destination makes for a rich 45 minutes.

Because some days are diamonds and some days are coal

Its been a crappy week after a fabulous weekend (we “chilled” and bonded and laughed, a lot).

We walked (very dull postboxes owned by folk in our part of town)

We gardened on Sunday (foto out of the bedroom window courtesy of trust old cell phone). Sunday was hot – we steamed like a well done plate of vegies as the constant recent rains came back to bite with a vengeance). Did fit in a quick breakfast at a local eatery and a hasty spin past the bookshop to acquire some reading material on sale ……………

Frivolous froth and a glass of Tall Horse Merlot (the blue one) must lie on my horizon somewhere ………….. please!

My place of torture looks like this today

           

You will notice there is no evidence of what lies on the floor, it is a deliberate omission, it’s not a pretty sight – paper EVERYWHERE. Himself aka the name on the letterhead has landed himself in hospital with a bout of pneumonia – he still has his cell phone with him – he is making really bad business decisions 😦

There is the prospect of a chicken, butternut and feta bake with pumpkin seeds for dinner – mmmmmmmm delish, does merlot go with chicken???? Well it does tonight, culinary rules be damned.

Baking for Dummies 101

Given my recent drought in the “sweet” department I decided to restrain myself last night and not venture into the bread world with anything too exotic – so, I “cheated” or you could say took a culinary short cut.

Snowflake EasyMix Farm Style Bread – i’ve seen the packets on the shelves and always turned my nose up thinking that it would taste as artificial as it looks. Not so and after a healthy slice of humble pie I can confidently say it’s really good. One packet of mix, 2 extra large eggs and 500ml of buttermilk/plain yog gives you a medium sized fabulous loaf full of yumminess. I chose not too add any extras for an initial try and at most would throw some extra seeds on top next time – the finished product has a great crust and a beautifully textured inside. I actually remembered to take some phone pics and then also remembered too not bring my cable to work hence my verbosity and lack of immediate photographic evidence.

After an enforced cooling period while DH lurked (a lover of bread is himself) we tried a bit with ham and cheese, another bit with delish Simonsberg cream cheese, a third bit with mulberry jam (courtesy of our local home industries store) and a final bit with a swish of butter.

Step 1 on the road to being Nigella , I think not but it was great fun.

“[Breadbaking is] one of those almost hypnotic businesses, like a dance from some ancient ceremony. It leaves you filled with one of the world’s sweetest smells…there is no chiropractic treatment, no Yoga exercise, no hour of meditation in a music-throbbing chapel. that will leave you emptier of bad thoughts than this homely ceremony of making bread.”

M. F. K. Fisher, ‘The Art of Eating’

On being “gatvol”

http://www.urbandictionary.com/gatvol

Have you ever had that heavy feeling on your chest when you wake up?

No not the cat, or the health-related kind where a trip to the quack is probably your best bet before someone has to choose coffin handles  but the kind where you know for a fact that there’s crap on the horizon a.k.a. what will happen if I don’t investigate that electrical burning smell! So I’ve been doing the whole thing for the last few days and initially thought the

nasty “black dog” of it all had popped in for a visit  but after some serious thinking last night and into the wee hours of this morning I’ve come to the conclusion that being depressed has got diddly squat to do with bugger all. The bottom line is I’m “gatvol”, I’m mad at the world, I’m irritated and brassed off and generally fed up with everybody and everything. My nice fairy has gone on vacation and the old witch caretaker has moved in.

Now you might say “wow an epiphany, an ah ha moment, she has seen the light” – fair enough but now what? I’m pissed off, hooray for me and then?????

Bugger