I'm so blessed I have a husband who knows how to cook, cooks well and is willing to do so. It's not often he gets the opportunity. Plus it makes more sense that I do most of the cooking because I have more time but two nights ago my lovely husband cooked me dinner. I appreciated it and appreciate him.
Last night (Tuesday), back to the regular routine of me cooking, I went in search of the little green peeler. All the drawers got opened, all cupboards investigated along with the sink, dish rack and dishwasher. This is a regular game I play. (Not just with the peeler but a whole array of items, usually keys and wallets). The husband who is a smart little cookie has a tendency to put things in places and quickly forgets about it or just plain puts things in funny places.
He comes home from work and it goes a little like this:
*BIG HUG*
*Little Smoo*
Me: "Where's the peeler? You used it last night."
Husband: "It's got to be around here somewhere.......um did you check the bin?"
Me: "I had a sneaky suspicion that's where you put it."
*Sad Face*
Husband: "Opps!"
Bin Day was today (Tuesday). Rest in Peace little guy. I miss you.
Especially since I peeled carrots and potatoes today with a Knife!
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
The Colour Orange
Pumpkins, pumpkins, pumpkins everywhere! Have you noticed it too?
It’s a vegetable that’s easier to grow then other vegetables and once it’s harvested it’s able to be stored for months. This leads to an over supply of pumpkins and low prices – 68 cents per Kg – what a bargain! Yet I don’t see many people buying them. So what’s happening to all the pumpkins??
There’s a special time of year when the world gets crazy. Monsters and ghosts rise from their hiding places to walk the streets. Children run wild screaming. People give out free lollies to keep the terrors at bay. The town is painted Orange and Black with fake spider webs and blood. October 31st – Halloween.
An eventful day in the calendar where consumers have been brainwashed into spending. I blame the farmers or rather I congratulate them. They’ve devised a plan – a day – a mindset – an event that tells consumers they need PUMPKINS. They need to hollow them out and cut menacing faces into them. They need to buy more and more pumpkins regardless of the inflated prices. For it keeps the terrors away. The one day in the year where the unthinkables of the world walk the streets to prey on us – for lollies. And our only defense? – A pumpkin.
I blame the farmers for not spinning the story more to get it recognised as a public holiday.
It’s a vegetable that’s easier to grow then other vegetables and once it’s harvested it’s able to be stored for months. This leads to an over supply of pumpkins and low prices – 68 cents per Kg – what a bargain! Yet I don’t see many people buying them. So what’s happening to all the pumpkins??
There’s a special time of year when the world gets crazy. Monsters and ghosts rise from their hiding places to walk the streets. Children run wild screaming. People give out free lollies to keep the terrors at bay. The town is painted Orange and Black with fake spider webs and blood. October 31st – Halloween.
An eventful day in the calendar where consumers have been brainwashed into spending. I blame the farmers or rather I congratulate them. They’ve devised a plan – a day – a mindset – an event that tells consumers they need PUMPKINS. They need to hollow them out and cut menacing faces into them. They need to buy more and more pumpkins regardless of the inflated prices. For it keeps the terrors away. The one day in the year where the unthinkables of the world walk the streets to prey on us – for lollies. And our only defense? – A pumpkin.
I blame the farmers for not spinning the story more to get it recognised as a public holiday.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Jaws - East Perth
The husband suprised me with reservations for dinner at Jaws in East Perth.
I'm a big fan of Japanese food but not of Jaws' pricing.
It boggles the mind that 2 pieces of sushi can cost so much.
I do love how there's a ledge under the table for you to place your belongings - just like in Japan.
It boggles the mind that 2 pieces of sushi can cost so much.
I do love how there's a ledge under the table for you to place your belongings - just like in Japan.
We started off the night with Kae's favourite - Spicy Prawn Sushi - where the prawns were plump and overflowing.
Inari
Amazing that a rice sack can be so tasty.
Chicken Teriyaki Set.
Cooked perfectly.
Chicken Karage Set
This was over fried and disappointing.
Surprisingly the salad was the hero of the meal with its tangy dressing.
Surprisingly the salad was the hero of the meal with its tangy dressing.
The highlight of the night - Japanese Fried Oysters.
Deep fried goodness with an explosive soft centre, the balance was just right.
It's so rich so I recommend sharing between 2.
It's so rich so I recommend sharing between 2.
Finished off the night with Creme Brule.
It wasn't fantastic, what with the bitter note and it wasn't smooth like silk.
Overall a good night with great company and we made it home in time for Masterchef.
I married a good one :)
I married a good one :)
Monday, July 26, 2010
Love is...
...coming home, dinner on the table.
Veal in a mushroom, chilli, thyme, light cream sauce with mashed potatoes and salad.
A 'How to' guide to trap a bear
A black bear lured by the smell of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches opened a car door and trapped itself inside before rolling down an embankment and into trees.
Neighbours called police after hearing the bear honk for 45 minutes.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
YouTube - Where Dreams Start
I love the concept of YouTube. One thing I like doing is searching for covers of songs that I normally listen to. Whilst a lot of them can be very cringe-worthy, some of them are actually pretty good. There's so much creativity in the world and there are definately some real talented people out there.
Case in point. [No tongue-in-cheek joke or anything - this kid is great]
Case in point. [No tongue-in-cheek joke or anything - this kid is great]
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
The man my husband wants to be
This is my husband's favourite ad. It's been out for awhile but still makes him chuckle.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Classic
Yesterday a little boy looked down at me and in the most disgusted voice said “You don’t KNOW what a Gogo is?” Then he rolled his eyes and walked away.
Kids can be so mean.
(By no means is this an example of how I’m out of the loop, not with it, losing touch with the younger generation or the dreaded 3 lettered “O” word that ends in “D” and the middle letter is “L” for loser.)
Seriously, what is a Gogo? I’ve never heard of it, let alone seen one.
The little boy was too disgusted to associate with me or educate me. So I waited till he took out some colourful objects out of his pouch and proceeded to lay out in two groups these miniature plastic figures that reminded me of Pokemon. (Although anything that vaguely resembles a cute monster I immediately think Pokemon). I’m unsure of the rules. I don’t think I was the only one.
The main idea is you flick a monster into the pack of standing monsters and try knock down as many as possible.
I’m thinking glorified modernised spin on marbles.
But you can’t beat the classics. Recess and lunch time spent practicing your technique, walking up the hill to where the big kids played in the big leagues. Beautiful shiny marbles that glistened in the sun, bigger then a 20cent piece with 2/3rds of it pushed into the sand. 5 minutes later, 30 marbles less then what you started with, you win the prize only to realise its chipped and missing the bottom half, all you have to show for the day’s hard work – a rock.
When the husband was little and possibly slightly cuter then he is now he had the prize – a yellow pearl, the jewel amongst all marble enthusiasts. At the big leagues (the sand pit), showcasing this pearl brought fame and glory. One sunny lunch time, doing the usual rounds of showcasing, an older boy started harassing him to play the yellow pearl. He didn’t want to. This pearl brought untold wealth and prestige and to gamble it in a game of marbles, for what? – The chance to upstage a bigger boy? But the bigger boy persisted and bullied him into it.
The atmosphere was tense, a crowd had gathered to watch, to witness the history of the yellow pearl. They pushed and shoved as they vied for a better position to view the action, there were screams and shouts of excitement and it all stopped as the first marble flew out of the bigger boy’s hand. Not a sound to be heard then a clink. With a smug look from the bigger boy, he demanded HIS yellow pearl. My husband, in shock, sad to lose his prized possession squeezed shut his eyes, opened his little mouth and howled. His crying so tormented, the tears running down his smudged face could soften anyone’s heart. And soften it did. A teacher came and forced the bigger older boy to return the yellow pearl to the rightful owner.
The next day at school – marbles was banned.
Kids can be so mean.
(By no means is this an example of how I’m out of the loop, not with it, losing touch with the younger generation or the dreaded 3 lettered “O” word that ends in “D” and the middle letter is “L” for loser.)
Seriously, what is a Gogo? I’ve never heard of it, let alone seen one.
The little boy was too disgusted to associate with me or educate me. So I waited till he took out some colourful objects out of his pouch and proceeded to lay out in two groups these miniature plastic figures that reminded me of Pokemon. (Although anything that vaguely resembles a cute monster I immediately think Pokemon). I’m unsure of the rules. I don’t think I was the only one.
The main idea is you flick a monster into the pack of standing monsters and try knock down as many as possible.
I’m thinking glorified modernised spin on marbles.
But you can’t beat the classics. Recess and lunch time spent practicing your technique, walking up the hill to where the big kids played in the big leagues. Beautiful shiny marbles that glistened in the sun, bigger then a 20cent piece with 2/3rds of it pushed into the sand. 5 minutes later, 30 marbles less then what you started with, you win the prize only to realise its chipped and missing the bottom half, all you have to show for the day’s hard work – a rock.
When the husband was little and possibly slightly cuter then he is now he had the prize – a yellow pearl, the jewel amongst all marble enthusiasts. At the big leagues (the sand pit), showcasing this pearl brought fame and glory. One sunny lunch time, doing the usual rounds of showcasing, an older boy started harassing him to play the yellow pearl. He didn’t want to. This pearl brought untold wealth and prestige and to gamble it in a game of marbles, for what? – The chance to upstage a bigger boy? But the bigger boy persisted and bullied him into it.
The atmosphere was tense, a crowd had gathered to watch, to witness the history of the yellow pearl. They pushed and shoved as they vied for a better position to view the action, there were screams and shouts of excitement and it all stopped as the first marble flew out of the bigger boy’s hand. Not a sound to be heard then a clink. With a smug look from the bigger boy, he demanded HIS yellow pearl. My husband, in shock, sad to lose his prized possession squeezed shut his eyes, opened his little mouth and howled. His crying so tormented, the tears running down his smudged face could soften anyone’s heart. And soften it did. A teacher came and forced the bigger older boy to return the yellow pearl to the rightful owner.
The next day at school – marbles was banned.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Foraging
I was little, my brothers only slightly bigger then me. We made our own fun, had adventures and only had our imaginations for entertainment. We played on a concrete hill driveway surrounded by flowers. The roses were fragrant and bigger then my head. Cumquats were abundant and we filled our tummies with these sour fruits.
The real prize, the jewel, the cherry on top was this strange bush with tiny flowers that bloomed and turned into green lanterns that dried out and became brown. Encased inside, a round golden pearl of the berry family - the Gooseberry.
Now in my own courtyard garden with a supply of my own, I offer this treat to my husband and share my childhood memory. His eyes sqeeze shut, his nose wrinkles, his mouth turns into a small frown as his head shakes from side to side as he tries to shake the taste away. His only response - it's sour.
The real prize, the jewel, the cherry on top was this strange bush with tiny flowers that bloomed and turned into green lanterns that dried out and became brown. Encased inside, a round golden pearl of the berry family - the Gooseberry.
Now in my own courtyard garden with a supply of my own, I offer this treat to my husband and share my childhood memory. His eyes sqeeze shut, his nose wrinkles, his mouth turns into a small frown as his head shakes from side to side as he tries to shake the taste away. His only response - it's sour.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
Surprise Treat
The husband came home with this surprise treat for me.
Thanks Bestest Husband Ever!
Thanks Bestest Husband Ever!
I think he may have read yesterday's post and pulled up his game socks :)
Thursday, July 8, 2010
The Most Magical Place
For as long as I can remember Japan has always been the destination I’ve most wanted to visit. It’s a magical place that’s vastly different from every other Asian country I’ve been to. It’s wealthy, technologically advanced, fashion forward (debatable) and there’s a rich history and culture. I love the blend of modern and traditional aspects. And the food is glorious. I’d have to say it’s my favourite cuisine.
Other girls dream of knights in white horses rescuing them and riding into the sunset or having a rich billionaire volunteer firefighter fall deeply and madly in love with them. But I dream of marrying a tall, black haired Japanese chef. Romantic dinners of him making sushi, cooking ramen, feeding me takoyaki. *blushes* Sorry hunny I meant to say ‘dreamed’. You’re the best husband ever! The little surprise treats of sushi, ramen lunches and regular takoyaki hunting adventures – it almost makes up for it.
Two weeks in this magical country wasn’t enough. Arriving home I had the blues and it just got worse. All around me there were signs that reminded me I wasn’t there anymore – the toilet. Strange but warmed toilet seats were awesome. I missed the infinite number of buttons, the 10 tracks of music and self-flushing function. Here I was – a sucker, living backwards on a cold toilet, making my own music and flushing my own toilet. We’re living in a backward time I tells you.
Other girls dream of knights in white horses rescuing them and riding into the sunset or having a rich billionaire volunteer firefighter fall deeply and madly in love with them. But I dream of marrying a tall, black haired Japanese chef. Romantic dinners of him making sushi, cooking ramen, feeding me takoyaki. *blushes* Sorry hunny I meant to say ‘dreamed’. You’re the best husband ever! The little surprise treats of sushi, ramen lunches and regular takoyaki hunting adventures – it almost makes up for it.
Two weeks in this magical country wasn’t enough. Arriving home I had the blues and it just got worse. All around me there were signs that reminded me I wasn’t there anymore – the toilet. Strange but warmed toilet seats were awesome. I missed the infinite number of buttons, the 10 tracks of music and self-flushing function. Here I was – a sucker, living backwards on a cold toilet, making my own music and flushing my own toilet. We’re living in a backward time I tells you.
Our first meal: Ramen
Takoyaki - now affectionately known as Danger Balls
Unagi
Sushi
More food
Cherry Blossoms
Little Old man on a Bicycle
This is in the middle of the road - model raft
Across the road are skyscrapers
Jellyfish in Osaka
No Elephants Allowed
Who knows what this is meant to mean
Nike
Examples of Fashion forwardness??
This made me laugh
Samurai Dog decked out with a sword
Sake in a Juice Box - Easy height access for kids at a bargain price of $1.50
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Housing Prices
This is just part of Today’s Property Headline Article:
Australian first-home buyers face 4.5 year savings wait to buy property
HOUSING affordability has worsened during the past year, with first-home buyers needing to save 10 per cent more for a deposit, a report shows.
It was now taking 4.5 years to save for a 20 per cent house deposit, up from 3.7 years in the previous annual report.
Australian couples need to raise $85,800 deposit for a median-priced house, compared with $78,100 a year earlier, the Bankwest analysis showed.
Which leads me to think how much money are people earning to save $85,800 in 4.5years? I’m in the wrong line of work – Living the dream pays in happiness only.
Australian first-home buyers face 4.5 year savings wait to buy property
HOUSING affordability has worsened during the past year, with first-home buyers needing to save 10 per cent more for a deposit, a report shows.
It was now taking 4.5 years to save for a 20 per cent house deposit, up from 3.7 years in the previous annual report.
Australian couples need to raise $85,800 deposit for a median-priced house, compared with $78,100 a year earlier, the Bankwest analysis showed.
Which leads me to think how much money are people earning to save $85,800 in 4.5years? I’m in the wrong line of work – Living the dream pays in happiness only.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Magic does happen
The world has gone crazy with World Cup fever! I love it. The excitement, the yelling, the chance to eat salty treats in front of the TV. I’m captivated… no it’s not the players in tight shirts or the fluorescent orange and silver shoes which are astonishingly distracting. There’s a time in the game when “magic” happens.
Usually after the husband yells out “DIVER, get up and stop wasting time” – sometimes it’s more descriptive but you get the idea. A player is down, holding a limb, scrunching his face in pain – is it broken, is he going to make it? The medic team runs to his aid and pull out their secret weapon. Too small to be a stretcher, too big to be medicine and resembles a water squirty bottle. A few quick sprays are all they need. It’s fine – he’s ALIVE, catastrophe diverted!!
I’m amazed. What just happened? What was in that spray bottle? Where can I get some?? And like all good investigators – I Googled it.
It’s somewhat of a mystery, a conspiracy in fact. There are forums debating on this special formula. Some claiming it’s a cure for everything but the Government has been holding out on us. Cynics claim it’s a common numbing spray that’s effective for a short period of time. That is, if the player is fine and still running after 10 minutes, he faked the whole injury.
I like to believe in the best of people. That they’re professionals who uphold fair play, justice and freedom and all that jazz.
I choose to believe in magic – the Magic Spray Bottle: the cure for everything!
Seriously though, where can I get some??
Usually after the husband yells out “DIVER, get up and stop wasting time” – sometimes it’s more descriptive but you get the idea. A player is down, holding a limb, scrunching his face in pain – is it broken, is he going to make it? The medic team runs to his aid and pull out their secret weapon. Too small to be a stretcher, too big to be medicine and resembles a water squirty bottle. A few quick sprays are all they need. It’s fine – he’s ALIVE, catastrophe diverted!!
I’m amazed. What just happened? What was in that spray bottle? Where can I get some?? And like all good investigators – I Googled it.
It’s somewhat of a mystery, a conspiracy in fact. There are forums debating on this special formula. Some claiming it’s a cure for everything but the Government has been holding out on us. Cynics claim it’s a common numbing spray that’s effective for a short period of time. That is, if the player is fine and still running after 10 minutes, he faked the whole injury.
I like to believe in the best of people. That they’re professionals who uphold fair play, justice and freedom and all that jazz.
I choose to believe in magic – the Magic Spray Bottle: the cure for everything!
Seriously though, where can I get some??
Friday, July 2, 2010
Back to the basics
There’s something really gratifying about growing your own vegetables. They taste infinitely better then store bought vegetables. There’s a sense of accomplishment that your hard work paid off and you can enjoy the spoils of your labour. The knowledge of where it came from (5 metres from the kitchen) and what chemicals are in it – none – 100% water and 40% sunshine (the courtyard doesn’t get much).
It’s going back to the basics, back in time when things were much simpler – growing your own food, being self-sufficient. Sticking it to the man (big corporations with inflated prices and inferior products).
My most recent pet project – spring onions.
Most dishes require very little but it’s sold in the biggest bunch that doesn’t fit inside a plastic bag and takes up half a shelf in the fridge. Wouldn’t it be great if I could walk 5 metres and trim of a stalk or two? And now I can! It’s absurdly easy to grow.
Buy a bunch of spring onions with roots intact and chop it off 4-5cm from the bottom. Place in a container of water with 3-4cm of the stem above the water mark and leave it on a sunny window sill for a week till green shoots sprout. Transplant into pot. Sit back and relax – the little guys are going to make you proud.
Its brilliant – works regardless of how long it takes for the spring onions to reach your grocer and even if you leave the spring onions in the fridge for a week before beginning.
Is it just me or does it creep you out that they’re self-regenerative?
It’s going back to the basics, back in time when things were much simpler – growing your own food, being self-sufficient. Sticking it to the man (big corporations with inflated prices and inferior products).
My most recent pet project – spring onions.
Most dishes require very little but it’s sold in the biggest bunch that doesn’t fit inside a plastic bag and takes up half a shelf in the fridge. Wouldn’t it be great if I could walk 5 metres and trim of a stalk or two? And now I can! It’s absurdly easy to grow.
Buy a bunch of spring onions with roots intact and chop it off 4-5cm from the bottom. Place in a container of water with 3-4cm of the stem above the water mark and leave it on a sunny window sill for a week till green shoots sprout. Transplant into pot. Sit back and relax – the little guys are going to make you proud.
Its brilliant – works regardless of how long it takes for the spring onions to reach your grocer and even if you leave the spring onions in the fridge for a week before beginning.
Is it just me or does it creep you out that they’re self-regenerative?
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