Boring History Girl

the way to a good tourist's heart is through their stomach

2011-01-19T22:15:00.013+10:30

The food writing project organised by Nicky at Good.is has certainly inspired an exciting collection of perspectives, memories and desires for food and food writing. Ever since my food awakening at the Australian sea-side, food has been an all consuming part of my life. Equally consuming have been travel and cultural history, things I regularly combine.

Often when I visit cultural heritage locations, be they Royal Palaces in the UK, Imperial complexes in China or the ruins of Roman cities in Italy I am drawn, as a food person, to the kitchens. Searching out the warm and safe sensation from my favourite room of the house, and yet often I am left cold. Freshly cleaned floors, so different to mine with skins of onions mixed in with little piles of spilt sugar and pebbles of cat food. A few remnants of material culture - pots and pans, maybe some of which have been put on the hob or hung over the empty fire place. If I'm lucky there might be a wax cast of something that might be a kipper. Or is it supposed to be cake?

The one thing food writers and interpreters should have in common is passion. So why? Why is there so little passion displayed when interpreting our culinary cultural heritage?

For most of us who live in the parts of the world where we're lucky enough to eat every day, food is an integral and essential part of our lives. A cooked breakfast signifies a slow start to the weekend. A decedent meal on a special occasion. A quick bowl of noodles with a good friend on a weeknight evening. These are markers that help us to ascribe meaning to different parts of our lives. So many social events, in all cultures, revolve around food. This can only be reflected in the number of magazines, books, newspaper columns, television and radio programs, and even blogs that are dedicatedly pursuing the art and the essence of food and eating. When we travel food becomes a part of the whole experience. How often have you come back from some exotic location and one of the first things you're asked is "what was the food like?"?

The essence of interpretation theory and practice tells us that for interpretation to effectively tell a story, and allow visitors to engage with a message it needs four things. Without going into the psychology of this, one of these four things is relevance.

If it can be agreed that food and eating is something that we all use to define certain moments in our lives, finding relevance in food interpretation should be straight forward. If I go to Hampton Court Palace*, I want to have a Tudor food experience. Not this:

Don't (just) tell me that the cauldron holds nine-thousand gallons or they cooks started at 4am. Or even that they ate partridge. Why? When? What does it taste like? What does it smell like? There is evidence to show that introducing smell allows visitors to relate tourism sites to their own experiences. So pipe in the smells of meat roasting or bread baking from the cafe or restaurant. Instantly you're taking a cold, hard room and turning it into something warm and familiar.

Similarly, there is this regularly visited shop front in Pompeii, the local take-away:

Admittedly Pompeii - at least when I was there last almost eight years ago - suffers from not just bad interpretation, but no interpretation, and lack lustre maintenance, but what an opportunity to make classical history and the classical world instantly recognisable to the modern visitor! Did the ancient Romans go out for the first century equivalent of fish and chips, or pizza? How was it different to what they ate at home? What does it actually taste like? What can we relate it to in our own food experience?

There are so many excellent opportunities to bring history sites alive for people, particularly the younger members of the family. Make the most of it - make it edible. Appeal to not just the brain and the heart, but the stomach too. Why not put a second century Roman dish on the menu at the Pompeii restaurant (hold the garum for me please), or a Tudor dish rather than devonshire teas at Hampton Court? Let us smell, taste, feel the full experience. Done carefully, without too many unfamiliar or intimidating ingredients, what better way to get visitors excited about their visit (our host for this good.is project has expressed an interest in museum and gallery cafes too).

Why can't we tell someone we've been to the museum and have them ask "what was the food like?"?

* I have used Hampton Court Palace and Pompeii as examples in this post because I've been to both. In no way am I implying that these are bad places to visit, that the experiences are unfulfilling or their interpretation bad. Hampton Court Palace in particular has some excellent and exciting interpretation programmes. If you get the chance I highly recommend a visit. Ask them if they have partridge on the menu!

Food for Thinkers is a week-long, distributed, online conversation looking at food-writing from as wide and unusual a variety of perspectives as possible. Between January 18 and January 23, 2011, more than thirty food and non-food writers will respond to a question posed by GOOD's newly-launched Food hub: What does—or could, or even should—it mean to write about food today? You can check out the conversation in full at GOOD.is/food, join in the comments, and follow the Twitter hashtag #foodforthinkers to keep up-to-date as archaeologists, human rights activists, design critics, and even food writers share their perspective on what makes food so interesting.

Consuming passions - the culture of food writing

2011-01-17T21:25:00.010+10:30

Late last week I received an invitation via my good friend Dr Space Junk to participate in a food blogging event - yes DSJ knows me well. However, rather than just blogging about food we've eaten, or food we'd like to eat, or food we've cooked, or food we're thinking about cooking, this is a blog event about writing about food.

Walk in the park BHG I hear you say.

Well, yes.

And no.

And as I've been thinking about this post, and what it will contain, I'm taken back to - of all things - one of those team building events that one is often submitted to in the workplace. In this one all participants were asked to bring an item of significance with them and the rest of us had to see if we could conjure up which one of us it belonged to. I bought along a plastic spade from my days as a sandcastle architect. Resplendent in hot pink it has little seagulls and wave ripples moulded into it.

This spade, correctly or not, represents to me seemingly endless summers spent at Silver Sands beach in the outreaches (then) of the Adelaide suburbs. This was an idyllic location, and certainly the best of my childhood memories. Family upon family crammed into this beach house (many thanks to google.maps).

In the days before we were concerned with skin cancer, and with feminism and multi-culturalism on the rise a motley crew of women, children and men, Anglo, French, Italian, Greek, gay, straight were all crammed into the three bedrooms. I particularly remember the curtains the room where the children slept and I fell out of the top bunk without waking. I also remember the year I broke my foot and couldn't go because of the perilous stairs. I remember the sand running out of our swimmers in the downstairs shower and the musty smell that came out of the shed that contained surfboards and the ping pong table. I remember hot, hot days and cool nights of cricket in the backyard. I remember FABULOUS 1970s brown bottle glass in the windows which now, sadly, seems to have gone.

But aside from these drifting memories of the pre-iPod Australian summer, I remember two things. And both of these things relate to the long dining table, which probably wasn't as long as I remember it. I remember intricately prepared dinners where everyone, kids included, pitched in. I remember going out to the local farms to pick ears of corn and fresh berries that ended up on that table. I remember making fresh pasta and mousaka and wonderful crisp salad. And I remember the variety of languages spoken and the cultures that made up that commune.

Looking back at that plastic spade that I chose to bring along to my team building day, it represented the dining table. And I realised that's where two of my greatest loves in adult life emerged: food and language (and dinosaurs, but that's another post).

On an unconnected trip to a local ramen restaurant one of my friends commented on her inherent distrust of people who eat to live rather than live to eat. That summer holiday dining table certainly made me one of the later. And so now I talk about food, think about food, think about eating food (yes, I'm thinking about eating ramen as I type this), and I write about food. Even though I have famously said that this is no longer a food blog, you only need to look at the list of blogs that I follow to know that that's not really true (mmmmm... and the amount of time I blog about food).

This is a long (very long) and involved way of letting you know that good.is is starting a week of food blogging posts from an interesting and eclectic bunch of bloggers with an interest in food, and an interest in writing about food, or writing about the cultural implications of writing about food.

At some stage this week I will be blogging about cultural heritage, interpretation, and food. Now I have set the scene and provided the background of life dedicated to bigger thighs, stay tuned!

"Adelaide all but closed on Boxing Day"

2010-12-27T17:42:00.008+10:30

Well, Merry Christmas to you all. I hope you enjoyed a festive day, what ever your connection to Christmas, and had some good company and something good to eat. I certainly did, and all in all the eating seems to have continued, spurred on by a bout of hangover related pork consumption today.

And with the arrival of the post-Christmas haze comes the inevitable discussion on whether we can all survive another couple of days without punching someone in the face to get to a handbag in the post-Christmas sales. My thoughts on the matter, frankly, is that we can.

Admittedly, I'm not a shopper. I don't like to shop. I don't like to be in shops. In fact if I never had to spend a cent again, I'd probably be happy. The one major exception to this rule is cheese, but one so rarely finds cheese in the post-Christmas sales, if this is ever to change I am more than willing to revisit my stance on the sales.

But until that happens, seriously people, stay at home with friends or family, or if you're sick to death of friends and family pop a DVD in the machine, or take a long nap. Enjoy a couple of days embracing the relaxing time of year, particularly as this year in Adelaide is experiencing some mild summer days that make doing not very much at all very very easy to do.

There is an argument that tourists will be upset that they can't shop. Now, I like to think I'm relatively well travelled, my little facebook widget thingy tells me I've visited over 200 cities in more than twenty countries. And never. Never. Has the opening hours of department stores influenced my travel decisions. However, if you are a tourist in this fair city, and perplexed as to what you will do as you're not able to purchase cut-price crystal ware, here are my top 10 suggestions of alternative activities to fill your time.

1. On Your Bike
Bike SA allows you to hire a bike and a helmet from a number of 'hubs' around town, including backpackers and hotels, meaning that on Boxing Day you can hire a bike and hit the roads. Adelaide is pretty flat and surrounded by parklands, so unless you're planning on tackling the peak hour rush on some of the city's less friendly arterial roads, it's easy to get around. I suggest taking the linear park track from the city at Elder Park to Henley Square (passing the Christmas decorations at the brewery), where you can have coffee, walk along the jetty and dip your toe in the ocean. Alternatively put the bike on the train (which is free on weekends) and take the Marino Rocks to McLaren Vale route, which is longer with bigger hills, but you end up in McLaren Vale, which is coffee and cheese! See a theme here?

2. Don't Just Sit There - Eat Something
One thing that SA does well is food. And inexpensive food at that. For some uber-chic people watching on a budget, hit the Exeter or Austral Hotels in Rundle Street early to snap up an outdoor table. Enjoy a couple of pints of SA's Pride and Joy, with some of the best pub food you'll find anywhere. I personally recommend the mushroom burgers at the Exeter.

If you want a bit of spice in your life, head to China Town. Not the biggest complex you're likely to ever encounter, but lots of gems. Silky prawn jiaozi at Dumpling King, pork noodles at the Noodle Kingdom, BBC at Yin Chow, or salt and pepper eggplant at East Taste. Or go Indian at Maya or the Village. Wash it all down at the end with another Adelaide institution, gelati at Cibo.

3. The Real Boxing Day Tradition
The Boxing Day test. Find a pub or a bar or an RSL showing it on the big screen - it won't be hard. If you're from a cricket playing nation, mock the appalling form of the previous world number ones. If you've never watched the game, sidle up to a local and get them to explain the rules. You probably won't understand it on the first run through, but it's a great way to meet some locals, have a couple of drinks, and it's something to tell the folks about back home. Warning though, once you get the knack of it, it's addictive!

4. Fur, Wings and Keratin Spikes
The Adelaide Zoo, Monarto Zoo and Cleland Wildlife Park are all open over the holidays, although you'll need wheels to get to Monarto (but the Adelaide Zoo is a bike hire hub, see number 1!). Yes, we have pandas, if you've been here for more than ten seconds you'll have worked that out. But Cleland has all of the cuddly critters those from overseas expect to see. Monarto has a new chip exhibition, and southern white rhinos. Be there for the keepers talk as if the right animal is there with the keepers supervision you can touch his impressive horn. No, not that one......

5. Hit the 'Burbs
One of the joys of a small town is that stuff is easy to get to. If you've got access to a car, hit some of the best suburbs anywhere. The Adelaide Hills are alive with cherries, almonds, oompah bands and some of the best wineries you'll ever want to discover. If you're feeling flush, splash out for lunch at the Bridgewater Mill, or the Lane. If you're feeling slightly more frugal try Pot Belly Pies in the main street in Hahndorf.

Or go south. McLaren Vale is less than an hour's drive away. Wine, coffee, cheese, chocolate, art, jewellery. It's got it all. I can't go past the pate at the Currant Shed. Go hungry. And you're close enough to the ocean that you can go swimming after (find a beach patrolled by a Surf Life Saving Club)

6. Walk the Gangplank, 'me hearty
A good one if you've got kids. The Maritime Museum at Port Adelaide has something for all ages, but at the moment they've a special pirate Skulduggery experience for the wee ones which will win you brownie points and buy you some time at the cafe across the road after. While in the neighbourhood you can also take a cruise on the Port River and try some dolphin spotting.

7. Discover your inner-Hippy
The Adelaide Botanic Gardens may not have size, but they make up for it in charm. The guided walks are done by volunteers, and if you get a good one they're fantastic. Make sure they take you to the mortuary of the old insane asylum. Who said gardens are boring! The garden has lots of hidden little nooks and crannies, wander down the paths and suddenly find yourself in a wide open grass area, with a creek flowing through and not another soul around.

8. Commune with the Dead
It may seem like an odd thing to do, but you learn a lot about a place from it's cemeteries, and they're open every day! Have a dig about (pun intended) and find the Jewish section, and the Catholic section (lots of nuns and Jesuit priests). I understand that the cemetery is working on a guided walk, but I don't think it's ready yet, so just wander. It's close to town and within strolling distance of everything.

9. Get some Culture
Adelaide's North Terrace has something for everyone. The Art Gallery has a great permanent collection of classical, contemporary and Indigenous art, and usually has at least two touring exhibits on at any time, at the moment they have one on Indigenous dessert artists. The SA Musuem has all of the usual contenders, but also has a new Biodiversity Gallery, you can walk in the footsteps of Douglas Mawson and check out his Arctic hut and marvel at the old world kookiness of the Egyptian Gallery, including mummies. Make sure the kids checkout the lion in the entry. Wait for his tail to flick and scare the living daylights out of them. Just next door is the Migration Museum, which has a great collection of artifacts from all of the people who have contributed to making South Australia what it is today. Their community gallery features a changing collection of exhibits, produced in collaboration with Adelaide's different ethic communities.

10. Get Wet
Heard that the waters of SA are full of sharks? Well - they are. Lovely to walk along but sometimes dangerous to get in. If you're swimming in the sea, please, make sure you swim between the flags at a patrolled beach as they will have a shark patrol. If you'd like to get into the water, but fancy going home with all of your limbs, Adelaide has some great swimming pools. The North Adelaide Aquatic Center is indoors and has a range of pools for those intending on doing the laps, or those who just want a paddle. On some days the dive board is also open to amateur bellyfloppers. If you'd like something out doors, and a little more sedate many councils operate swimming pools. My suggestions are Unley, Hazelwood Park and Marion.

There you go. If that doesn't keep you amused for two days when the shops are closed I don't know what will. If you're reading this, now or ever, and think you'd like to check out one of these places, please ring first to check opening hours, current exhibitions and prices.

If you're reading this and you're from the SATC you can contact me through this blog to let me know where to send the invoice.

a tour of chez-bhg

2010-12-12T13:23:00.006+10:30

Whilst tidying up so that I can do the floors, I realised you could do a tour of my house, and my life, through shoes. All of these photos were taken in the last 10 minutes – i.e. these shoes were already here, I didn't put them down for the purpose of this post.

Please also note the first sentence. I am about to clean my floors. This is as bad as it gets. Also note, it's molting season for my three cats....

So, welcome inside. If you've been out riding, please leave your shoes at the door. The cleats can damage the floorboards

Just inside is where you leave the shoes you put on when you go to take the bins out, or breakup late night cat fights.
To your right, you'll find the lounge room. A place to relax and take your shoes off after a long day at work, or a walk up the hill.

These purple shoes are the ones I wear in the garden, and around the house. They're so comfortable, but unfortunately too dirty for proper company. The pair underneath are also very comfy and together they form a nice group of dangerous Australian aquatic life, cros and sharks.

I was going to wear these ones out to breakfast today, but couldn't find the other, so this poor lonely shoe was abandoned on the couch.

Before we continue to the tour, maybe you need to use the facilities? Of course here's the answer to age old dilemma of when you get home late at night and you can't work out what you want to do more - pee or take your shoes off.

From here we move to the bedroom - always a hiding place for many an abandoned pair of shoes. I got this pair on a trip to Rome about six years ago - so they're my Roman Sandals

This one was lost behind one of my speakers. Very old and shabby but very comfortable.

These are hand embroidered, but so old, they're covered with dust and have a loose piece of bubble wrap sitting on top of them.

Finally, we make our way into the kitchen for a cuppa. Take your shoes off, make yourself at home.

And these are the ones I had on when I was taking the photos. They are now sitting on the floor of the study as I type this. Which as turned out quite nicely as the typing has formed a distraction from cleaning the floors, which means that I can leave the shoes there a little longer.

All together - fourteen pairs.

life is pretty good

2010-11-14T20:02:00.004+10:30

I went to a gig last night. Years ago that would be have a standard Saturday night out, these days – it's extraordinary.

Good mate Princess and I went to see the Charlatans, who have been in my life almost as long as I've been an adult, with their stonking track The Only One I Know* coming out the year I turned 18 (go on, do the maths). When I lived in the UK my flat mate, Geordie, and all round party girl Debs and I had it bad for Mr Tim Burgess, and I was kinda wishing I was able to be with her to see them play. All in all it's probably a good thing Debs didn't make the trip from her cosy house in Tyne-on-Wear. The band looked old. The band looked bored. And not long after so did I. And Princess too. I leaned over and said 'I'm happy to go back to the Worlds End for a pint if you'd rather'. She rathered. She also said it looked like Mr Burgess had taken a particularly strong trip in about 1991 and had never come down from it. Too bad it didn't get them bouncing off the walls. I didn't get to hear Only One I Know, but I was sure it would be an encore and I just couldn't be bothered waiting around that long.

So we did go back to the Worlds End, where we'd eaten before the show (tip: Saturday night is $15 parmie and pint night, and very nice it was too). These days I'm nearly 40 and Princess has two kids under the age of three, so late Saturday nights at the boozer are not a common event for us. This venue used to be a semi-regular haunt for us when we were young and on the streets, and the clientele has certainly changed, but that's probably for a future post on the death of feminism....

This evening, and conversations with some of more-academically minded friends have made something apparent to me. In my early twenties my successful, academically minded friends were nose-down-bum-up, hard at study and focused on where they were going. I on the other hand, was hanging around at gigs and drinking waaaay to much beer with musos, roadies and groupies. Hence me slogging at a Masters degree in my 40s, while many of my friends had PhDs under the belts in their mid twenties.

Would I change it? Hell no. As Princess said, quite out the blue - we've done some good stuff in our lives, haven't we. This was sort of phrased in a "we're old and boring now, but..." kind of way. But it was 9.30 and we were both tipsy on our fifth beer and ready for home, so I knew what she meant. Princess and I have travelled Australia and the world together, been in at least three share houses together, laughed, cried, and held each other's hair while we were throwing up. We can also fight like no other friends can.

She's right tho, between us we have:

gone to school in France
lived in a small village in rural China
built an orphanage in Kenya (not single handed though!)
shared a lift with Nick Cave
lived through hepatitis and malaria (one a piece)
danced in precariously high heals to Robbie Williams with the cutest boy on the floor
done tray after tray of shots in those horrible sticky, plastic shooter glasses
ridden cycles and vespas to exciting locales
woken up with the rhythm section of the support act asleep on our lounge floor
picked up the lead singer of strange country-ska acts
done countless all night sessions of Donkey Kong Country
got some of the best tattoos in town, from the best tattoo artists in town
eaten BBQ'd chicken hearts on the silk route
SCUBA dived, parachuted and paraglided
ended up homeless on the streets of Athens
bargained for carpets whilst drinking endless cups of tea in Varanasi

to name just a few.

And last night we got caught up in a friendly street tussle with the Hilltop Hoods.

Yep, it's been a good life.

* it should be noted that this stonking dance floor favourite is now being used to flog chocolate.

exciting things are happening

2010-10-24T16:43:00.004+10:30

What's been happening? I already told you - exciting things. There have been some non-exciting things too. I'm not going to the IAA conference in Tasmania next month (no leave, no cash). In fact the no cash thing is pretty much the most unexciting thing in my life, making the very act of eating a financial decision - can I afford to eat that? The answer, usually, is probably not.

But why so cash-strapped BHG? Glad you asked. It has to do with - exciting things!

Exciting Thing Number One
And expensive thing number one. Flights booked.

After boring everyone with my plans to spend my fortieth in Greece next year, I've put my money where my boring is and booked. Actually I booked for three. The other two will come back to me, but not for a while, so Exciting Thing Number One has made me very very poor. But excited

Of course, I have also booked rooms and bought guide books, so the guide orgy has begun. Bus schedules, hotel prices, museum opening hours, I can quote you the lot!

Exciting Thing Number Two
Ethics granted.

Mercy lordy, this has been a hard and bloody slog. Hundreds of pages of forms, and other forms, and extra questions and comments called for. I understand that ethics are important, but it's like a job application - the same questions asked a thousand times in a different format. My university also also famous for, amongst other things, producing the most god-awful, unusable, badly formatted forms known to god. This particular one is a the pinnacle of bad design unfortunately.

But, it's over now and the permission seeking stage has begun!

Exciting Thing Number Three
It's a little bit sunny. I don't like really sunny, but this is OK. I still need a jacket on inside, but the laundry's dry, the cats and warm and snuggly and ready to have their tummies kissed, and outdoor eating is upon us.

So, I feel it's time to mark Exciting Thing Number One with a Greek lunch. Which means a couple of hours away from the methodology chapter to write out the invites. Like I said, exciting things.

Exciting Thing Number Four
My mummy comes home next weekend.

Over and out.

I dream of themes

2010-10-06T20:33:00.004+10:30

It is well documented that I am lazy. Bone lazy. Actually, that's not technically true. More, that I like to do what I like to do. mmmmm.... what do I like to do?:

sleep
eat dumplings
scour youtube.com for old Blur videos
write

And write this sort of stuff, truth be known. Not writing theses, trying to make a lot out of not very much at all. And recently it's turned me into a bit of a social networker (in an attempt to write what I want and not what I should. There's this blog. And a couple of others. And facebook. And more recently Twitter. I've bagged twitter very much for a very long time, but now it turns out I quite like it. I have no followers except for Dr Space Junk - so go and find me and follow me now. oooooooo.... how I long for approval.

And all of this tweeting, and blogging and stuff has drawn my attention to one thing - I'm not writing the stuff I like to write and writing the thesis is actually distracting me for the stuff I really like to do, and that's Interpretation.

And how did I get on this roller-coaster of unemployability** I hear you ask... well, here's the story.

One day, dunno about four years ago, I was at my desk as a state government employed events manager. It was OK, the events weren't big and I got to hob-knob it with those in the art world from time-to-time. But in government you have to do PD (professional development) with clockwork like precision. And one eventually runs out of things in which to develop oneself. So I googled 'events professional development', and up popped a little university run events course. Not that I though that much about it, it was just another tick in a bureaucratic box for me, so I rang to enquire.

Now, I ended up talking not to the events guy (now known as Brown Steve), instead I got JJ. JJ could sell ice to the penguins. I rang up to enquire about 3 days of PD, and by the end of the call I was enrolled in a Masters degree. No - really. She's that good. I tell this story sometimes as part of my introduction during workshops and people think I'm making it up. But part of this degree was another 3-day workshop on Interpretation, which I had never heard about and if you'd asked me I would have thought it was something about languages.

Hooked. Instantly hooked.

I was like someone had turned a light on inside me, and I saw the world in a whole new way.

And so I am here, writing the thesis, and really wishing I was writing interpretation. And recently I've been tweeting about interp, and reading interp blogs, and posting things about interp (like the dollar bill post below) and just dying to write something creative.

aaaagggghhhhhh.

And this is another little tit-bit that I got from IBD (and which you can also see on the Kulula airlines website).

As IBD point out, this is hardly the height of sophistication, but by-golly-by-jim, it caught my eye and made me giggle (and now I'm writing about it, so it must have worked). Maybe it's the references to Dead Poet's Society – which is actually a reference to Walt Whitman – or maybe it's because I have always had an affinity to airlines because of my beloved Uncle John.

Speaking of Uncle John, I get to see him in Greece next year. For my fortieth birthday party. For which I am on the verge of booking flights.

I'm sure there's a theme in there somewhere, dying to get out.

** like degrees in Classics and Archaeology in the 1990s didn't make me unemployable enough!!

more bang for your buck

2010-10-01T11:54:00.004+09:30

A recent post on Interpretation By Design talks about a contest recently held (it closed yesterday) to redesign American paper money. The contest itself was run by designers, not by the US Government, so the winner is not actually going to end up on currency.

Both IBD and the Dollar ReDe$ing Project tackle an interesting problem, faced by interpreters all the time - how to make something complex, with multiple layers into something easily understood by all (although comments on the contest's page are slightly less than enthusiastic). What I think it's about is asking Americans who they think they are? Currency is intensely important for this, when the Romans conquered a new land one of the first things they did was mint new coins, in local denominations but with the Emperor's face on it. This is an amazing piece of propaganda, most of us handle currency everyday in a very matter of fact manner. Once we're comfortable and familiar with our notes and coins we become comfortable and familiar with their images. And all of a sudden half of our grain is going to Rome as tax and we don't think that's so strange. This was one of my big beefs with the Euro - taking away countries' sense of identities and cultural, historical and ethnic differences. Bad thing. The again, many would say the same thing about the EU in general, and its endless regulations, particularly cheese producers.

I can't see how changing the pictures can help the economy, as claimed by the organisers, but it's an interesting exercise how a nation sees its-self, well at least how a nation's designers see themselves. This is one of my favourites. Brings a whole new meaning to 'I Love Lucy'.

not something you see every day

2010-09-27T19:57:00.002+09:30

Traffic chaos spreads after mayonnaise spill

picnic

2010-09-25T20:19:00.002+09:30

Today in an attempt to execute further avoidance techniques towards my thesis writing I went for a short ride to chez-Dr Space Junk, who had kindly invited me down for a picnic.

A lovely afternoon was spent in the park, eating very unhealthy food and half a bottle of wine. It was deeeeelicious tho. At least the bike ride may have burned off maybe the dip. Or the macaroons. Not both. And certainly not the roast chicken...

but anyhoo, DSJ was talking about how, on a recent trip to Brisbane to visit fellow archaeologist and sewing whiz Wallis, she had joined Twitter.

I've got a million blogs. And a facebook account I hardly ever use. But now, so that I could see how it works, I too have a twitter account. Mercy, when will it end.

But I've almot finished the lit review, and it's not nearly as crap as it could be

roll up, roll up

2010-09-15T15:52:00.008+09:30

This post is a little late. Weeks late. It's a photo thing (and a lazy thing).

However, a couple of Mondays ago, something pretty sad happened. On his way to work some poor chap had a heart attack in the car, veered across three lanes of traffic, onto the other side of the road, and plowed into a stobbie pole. Luckily he didn't take anyone with him, and from all accounts died quickly.

And took out the power on most of the south ridge of the university.

Now, universities are strange places. Very caught up on things like.... dunno OHS&W, and not so caught up on things like.... dunno, quality assuring assessment*.

But maybe that's just me.

Anyway, at about 9.30 when the emergency lighting was about to go it was decided that it was an EMERGENCY as we had to survive on natural light and this was obviously going to lead to an ACCIDENT.

So the alarms were sounded and we were ordered out of the building. NOW. Because it was an EMERGENCY.

Heaven help us.

Anyway, it was a Monday, the sun was unusually sunny in the sky for this time of the year and we were foot loose and fancy free. So, of course Dr Space Junk and I decided to go to the Royal Adelaide Show. I love the show - how excitement. It's less excitement for DSJ, as she is a farm girl, and grew up around all of the things I get such a kick out of. But she was a very good friend and followed me to the pigs (my favourite) and the cows and the milking shed. I love watching the milking, I think it just brings back of memories of cold, early starts for her.

But it was show time, so we also checked out:

The cheese and wine pavilions

Bad interpretation. Dreadful. All tourism experiences have been ruined for me, forever, I fear.

the food halls

I made a remark about a guy with a huge salami. DSJ thought I was saying something quite different until she saw these.. tsk tsk.

The piggies!

I love the piggies. They're cute. And delicious. What more could you ask?

And also the wood chopping.

Everyone likes the wood chopping, must be something in our genes. the same guy has been competing here since I was a wee one, and I still get excited when I see him wield the axe.

... ... and we saw a marching band while we were having dinner (it's a dark photo I know). They were quite good, only a few bum notes, and much to the horror of DSJ, I got up and danced.

We also saw the textiles, the cakes and preserves, other baked goods, walked around the show bag hall, ate some curry, visited the CWA, bought a fairy on a stick.

We also visited the main arena, where the show was being stage directed by friend Brown Steve. Again DSJ proved her self a good friend by sitting through the pipe band with me. It's my lifelong dream to play the pipes in a pipe band.

And exhausted we went home, stopping at the train station to watch the fireworks. Until next year...

* this is not to say that we don't have quality assessment, but there's resistance to actually quantifying and recording it.

more freaking things

2010-09-03T11:48:00.002+09:30

We've had blue fuzzy things recently - the cat-boy and the cookie monster.

When commenting on how hilarious it was that the cookie monster should be given fruit I was made aware of something I had hitherto be unaware of. It would seem that these days the cookie monster does indeed eat fruit. Apparently cookies are 'bad' and as such the good people at the Sesame Street Warehouse decided that the old blue shaggy guy was making kids fat, not their parents, or their peers, or their schools, or their community. No, it's the poor old cookie monster. Shame on him. So now he's reformed, and does eat fruit. WTF indeed.

As for the blue cat guy he was in the refectory yesterday as I was ordering my laksa, dressed in a full body suit like the one pictured above, only black. He was coming up and tapping people on the shoulder. Scared the shit out me.

blue fuzzy things

2010-09-01T19:43:00.002+09:30

Yesterday it was a fruit-burdened cookie monster, today it's this fellow. Frankly I find him a little bit frightening. Costumes where you can't see people's faces freak me out a bit. If he sat in a theatre next to me, I'd have to move I think.

This is one of our first years. He comes into classes regularly dressed in costumes. The other day he was Zorro. Today he was this blue catish thing. In another class all the guys came in wearing tuxedos recently.

This is funny. I mean quite funny. And it shows the power of facebook, because that's how they organise it.

But then again, when I was a student, there wasn't facebook. And we didn't all come in dressed as cartoon characters. We organised sit-ins in the union building. Using flyers, god damn it. Yes, we stood in the cloisters and handed out pieces of paper. Which we had written on (some even had individual paintings on them, like Underground Lovers limited releases). And we changed the world.

Oh, hang on. No we didn't actually. Although we did save the Women's Room from closing. I wonder if there is still a Women's Room?

Maybe we should have all just come in dressed as cats.....

WTF

2010-08-30T20:57:00.002+09:30

I should be writing something witty and insightful about the (non) election results - the whole of the nation should be sent to the chalk board to write 100 times "I will elect a majority government".

However I just found this photo that made me laugh so hard it scared the cats, so I thought I'd share. It relates to nothing in particular.

sausages

2010-08-15T20:34:00.003+09:30

mmmm... sausages. Could there be anything better in the world than fatty meat (pork preferably) seasoned and stuffed inside intestines. I'm doing my bit - toad in the hole for breakfast this morning, cheese kranskis tomorrow.

Maybe I should start a sausage blog. Or have sausage month. At least I'd keep in theme as I'd probably look like one by the end.

On an unrelated topic, this time next week, we'll know which dim witted soul will be representing us to the world. It's a tough call, but if push comes to shove - and it will - I'm hoping for this particular dim witted soul. Not that I'd vote for her as such....

the most boring post in the world

2010-08-14T18:50:00.002+09:30

Not that proof was needed, but here is the proof: I am a damned procrastinator. Again. I know.

Today
5.30am
Feed and medicated animals

6.10am
Fell back asleep. Soundly

11.45am
Woke. Shite. Didn't realise that I was that tired

11.45am-2.30pm
Ate dumplings, took a couple of phone calls, lay on the bed with the animals, brought the laundry (still soaking wet) in from the line. Did today's sodoku, checked my email accounts, generally fucked around

2.30pm
Drove to University. Killed sometime visiting colleagues working at the Open Day. Sold the benefits of an archaeology degree, practiced my French with Monsieur.

3pm
Hit the library. Got more work done that I have all week, including finding new references, photocopying chapters from books that were almost due back, and then even reading those photocopies

6pm
Library closed, so returned home

6.15pm to present
Heated and ate soup. Kissed the kittens. Emailed friends. Broke up cat fight outdoors.

the horrible reality is, I will have to start going to the library on the weekend.

oh my lord, the outrage

2010-08-07T12:31:00.003+09:30

This weekend has turned into quite a slack affair. Friday was spent either largely in the markets or watching a selection of rented DVDs – not something I do very often, I'm notorious for my ADD-esque lack of attention. I have to get up three of four times during a movie to go and do something else for a bit. Hell, I've already got up to make a cuppa while writing this post....

As Friday is now my food shopping day, Saturday has officially become my 'sleep until you're done day', and today was no exception. I rose at 10.30. Poached eggs and made tea. I've streamed a television show I missed during the week, and changed the kitty litter. And that's about it. Almost.

One of the reasons that I'm feeling a bit slack is the study monster. It's getting nailed down, and although I'm yet to negotiate it, most of the data collection will probably happen in late October, early November. Which means between then and now what I have to do has been minimised. So I'm allowing myself to take this weekend off from study, mostly. However in a fortnight I've got to spend the day in Melbourne scoping out one of my venues.

Now, last time I went to Melbourne, it was a disaster. Actually it rates as one of the worst days of my life (which shows just how jammy my life is). But I'm giving one of my favourite Australian places another go, and have booked to be there the whole day. Decisions: pho in China town or Greek in Lygon Street? Or maybe a cafe in Brunswick Street. What to do after I've left the Immigration Museum. I could train it out to the Scienceworks Museum. Or the Melbourne Zoo to see the baby elephant. And then someone reminded me of the Titanic Exhibition.

I'd really like to see the Titanic Exhibition. It's got some great reviews and uses some interesting interpretive techniques (which I suspect they nicked holus bolus from Port Arthur). After the Great Pompeii Disaster of 2009 I decided to pre-purchase my ticket. It's expensive, but the costs of the show must be huge. I was happy to shell out extra for the audio tour. But then!

Then!

There's a collection fee. Yes, I'm going to be charged $5 to walk up to the counter, tell them my name and get my ticket. No options. No postal version. No 'print your own'. Jeezus. With this it would mean the exhibition would cost me nearly as much as the flight there.

So now I have to make the decision. How much to I want to see this exhibition? I could get the tram to the Zoo and get in for free with my Adelaide Zoo Members card, and goo a the baby elephant. I likes elephants.

What do you think? Would you pay $5 for the honour of collecting a ticket. If you really wanted to go?

it's on

2010-07-31T17:53:00.006+09:30

"Your guilty conscience may force you to vote Democratic,
but deep down inside you secretly long for a cold-hearted Republican
to lower taxes, brutalise criminals
and rule you like a king"

Thanks Bob. Never a truer word have been spoken. Here in old Awhstrahlia, instead of having Democrats and Republicans we have The Australian Labor Party and the Liberal Party.

Traditionally, the Liberal Party is the party of fat and well being. I think they would say they pride themselves on keeping the books balanced, on making sure homes gets a double garage and that middle class Australians pay as little tax as possible, including by cutting public services (read: health and education). The Liberal Party is who Australia turns to when it's feeling a little cold and hungry. When it's not sure what's around the corner, and how we're going to pay for it.

The Australian Labour Party on the other hand plays to what, most of us, feel is just. Notable ALP victories in my life time include Gough Whitlam, who came to power in 1972 as Australians were sick of bigoted foreign policy that had got us caught up in the Vietnam War (and gave us the best campaign slogan ever).

Whitlam also began Australian's on the road to Reconciliation when he famously poured sand into the hand of Vincent Lingiari -a Gurindji man's - hand, starting the ball rolling for land rights and native title. He also laid the foundations for our current system of accessible health care and legal aid.

Unfortunately Whitlam was especially bad at balancing the books and was dismissed from power by the Governor General on Armistice Day 1975.

Labor Prime Ministers have continued in his footsteps, with commitments (real or spin) to health, education, diversity and human rights. They've taken other steps towards reconciliation, most notably Paul Keating's marvelous Redfern Address

and Kevin Rudd's Apology speech.

Kevin 07 rode into power as most Australians were sick of putting our tired, sick and huddled masses into off-shore detention centers. We were sick of licking some foreign arses, while blowing the shit out of others. We were sick of climate change sceptics, misogyny and Wallabies tracksuits.

And here we are three years later, and once again the ALP has shot itself in the foot. Despite a strong start, and amazingly managing to handle the GFC extraordinarily well, it's made poor taxation decisions and partaken in infighting in an election year.

***sigh***

and now, with a new leader, they've adopted policies that make it difficult to tell the parties about. It's not so much a case of "he said, she said", but "what she said".

At least I get to host the greatest of traditions: the election night party. So we can drink beer and watch the ABC while Antony Green crunches the numbers.

I'm cooking pork.

And we started with Bob. Maybe another Bob's in with a chance this time?

viva espana

2010-07-12T21:55:00.001+09:30

catch up

2010-07-11T12:31:00.002+09:30

So, aside from eating my own hair and dreaming of star wars pancake moulds, what the hell I have I been up to?

1. Thesis
Going slowly, but at least it's going. I was supposed to review my lit review this weekend on the basis in a change in question. mmmmmm... that's probably not going to happen, but I WILL finish my ethics application. Need to get a police check to go with it. Hopefully they don't know about any of the stuff I got up to in my 20s.....

2. Staying Warm
Or not. It's been fucking cold. I know weather is the most boring blog topic possible, but it's been so cold it's been the constant topic of conversation with all. My office thermometer reads 7 degrees when I arrive in the morning, and I shiver for the rest. This does have a connection with point 1, as it's just too cold to work in my home study in the evenings. My fingers don't work on the keyboard. Good excuse I think.

3. Sleeping
What better to do when it's cold and you don't want to study than sleep. mmmmmm.... sleep

4. Simpsons
When you're not sleeping you can watch the Simpson's 20th anniversary season on DVD.

5. Hate your job
Since going part time recently, I have realised just how much I hate my job. Or maybe I just hate working. Yes, that seems more the point. So while watching the Simpsons between naps I think of ways to not work. This has probably been the least successful of my recent ventures, as it will see me back in my cold, heartless office tomorrow.

6. Eating
Lots. Last night it was Indian style roast beef (not for the Hindus) and Bulgarian pepper and feta toast. Odd combination. One of the cooks is Bulgarian. They other just likes roast beef. Today I've had bacon and egg rolls at the farmers market, come home with rabbit to braise and am out tonight for curry and too much red wine, I would hazard a guess.

7. Football
Finally, but not least, talking about the football. I have watched very little of it, as it's just been too cold for 4.30am kick offs. But working with a range of Europeans and South East Asians (not to mention the Brits), it's been a hot topic of conversation. I need one of those looser t-shirts that says 'I support France and anyone playing Germany', so even though Les Bleus didn't make it past the group stage - in spectacular style - German's out of the grand final, and that makes me happy. Will do my best to get up this morning and watch Spain and the Netherlands fight it out. Smart money's on Spain. But I have a soft spot for the little orange warriors.

Interesting point that I once read somewhere. When you have a tendency to travel the world as much as I do you realise that carrots can come in many colours: orange, yellow, white, purple. Although they all pretty much taste the same. But at one point or another the Dutch were producing almost all of Europe's carrots. And naturally they preferred orange, which is why in the west we only have orange carrots.

True or not, I don't know. But it's a good story.

just once

2010-06-21T19:06:00.000+09:30

I'd like to eat a meal and not find one of my hairs in it.

choux and chewbacca

2010-06-12T14:48:00.003+09:30

Another entry in my extended research into procrastination.

Today JC came round to help my bake my own birthday cake. But not just any cake, croquembouche (french for 'crack in the mouth'. Not crack as in amphetamines sold in dodgy neighbourhoods, crack the verb, as in I cracked my favourite coffee cup). This was to be my first ever croquembouche.

Croquembouche is choux pastry, filled with custard (ours was chocolate) and then built into a conical shape around a metal mould, and held together with hard toffee, which is also spun around the resulting pyramid to make think web of strung toffee.

It was much easier than I thought (partly due to the gift of new, and expensive piping bags) and we only ended up with third degree burns to 75% of our bodies from the toffee.

We had about six pastries each before I went door knocking the neighbours with kids to off load the rest. I have hurt my jaw from all the toffee and am going to have to go an lie down in a minute, such is the sugar crash currently going on in my endocrine system.

However in a short web browse before my nap, I checked some emails and some new posts. Garrett at Vanilla Garlic who has also had a recent birthday was talking about the prices of cookware in some store I am not familiar with. Googling it to find out what he was talking about I found these:

I think it is fair to say that my life will never be complete until I own a set of Star Wars pancake moulds.

Also, France drew with Uruguay in the first set of Group A matches early this morning. All matches were draws. I got up early to watch France play. Found the game to be dreary beyond words and went back to bed. We're up against Mexico next I think. Hopefully this will be a better match.

feet and butter

2010-06-05T13:47:00.005+09:30

Today is a good day. A remarkably good day. It is cold and misty, the way I like it. But, still, the sun is shining a way that indicates that the washing in the machine may end up dry today.
And in the machine? Socks. Well, other things too, but predominantly socks. It seems that every time I lift up something in my house: a book, the saucepan I like to cook pasta in, one of the cats. There's a sock. Now, I'm not the greatest housekeeper in the world. I know everyone says that, but I really mean it. Seriously - I live on my own. I don't have to keep the house clean for children, or husbands, or visiting literati. I only have to keep the house clean for me. And most of the time I couldn't be fucked. I'd much rather read a book, or cook pasta, or sit with the cats. But the sock conundrum probably can't be all down to me. Can it?

OK, part of my disinterest in domesticity is now well placed with my penchant for footwear. I wish my camera was working, and then I could show evidence for this. Currently on the floors in my house are twelve pairs of shoes. And that doesn't include the pair on my feet. So it would come to reason that I would have many socks. But so many? But, undeniably the evidence is there. A washing machine full of socks, and a Persian rug in the lounge where the only thing obscuring the cat hair is the shoes. But today at least the socks will be dry.

Another reason today is a good day? I am supposed to be curbing my spending now that I have joined the ranks of the part time employed. More frugality, less indulgence. Ba-bowh. Today I spent the same amount as you would spend on a good steak on butter. French butter. Methode traditionnelle butter.

And to put the butter on? As close to proper French baguette as you're going to get in Adelaide. With creamy, rich, lush to die for French butter on it, so that the softness of the bread spreads the wonderful feel of the butter over every inch of your mouth.

Dreamy.

Today is a day of dreams. It's a day when I can dream that my thesis is not in as bad a shape as I fear it is (it's not the whole thesis. Just the research design. OK, yes I know that's the whole thesis, but give me this dreamy day). It's a day when I can dream of lying in bed all day listening to rain on the roof. It's a day when I can dream of Greek islands, and Czech castles. Of long, luxurious lunches with my favourite people and drinking pinot noir around crackling camp fires in my sleeping bag. It's a day when life feels like it's going to be OK forever.

Not bad, really.

progress

2010-05-29T15:22:00.002+09:30

On Thursday I had a meeting with my supervisor. Actually I had a meeting with the whole academic staff as they discussed who would be my supervisor, who would be the internal examiner (this person will have hot coffee on his desk for the rest of the year!) and who will be the secondary supervisor. I then had a 90 minutes conversation with my secondary supervisor about what is wrong with my paper while my primary supervisor sat by silently.

Now, this is no comment on my supervisor, he is probably the most academically inclined member of the staff. However the secondary one is by far the most powerful and opinionated member of staff, and the one I know the best. But after that 90 minutes I now feel I have much better handle on where the whole project is going, and have managed to re-write a large amount of material (some on screen, some in my head), to pull the whole thing together.

And I've decided I need to go on a road trip. I mean study trip. To Melbourne. Which will involve lots of serious study stuff and not so much shopping, and certainly not dinner at MoVida. I am currently obsessed with the idea of dinner at MoVida. I do seriously like Melbourne. But today I could easily be there. It's the Saturday of the first of my new three day weekend structure. It's cold. It's wet. I have what must be my twentieth cup of tea in front of me, and I've just had lunch of very hot soup followed by a cheese kransky rolled in cheese and tomato pide. There are three cats spread throughout the house, fast asleep in curls of the duvet, or the rug on the couch. Carefully dispersed like an alcoholic stashes bottles, so that I can always find an ear to scratch or a paw to kiss. Still in my pyjamas at 3.30 in the afternoon I am facing the harsh reality of having to take off my bed socks so I can wash my hair before venturing out for dinner tonight.

It's like a little piece of heaven. I don't think anything could possibly make me much happier now. Unless you volunteered to come around and finish the thesis for me? That's OK, I knew it was a long shot anyhoo.

sometimes they make it so hard

2010-05-16T14:07:00.004+09:30

If you've read more this blog more than three times is means at least one of two things:

1. You've been reading this blog for about two years, because I think it's taken me two years to put up the last three posts.

2. You'll know that I'm a fan of Chris at A Free Man.

And Chris has written recently about a lack of blogging time. I'm with you there sister... brother, I mean brother!!!! Not only does my lack of blogging time mean that I don't have time to blog (obviously), but it largely also* means that my life is filled with things that make finding saucy little vignettes about which to blog difficult. In the last six months or so, my life has been filled with:

pointlessly stupid curriculum renewal projects
large conferences
work restructures
thesis procrastination
writing conference papers (for a different conference to the one in dot point two)
going on holiday

Obviously the last dot point, and even the one before were covered in my last post. I could write more about the holiday, I guess, but I'm notoriously crap at talking about my holidays, and hence the alternative blog full of pictures, to allow me to get out of talking to anyone about my holiday - I figure it's over and I need to move on and others don't really care they're just asking to be polite. Let's save both of us, I figure.

One piece of good news is that I will very, very shortly be a part time employee. Yes, one of the very few benefits of working in a tertiary institution is that they feel you not failing your thesis through lack of dedicated time is something they want to be involved in. So very soon Friday will be my research day (note: not my hanging out with friends, going shopping, or sitting in pubs drinking pints day. It is a research day). So hopefully this will make my life a little less stressful, and I will not only have time to blog, but will have time to do things to blog about (Sunday will now be my fun day. Or my sleep until noon day - which ever one takes my fancy on a week by week basis).

But for this post, I need to vent. Part of my job is supervision. This means approving leave, making sure that pays are run correctly, setting broad directions for the team I supervise, and telling them off when they've fucked up. If I did the last bit properly, it would basically be all I do. And as some of the other pressures at work have lessened off, I'm trying to be a better supervisor, so I got each member of my bedraggled team in and had an informal 'chat' with each of them.

One of the things about working where I do is that if I want to do a certain level of work - and I do - supervision is something that is very hard to avoid. And I don't like it, and I'm not very good at it. Why can't everyone just get on with it and do things properly so that I can concentrate on the bits of my job I like. Yes, despite what you may have gleaned from these ramblings, there are bits of my job that I do like.

On the whole these went better than I thought. I was able to tell people that I wasn't happy with their work in a nice, constructive way. Started each conversation with some good things, before I went to the bad (never sure which is the right way to do this, ie to start or finish with the bad). Even my bête noire took things well, and she was the one I had to tell off in no uncertain terms for stupid, stupid behaviour.

And then the email arrives (on her day off), saying things like 'I know what I did was wrong, but so-and-so is much worse', and 'I haven't complained about it before by Miss X does this, that and the next thing', and 'I have never liked Jo Bloggs'. etc.

sigh

sometimes people make things so hard.

Do you supervise this sort of behaviour? If so, I would love advice.

If you own a cross bow, I would love to borrow it.

On the upside, it's getting cold and frosty. This means one thing: polenta. Sometimes when the chips are down, a big bowl of creamy, cheesy cornmeal topped with roasted tomatoes and field mushrooms stuffed with garlic and butter can make everything better again.

*apologies for the split infinitive

konichiwa

2010-05-03T08:40:00.009+09:30

Greetings all from Kyoto, upon my return from the land of the rising sun. After three weeks away from the office I am now returned, in need of a shower and starving. Here's the synopsis.

Brisbane
Visited with my bro and the erstwhile Dr Wallis. Brisbane is hot. Real hot. And not just in a groovy way, sweat was the name of the game. Ate well (thanks Dr W), saw some funky stuff at the Museum of Queensland, the Art Gallery of Queensland and the Queensland Maritime Museum.

The lovely brother also drove me up to the Sunshine Coast so that we could visit Australia Zoo. I was sooooo excited. And later in the day I was sooooo disappointed. Expensive. Naff. An Irwin self promotion vehicle. Although I did see Bindi Irwin feeding a crocodile on stage. The whole audience was willing the animal to take her. Unfortunately we were disappointed. Again. I must admit the crocodile show was good, although brief (too much plugging of young Bindi's new straight to video movie).

The Elephant enclosure was also good. Other than that it was rather dull, very sticky and the food was horribly overpriced and near inedible - how somewhere that plugs itself as a conservation centre could serve such obviously battery reared, unhappy, chemical riddled chicken at its restaurant is beyond me. Bleaaagggh.

Townsville
Far North Queensland-ahoy! Even more sticky, but beautifully air conditioned! Went to a wonderful predators of the deep show at Reef HQ, the local aquarium, and enjoyed some great coffee. The conference was hit and miss. Some interesting sessions, some really boring sessions, some totally inspirational sessions. However on the whole it just seemed to be an excuse for people to catch up with people they flirted with at the last conference, not great professional networking going on, and frankly I'm too old and grumpy for it, so I was quite happy to leave the closing banquet early (the food was ho-hum, but I'm sure there is no way to make it otherwise when you're feeding that number of people, lunches were great tho). However on leaving the banquet I was unable to find my left contact lens.

Japan
... which meant on the flights to Japan my eye was red and angry and horribly weepy (probably from me sticking my finger in it ever ten seconds trying to find the lens. Which, by the way, never appeared).

Japan was.... strange. Extraordinarily quiet. Extraordinarily organised. And clean. And punctual. And totally utterly beautiful at every turn. But I got the feeling that not many of them are very good at making their own decisions.

I could have added pictures here, but I have created the 'blog with the worst name ever'. The best are here for friends and family. And you're my friend, so feel free to browse:

cherryblossomsunrise.blogspot.com

pictures executed

2010-04-18T10:15:00.002+09:30

I've had some questions regrading the pictures in the post below. They were for a paper I was presenting at a conference in Queensland. My memory stick is buggered and I needed to access the pictures at work, and this was a good way to get them there.

My session was yesterday, and I think the presentation went well and seem to be well received too. Now in Brisbane airport on the way to Japan. Many, many more pictures on my return, I suspect.

powerpoint

2010-04-08T20:12:00.003+09:30

2010-04-06T20:06:00.001+09:30

sad (two) state of affairs

2010-03-07T19:47:00.001+10:30

Going to a gig tonight. I used to go to gigs three or four nights a week. Then two nights a week. Then every Saturday. Then now and then. These days I barely gig at all.

I discovered just how little I gig on the realisation that if I wanted to last the evening in the mosh pit I was going to have to strap my ankle.

And I'm leaving a pair of glasses in the car, because I know I'll never last all night with the contacts in (glasses are contra-indicated to moshing).

Worse of all, as I'm leaving my glasses in the car, I guess that means I'm driving. No beer.

..... mercy, when did I turn into this person???

the secret of happiness

2010-02-26T19:45:00.003+10:30

It's been a long while since I last posted - again. It should come as no surprise to the well initiated that I am trying to write a research proposal tonight, so I return to this blog as an old, favourite form of procrastination.

It's been a busy six months for me. Fourteen months ago I started a new job. I know some readers have no doubt worked out where that job is, and even the quickest glance will tell you that I work in tertiary education. I may be able to narrow it down for those who know about Australian tertiary education by adding that it is the most administratively retarded, process and logic starved illustration of a doomed-to-fail business plan run by power hungry, agenda driven pedants.

If any of them were reading this, I'd probably be out on my ear. And I'm not sure that I'd care. I've typed up the resignation a couple of times in the last few months, and frankly - it's beyond me why I haven't handed it in. Well I know at least part of the reason, those in my immediate vicinity at work are not the power hungry, agenda driven pedants but very real, very nice people trying to do their best to offer students who can barely spell their own name some semblance of value for money in exchange for not inconsiderable financial outlay.

I like to think that I'm a pretty good worker. I don't always get everything done, and I make a few mistakes along the way, but on the whole I do my best, put in the extra hours when required and keep the team goals in mind. However recently I have felt the most rundown, beaten down, depleted and totally useless I have ever felt in my work. I have put students on the back burner in order to pander to the pedantic nitpicking of the power hungry agenda driven administration. I have forsake friends and family, added at least 10kg to my waist, let my study and professional development dwindle to nothingness and developed a drinking habit that would be the envy of most undergraduate engineering students (I calmly knocked off a full bottle of vodka the other night and it only just touched the sides).

Well, no more I say. I'm not playing your silly little games any more, large, uncaring institution. Fuck you. Fuck you, and fuck the horse you rode in on. I'm making a list at the beginning of the day, new stuff gets added to the bottom and at 5pm I walk out the fucking door. And I'm not taking it home with me (it should be noted that I do get paid a wage that could expect that I occasionally take work home with me. But not every night).

And next Tuesday I'm re-instituting Tourette's Tuesday. This is not to use legitimate, often debilitating, disorders as a social device. However staff members of our august institution are being invited to attend a well know hostelerie in the city where we will rant and rave and swear uncontrollably with regard to our place of employ, and maybe catch something at the Garden of Unearthly Delights, before scoffing pizza at an Adelaide favourite (the Beastie Boys eat here when they're in town. True Story).

liar liar

2010-01-28T22:08:00.003+10:30

Not so long ago I said that this was no longer a food blog. I'm obviously an outrageous liar, as I have all of these food posts to give you. Above is my offering for my Australian Day BBQ - it was bring a salad or bring a desert, and so I made a trio of Australian Deserts.

On the far left is a lamington cake. It's fairly straight forward, vanilla cupcake, chocolate ganache with coconut. I'm sure you can work this all out. Although it does make me wonder how coconut companies think I'm going to use a kilo of shaved coconut, as this seems to be the smallest quantity available in your average supermarket. I would suppose my dozen cakes used about 15gm, so if you're ever in need, please let me know.

I got the ganache recipe from Joy the Baker. Most people thing ganache a doddle. It's always failed horribly for me and been runny and useless, even after a spell in the freezer. Joy pours the hot cream over her chocolate, rather than melt them both in a double boiler, and for me this made all the difference.

Also thanks to Joy for the middle cake, my Cherry Ripe cake. Cherry Ripe is apparently the oldest chocolate bar still being produced in Australia. I made a red velvet cake, using Joy's recipe below, but pushed a glace cherry just below the surface of each cake before putting them in the oven. The icing is a sour cream chocolate icing. This was too runny. Next time it's ganache all the way

Joy's Favourite Red Velvet Cakes

60gm unsalted butter, at room temperature

3/4 cup sugar

1 egg

2 1/2 Tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder

3 Tablespoons red food coloring

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/2 cup buttermilk

1 cup plus 2 Tablespoons all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1 1/2 teaspoons distilled white vinegar

In the bowl of a stand mixer fit with a paddle attachment, cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy, about three minutes. Turn mixer to high and add the egg. Scrape down the bowl and beat until well incorporated.

In a separate bowl mix together cocoa, vanilla and red food coloring to make a thick paste. Add to the batter, mixing thoroughly until completely combined. You may need to stop the mixer to scrape the bottom of the bowl, making sure that all the batter gets color.

Turn mixer to low and slowly add half of the buttermilk. Add half of the flour and mix until combined. Scrape the bowl and repeat the process with the remaining milk and flour. Beat on high until smooth.

Turn mixer to low and add baking soda and white vinegar. Turn to high and beat a few more minutes.

Spoon batter into a paper lined cupcake baking pan and bake for 20-25 minutes or until a skewer inserted into the center cupcake comes out clean.

Let rest in the pan for 10 minutes, then place them of a cooling rack to cool completely before frosting.

On the far left are my Violet Crumble cakes. Honey cupcakes with the same average icing as the Cherry Ripe ones

Honey Cupcakes
120gm unsalted butter at room temp
3/4 cup caster sugar
1/3 cup honey
3/4 buttermilk
1tspn vanilla
1 egg
2 cups SRF

Preheat oven to 350F.

In a stand mixer using the paddle attachment, cream together the butter, sugar, and honey. Beat for about 3 minutes, until light and fluffy.

Beat in egg, scrape down sides after blended. Add in vanilla and beat for another 30 seconds. Starting with the flour first, alternate between flour and milk, ending with flour. So 1/3 of flour,
½ of milk, 1/3 of flour, ½ milk, 1/3 flour.

Blend until fully combined.

Bake for 20-22 minutes.

Both of these recipes worked divinely, probably largely because I followed the instructions and blended as long as I should have and didn't cut corners. The honey ones in particularly were incredibly light and fluffy, and I allowed the sugars and butter to beat well together. The honey gave it a much lighter texture than just sugar creamed in butter.

So, Advance Australia Fair. Let us all eat cake

kids kicking arse, and winning

2010-01-26T20:20:00.005+10:30

Let me start with some banality. It's Australia Day, the day that marks either the arrival of British settlers in Australia, or the day that marks the start of genocide, murder, rape and pillage. Depending on your point of view. Having just re-read last year's 26 January post, I am saddened to note that my fellow countrymen have not adopted my flag-phobia. I went to a BBQ today, hosted by a kind and lovely work colleague and the flags were everywhere. She is certainly no fascist, but it still worries me.

So, today I ate BBQ and a silly amount of dip and crisps and olives and things and now I feel quite unwell. You'd think after 39 years I would have learnt? Apparently not.

Back at home, tired and full and lazy I went into blog-o-sphere, and at Joy the Baker, whom I like incredibly for her style, her generosity of spirit and killer catering tendencies, I noted that Joy is nominated for a 2010 Bloggie. However I do not mention this to encourage you to vote for Joy - this is up to you - but because I checked out some of the other blogs up for a gong.

When We Were Beautiful is up in the music blog category, written by a young guy in Southampton, who like lots of young guys everywhere is into his tunes, and not necessarily the tunes that big record companies want him to be into. They want to him to be into Australian Idol winners, or the next boy band, because these are cheap eats, which require no sustainability, investment or thought. Those of you who have lived in the UK will know that which one of this quick bites ends up at the Number 1 spot on the charts on 25 December any year is a bit of a big deal and the pundits will debate who will occupy the 'top spot' from about mid November. Last year the latest X-factor winner was highly touted.

Until.

Some guy in Essex started an online campaign to get Rage Against the Machine's Killing in the Name Of to the top spot. And won!!!! More than a decade after it was released this catchy, funky, heavy protest song that shouts 'fuck you I won't do what you tell me' more times that most draft offices would care to count made it to the number one spot.

I must say, dear readers, this took me to my happy spot. You may have known this for some time and have been in your happy spot for so long that the floors need mopping, but this is very new for me. What a victory for us all, and how wonderful that someone thought to stand up against the corporations in such a very, very, very public way and won. There can't be a soul in Britain who doesn't know about this, what a fantastic way to bring the concepts of artistic integrity and mass consumption into every lounge room and work space. Not to mention the message of RATM's song in the first place, which unfortunately just as relevant today as when the track was first released.

This song is best listened to LOUD and somewhere where you can jump around and swing your hair about (if you have as much hair as me of course). Please enjoy this immensely!

PS: I was just called by the sound of a significant appeal to the lounge room to find that Pakistan have six out (and a ripper little clean bowl by Clinton McKay). Pakistan need 118 of 90 balls or there abouts. This could a heart racing fight. But I suspect it won't be. Again.

praise Jebus

2010-01-25T21:36:00.002+10:30

I think I may have found a miracle cure for my insomnia.

It's an old fashioned, traditional method. I'm not 100% sure of the pronunciation, as it's probably form ancient Aramaic or demotic Greek or something but in my best estimation, I believe it's called wine.

Nighty night.

the greatest curse of all aka what a loser

2010-01-23T23:49:00.006+10:30

I can't sleep. Not just now, not just tonight. All this week. Insomnia.

Sleep is my best friend, my best work, my secret love. OK, not that secret, I am famed for my ability to fall asleep anytime anywhere, and through anything. I am regularly known to lock the door of my office and take 45 minute cat naps in the middle of the day and still be in bed at my normal time. Which is 8.30 for god's sake. I have also been pretty sick, and went for a reasonable casual bike ride yesterday, so I should be nodding off no worries.

And yet here I am, at 12.08am on this fine Sunday wide, wide awake. I've had a lovely night with Vietnamese noodles, Chinese icecream, bad South Australian champagne, good coffee and almond liqueur, each at a different venue. I am well sated. I should be weary, dead on my feet.

But yet I am wide awake with Apollo the Wonder Cat gazing at my, wondering what the feck I'm doing at the computer at this time of the night. Am I preparing my ethics proposal? Am I finishing outstanding assignments? Am I tweeking course restructure?

No.

I am playing freecell. Hundreds, and hundreds of games of freecell. My secret shame, my addiction. I love it. Really really love it. I have no idea why people pay fortunes for x-boxes and the like when they have this on their PCs. For Free. I have even got it to such a perfection that if I don't have all of the cards from King to at least five or six lined up ready to drop down in a gorgeous waterfall of mathematical perfection, I go back to the beginning and start again.

What a loser!

two wheeled fabulous

2010-01-22T19:29:00.005+10:30

Today was the Mutual Community Breakaway Leg of the Tour Down Under. 'Mum and Dad'* cyclists got the chance to ride the same route as the professionals - while the professionals were still in bed.

Not wanting to be at the Norwood Shopping Centre at 4.30am I instead visited a chum with a summer house at Port Willunga. Instead of riding 145km through the Adelaide Hills we rode 40km through the McLaren Vale and stopped for lunch at the Currant Shed Restaurant at Hoffman's Wines. I had stuffed zucchini flowers for starters and a lamb backstrap thingy for main. But to start with we had a portion of turkey liver pate to share.

Oh
My
God

This was without a doubt one of the best things I have ever eaten in my life. Divine. I am too sweaty and tired and slightly sun burnt to write much more than that, but it was fabulous. If ever in Adelaide you must visit and you must have the pate. Ring first to make sure it's on the menu.

* I hate the phrase 'mum and dad'. 'mum and dad investors', 'mum and dad business people'. Just because you're neither a mum nor a dad doesn't make you some kind a freak. Yes, I'm talking to you, people at Today Tonight.

hello, are you fabulous?

2010-01-13T20:13:00.005+10:30

mmmmm...... so just how is the 2010 International Year of Fabulousness going? Were you fabulous today?

My acts of fabulousness:
1. got off my fat, lazy arse and pushed my bike up the hill to work for the first time in months
2. ate all my vegetables
3. refused to feel guilty for spending lots of time talking with my friends at work about important, but non-work-related stuff
4. purchased new reading material
5. bought someone else a coffee
6. enforced the 'a hyphen is not an n-rule' rule (this is very important to the future of fabulousness)
7. booked dinner for me and my great chum JC at a well known, but yet unexplored, eatery
8. remembered my dad's birthday (my father works hard to make us, and him, forget his birthday, so this is better than it sounds)

OK, this is a pretty pissy list, but it's not bad for a start (yesterday was excluded from fabulousness).

I have also come to the realisation that I am no longer a food blogger. I love food. I love to cook. But I only like to blog about it sometimes, and less and less all the time. I'd rather bore you with lists of fabulousness, and occasional political/social musings, and really just the boring crap that goes on in my life. Really, isn't that what blogging is all about, excuses for us all to think that the cyber world is actually interested in the insignificant minutiae of our lives. Do you care that I bought someone I only sometimes like a coffee. I suspect not, but it made me feel fabulous because I put her foibles aside and was fabulous. So, hurrah me.

God, I'm like those chicks who have weight loss 'journey' blogs aren't I.

Sorry sister, if you're on a journey you end up in a pub in Soho, or a temple on a mountain somewhere in China, not in size 8 jeans.

Fuck! I've become boring!!!!!* Go on, you can tell me the truth. Does my blog look big in this?

OK, in my journey to fabulousness I will attempt to limit the amount of times I mention the consumption of f'n'v - unless it's baked in a pie or covered in white sauce. I will not talk about my riding feats, unless it's to somewhere fabulous, like a temple on a mountain in China. I will not tell you all about my victories of design sensibilities, and will limit my descriptions of academic procrastination**

I will be fabulous in a quiet, unassuming manner.

And this is my promise to you.

*the boring in my name refers to the history, not the girl. Not that I think history is boring. It's just that everyone else I know does.

** this is a lie. I will always prattle on about my acts of academic procrastination. I don't care if you don't read it, but damn it, it makes me feel good.

the international year of fabulousness

2010-01-12T21:24:00.003+10:30

In the past 24 hours I have two very poignant encounters with work colleagues. Although very, very different people, both of them extraordinarily intelligent, giving, wonderful people.

Yesterday Dr Space Junk returned from family Christmas sojourns in the Eastern States and we sat by the beach and drank a few glasses and ate fried potato, before I drove her home where we drank a few more glasses before I abandoned my car in her driveway to get a cab home.

But don't let the glasses stand in the way of our conversation. We have declared that in 2010 we will both be fabulous - at work, at home, everywhere. We will simultaneous exercise and eat well while still living the high life. We will quaff expensive champagne and hang the expense, but still have our five serves of veggies. DSJ is determined to be organised (and she has the kikki-k organiser to prove it), and I have vowed that work take much more of a back seat in my life. By December you will not know us from the fabulousness.

Today we put another wonderful member of our university clan in the cold, cold ground. Less than four weeks after being diagnosed with a brain tumor he died last week. The number of bums on seats and the total absence of dry eyes a testimony to just how much this chap could get under your skin. So again, there are vows to not end up at 55 and looking down the barrel of death without taking every opportunity. No more taking work home. No more worrying about the small stuff - not that he did, his life was no doubt full of outstanding personal and professional achievement, and the wickedest sense of humour ever. I'm not sure who I will practice my shocking Chinese with now - his tones were even worse than mine if that is possible.

So, 在见老师 , and bring on the International Year of Fabulousness.

the best bit of holidays v's control freak

2009-12-30T16:51:00.005+10:30

As you can see from the fact that I'm posting I still haven't finished my conference paper. Not to worry, I have a full 48 hours before it needs to be submitted (working on the basis that time difference gives me a bit of leeway and that the folks accepting my paper in America have better things to do at midnight 31 December than to check whether I've emailed it in).

So instead I'm planning the trip. The conference is being held in Townsville, after which I'm flying to Japan for a week. This has allowed me to indulge in one of life's greatest pleasures - the holiday planning frenzy. I've compared prices of about a million hotels in Townsville. Decided against staying in the nominated conference hotel (bad online reviews, silly prices) and chose another major hotel chain just across the road.

I hate staying in hotels. Really really hate staying in hotels. Travel would be perfect if I could just teleport myself home every evening to drift off into slumber in my own bed, with the cats at my feat. And on my face. And pinning my arms down. And pushing pressure on my bladder. Only to wake the next morning and teleport myself back to my international local. However I do love hotel buffet breakfasts. Little bits and pieces of things I would never normally eat. Not that they're necessarily very nice, and mercy not very good for me. But I love the novelty of it, particularly in Asia. And particularly in Singapore, where you have roti with curry sauce and congee sitting next to the croissant.

So I'm hoping this hotel will have something spectacular for me to choose from at breakfast. At least once, I'm happy to go the take away coffee and muffin on the other days.

Unfortunately my hotel in Japan has already been booked, so I don't have the pleasure of reading reviews, and putting prices in Yen into a converter and tossing up whether the up-market shower fixture is worth the extra twenty bucks a night. However I have spent hours, literally hours, working out individual train prices versus a variety of Japan Rail passes, worked out where you get the ferry to the island of Hiroshima, worked out how to get to Kyoto from Osaka airport. I've even downloaded guides. Yes the clever people at Lonely Planet will now let you download PDFs of individual chapters of their guide books. So if, like me, you've purchased the Kyoto guidebook, but want to go to Hiroshima, which is not included, you just pop online for for about $5 can get the Honshu chapter from Lonely Planet Japan. With all of the maps, and train timetables, local vocabulary and recommended eateries.

oooooo..... overload....... pleasure overload.......

Not that I live and breath the books. In the words of Eleanor Lavish 'I abhor Baedeker. If it were up to me every copy should be flung in the Arno'. I don't always use them, but damn I like reading them. Both before and after.

Before it builds the anticipation - you start to imagine what the cities will look like, how they will smell, how the people look, move and sound. You think about what you might be eating, what the climate will be like, all the wonderful places you might go, and all of the possible discoveries of still mysterious places you will uncover. On the return home you get to read about all the places you planed to go to, find that that mysterious place isn't that mysterious, it was on page 162 all the time, or maybe it's not and you actually did discover something amazing.

I'm also starting to get into the language. I'm a step ahead in that the Japanese use a lot of Chinese characters, so even though they're not pronounced the same I might be able to work out what some of the text is saying. So while I couldn't look at the characters 京都 and work out it's pronounced Koyto (I'd say JingDou) I know it means Double Capital (as in capital city, Beijing is the the Northern Capital, Nanjing the Southern Capital).

Sorry, I got all language freak and boring there for a moment. So if you'll excuse me, I'm off to practice my Japanese, and eat left over ham and aoili sandwiches.

Bon voyage!

christmas post

2009-12-28T15:19:00.003+10:30

tee hee. This picture was just too moi not to steal it from some other poor, unsuspecting blogger's site.

Well, I had quite a list of things to get through last time I posted. How's all that going, I wonder?

1. Run a highly underfunded international conference
I am pleased to be able to report that I lived through this conference. Only one complaint. Mind you this was screaming-abuse-at-me-at-the-registration-desk complaint, but from someone largely considered in the industry to be insane. There were a few hiccups with the catering, and the bar lost a bucket of money, but Dr Space Junk and I managed to make it through alive. Then we both slept. I mean really, really slept. I'm still sleeping as I write this, actually. I am hoping for a minimum of 12 hours a night until I get back to work.

2. Finish the fucking course review process that has destroyed the last three months of my life
This is somewhat connected with old Father Darth up the top. Unfortunately this still lingers on. And it really has destroyed the last three months of my life. This is the reason that I am so tired, and so despondent, and so totally utterly physically, emotionally and mentally rooted. I took this job 12 months ago to try and reduce the stress in my life. It has done anything but. It's a good thing that the people are great and my academic supervisor is just down the corridor, or I'd be outta there.

3. Cook Christmas dinner for 30 workmates
Survived this too. Exhausted and plastered (it only took about three drinks). I will be eating the left overs until Easter.

4. Write a conference paper
I should be doing this now, but am writing this post as a form of procrastination

5. Have Christmas
Christmas has turned me into an eating machine - pate, dip and dukkha, grilled lemon quail, roast beef with aioli and potatoes, cheese course, ice cream, pavlova and cake. All washed down with gallons of booze. I think it's stretch my stomach, because I've been perpetually starving since. I'm waiting until 4pm before starting to prepare dinner....

6. Drink far too much Frangenlico with my choice-bro who will be down for Christmas
Too much eating for Frangelico. But he's here until Saturday!

7. See if I can find someone who wants to go to the ODIs with me.
Some possible action on this front. I am helping my conference paper procrastination along with lots of watching the Boxing Day test with eating ham sandwiches and cherries. I'll start on the voddie tonics in about an hour.

Merry Christmas to you and all your nerf herders.

I'm off to see the pandas tomorrow!

hellllloooo overthere.....

2009-12-07T21:29:00.003+10:30

Yes. A while. A very long while.

Still can't upload photos. If I could you would have:

the cutest possible shot of Apollo asleep on my bed yesterday
Dr Brown banging his drum in the Christmas Pageant
other stuff that I've probably forgotten about

In the next week or so I need to

run a highly underfunded international conference (three days to go. OMG!)
have finished the fucking course review process that has destroyed the last three months of my life
cook Christmas dinner for 30 workmates
write a conference paper
have Christmas
drink far too much Frangenlico with my choice-bro who will be down for Christmas
see if I can find someone who wants to go to the ODIs with me.

Preference Australia v's Pakistan if anyone's interested.

fuck me, it's hot

2009-11-09T07:57:00.004+10:30

This is from my little weather widget thing, from 7.30am.
Neither my good self nor my black cat look as jolly as this couple

why I had a good day and great things about Adelaide

2009-11-06T21:15:00.006+10:30

Today I worked from home. ooooooooo.... it was divine. I still got up at the same time, and made my tea and gave the cats their food and injection.

But!

I didn't get tom, the deadly treadly, out. Nor did I snort and snarl my way to campus cursing the day my fellow motorists were born. No. Instead I walked to the kitchen table and turned on the laptop. I was working at home, and I was loving it. Still in my pyjamas I'd done a couple of hours work by the time I was normally heading in the door. And I'd got more done than I normally did in a day by then.

However by around 11am the stomach was starting to make itself known, so as I didn't have to justify my whereabouts to anyone, or write 'gone for lunch, back in 10' on my office door, I went into town to do my food shopping.

When I was younger, I hated living in Adelaide. It was small. It was quiet. The good bands never toured. Now I'm older, and have lived the high life in some of Europe's most famous capital cities - I still think Adelaide's boring but I'm old enough not to care. I don't have the energy to go out anymore and young persons music bores me to tears, so it's just as easy to stay at home in Adelaide as it is Melbourne or New York.

But no matter what my age, there's always been one thing about Adelaide that has made the place worthwhile - the Adelaide Central Markets. They're one of the largest covered markets in Australia, or the Southern Hemisphere, or the World, or the Universe or something. I'm not sure and as a tourism person I should know. Don't try to over analyse it, they're just great.

And they're where I come from.

At least they could be, as they're the first thing I remember. Truly, it's the ONLY thing I remember from being young. I remember going there and my brother being in an indigo blue canvas backpack thing, that were de rigeur in the 70s, on my father's back. So he must have been about one, so I must have been about three. I really don't remember anything before that.

Of course there was food involved (is it any wonder I've become a fat foodie). I'd eat kabanas at Con's chacuterie, doughnuts at the bakery, and at Lucia's I'd eat kitkat. Lucia and her husband Pasquale opened Lucia's Pizzeria sometime in the Pleistocene era, and were the first in Adelaide to serve up pizza. Back then it was a tiny, two table place and I clearly remember sitting on Pasquale's knee as he served me pieces of chocolate. Mother and Father having been in Europe not long before my birth were no doubt slugging back the short short Italian coffee.

I remember many birthdays there, Saturday morning outings with Miss Quinn the slightly mad old cat lady from next door (I aspire to Miss Quinn) and later lazy student days eating pizza and buying cheap veggies at closing time.

These days it's still one of my favourite places on earth (I even dated one of the staff very briefly - and very disastrously). The coffee's wonderful and if you order right the breakfasts are close to heaven. I highly recommend the baked beans on continental toast. I have breakfast there every week with Opera Boy and we always sit at the same table and laugh and snort until we run away to our respective places of torture a little happier than on other days.

And it's still a place of habit for me. Same fruit and vegetable shop
Same baker, some butcher. There's a lot more Asian food available than when I was little. Then it was all Italian and Greek and not nearly as fashionable as it is now. But the sights and smells and noise and range of delicious things is always amazing and you always see something new and come away with something you didn't plan, unless you're very very good.

Today I came away with fried pork dumplings for my lunch. They were a little cold by the time I got them home (and changed back into my pyjamas), but still a very delicious thing to do on a busy day working at home.

So really, I worked a long day, 10 hours, got about 12 hours of work done but still managed to have a blissful day with the cats by my side, a long trip to the markets, a coffee at Lucias and dumplings for lunch.

I really, really need a job where I work from home.

insert pavemet here

2009-11-03T20:47:00.002+10:30

Nervous Breakdown Averted.

Nothing to see here.

Move along.

Go about your regular business.

OK: So the days are still long, and the work still overwhelming. However:

1. took no home work with me last weekend and did no study - it was divine
2. all industry presentations over, successfully
3. have purchased food that is not pizza or take away Indian
4. beer
5. i've had an incredible amount of sleep
6. just generally decided to not be such a big fat girl and just get on with it, damn it!

Also my new hot water system that wasn't working had decided to kick in (just in time for summer), my house guest is gone leaving my evenings blissfully kittenesque and I've actually done some social stuff (it's been a while. Work can just take over some times).

Additionally I've asked for an extension for my final assignment (there have to be perks to working where you're a student), and the student whose thesis I've been proofing has been told the cold, hard truth that there's no way she's going to be able to graduate this December - by proofing I mean adding or removing articles, not proper editing which is what I've told her from the beginning she needed.

Not only that, but I've received some more excitement in the post. I still can't upload photos, but if you take this post - and supplement 'pavement', you 'll get the idea

ever feel like an idiot?

2009-10-26T19:12:00.000+10:30

Tears. Everywhere - tears. I'm a fairly standard neo-feminist. I hate crying. A lot. But it's all I've been doing lately. I cried at my mothers. I cried at my fathers. I cried in front of no less than four colleagues today.

I fear there's some stress in my life. A straw too many was placed upon my camels back. I could give you photos, but my fucking computer's still not got functioning ports.

Life sucks sometimes.

R2D2 update

2009-10-20T19:25:00.001+10:30

I am having beer for dinner. Again.

some days you just can't catch a break - or - there's no point crying over spilt beer

2009-10-17T18:05:00.007+10:30

It's been a while since I wrote a post that was more than copying a recipe of someone else's site.

'Oh, has it?', you all say... 'hadn't noticed frankly'. Well yes, it has been a jolly long while.

There are several reasons for this:

1. Work has been crazy busy. Work is always crazy busy, I know. For us all, I know! But trust me when I say mine is extra crazy busy at the moment, summed up mostly by this shiny little droidy friend:
I know for most of you this will be meaningless, but for those in the know it's rather cute and funny, so please allow me this little in-joke.

Also, almost all of the positions for staff who work under me are soon to be vacant due to impending motherhood, pure selfishness and the joy of retirement (obviously not all in the same person).

2. Study has been equally busy, connected with that is a number '3'.

But first, let me tell you a story.

It all started a week ago today.

Well, actually it started on a warm August afternoon in AD79, when a little mountain call Vesuvius opened up the bowls of its molten body and started the eruption that would end the lives three cities, Pompeii, Stabiae and Herculaneum, as well as the lives of many of their residents.

Going on two thousand years later some of the remains of these towns are on display in an exhibition 'A Day in Pompeii' at the Melbourne Museum. As a great lover of all things Classical I was all a-quiver about this development and immediately chose a weekend in October and booked flights for a day trip to Melbourne. That day was 10 October, last Saturday.

In the past when I've done these trips I've tried to get on the first possible flight out of town so I can have as much time as possible at my destination. The older I get the stupider this is, as by 3pm I'm dead on my feet. So this time I get a sensible flight time. Bus to the airport works a charm - only 5 minutes to transfer in the city. Row to myself - fabbo. Quick connection to the shuttle in Melbourne and I'm on my way. Walk down Spencer Street to Flinders Street and only just miss a circle tram.

Unfortunately I'm waiting nearly 30 minutes for the next, and I'm starting to think it would have been quicker if I had walked. When it does come, it's packed, but I'm happy to stand. At Russel Street the driver announces that because there's a rally at Parliament he's stopping here. That's OK, I respect the right to protest. Out I hop.

Now, Melbourne has a reputation for gray, wintry weather. However on this particular day the sun was hot and harsh and I was not dressed appropriately for this, mmmmmm.... starting to get a bit sticky. OK, not much further now. At Parliament I see the protesters, not many of them but they're blocking the whole street. As I push my way through I realise that they're trying to tell me that they know what I want with my body better than I do and that my choices should be removed by an act of legislation.

Blood pressure rises.

Keep going, BHG, keep going. Don't punch them and spend the day in the lock up.

Finally at Melbourne Museum. And it is HEAVING. Entry is timed, and despite the fact that it's only 1.30pm the earliest I can gain entry is 3pm. Bugger. I have to be back at the airport at 5.30, but that's OK, maybe I'll just have to pay for a cab. I get my ticket and decide to peruse the rest of this fine institution's collections.

But first a bit to eat, just need to get past this queue. Oh, hang on, this queue if for the restaurant. Not really moving either is it. Sod, that, I'll just pop out and find a cafe.

Yes, well, the Melbourne Museum is not really geographically located in a sensible place for weekend bites to eat. I'm setting up a hotdog stand out the front I think. By the time I've walked all the way to Swanson Street, only to end up with a bag of crisps from the 7/11, find an ATM to get money for the inevitable taxi fare and leg it back to the Museum it's nearly 2.15, and I figure I should go and stand in line so I'm the first of the 3pm'ers to get in.

There are actually some good displays in the entry hall, and I watch a couple of videos. What I would like is a catalogue so I can have a browse before. Of course it's only available from the exhibition shop, which is at the end of the exhibition and inaccessible to the rest of the world.

sigh

At 2.40 I decide to give the door bitch a sob story about flight schedules to see if I can slip in early, to be told that it would be bedlam if we all got in at 3 and I should feel free to go in now.

Go in where? It seems like all of Melbourne is in the exhibition. It's shoulder to shoulder jostling for every glimpse. They're all pieces I've seen before, and the interpretation is simplistic at best. I know not everyone there has an Honours degree in Classical Studies and a Grad Dip in Archaeology (they're too smart to have done that), but really, they could give those of us with an interest something to read.

After 15 minutes I can stand it no longer, and leave annoyed, frustrated, on the verge of tears. And the catalogue's crap and totally overpriced.

At least I could use my return shuttle ticket back to the airport. Where I had the worst sandwich of my life (half went in the bin) to be on a cramped flight where the woman next to me spilt her drink on me. At the end of it all I stopped at the pub near my bus stop to get some beer to drown my sorrows.

Half way home the holder broke, they fell on the ground and smashed.

Now truly this is a sad story, but how is this connected to my study and point number '3'? Well, I was going to take a photo of my ticket receipt as an illustration to go with my story of how I paid nearly $300 to spend 15 minutes in the Pompeii exhibition.

But unfortunately for some reason my computer has decided not to read memory sticks. So I can't upload photos.

I also can't access all of my study documents that are on my flash drive, meaning I'm wasting time and will have to go into the office tomorrow to access my presentation that I'm giving to a crowded audience of Barossa Tourism operators on Wednesday.

There is more things to be upset about. I have a searing hangover (remember, the last bottle is always a mistake), one of my favourite bloggers in hiatus meaning my almost daily relaxation read has been removed, and there's no food in the house.

Good news on the horizon? I have discovered a few new blogs that may help to fill the void (but never the whole thing AFM!) and I'm looking a burgers online. I love burgers - provided there are no yellow arches involved of course.

And I have an exciting new project to work on. I'm not actually allowed to tell you, or anyone, what it is, but it it involves this fuzzy, purple fellow

daring cooks, pho

2009-10-14T19:12:00.004+10:30

Long time, no post. And it's another noodle recipe.

This month's Daring Cooks challenge is bought to you by Jaden of the Steamy Kitchen. Jaden rightly points out that we're not cooking fhow. These delicious spicy and sour noodles are pronounced fuhr? Like you're asking a question. Or fourth tone for those with a sinophone background (I think Vietnamese has more tones than Chinese. This is why I will never, ever learn to speak Vietnamese. Or Cantonese. My understanding is that Cantonese has about a billion tones, and that is one or two more than I care to master). But sorry, I 'm distracting from the noodles!

For Pho, you'll need
2 tbspn whole coriander seeds
2 whole cloves
2 whole star anise
2 litres chicken stock (As clean as you can make it. Don't buy it. That's cheating)
1 whole chicken breast
1/2 onion
1 5cm piece of ginger, bruised
1 tblspn sugar
2 tblspn fish sauce

...and some pho noodles. Also called Hor Fun in Chinese. You can buy these already sliced or buy them in a slab and slice them yourself.

For toppings you'll need
bean sprouts
lime (quartered)
fresh coriander
sliced red chili
Vietnamese basil
half a finely sliced red onion

Then you:
Heat a dry fry pan and roast the dry spices until just toasty
Add these to a sauce pan with the rest of the ingredients (I leave the sugar fish sauce until the end to test for seasoning)
simmer for about 20 minutes, or until the chicken is cooked. Skim the liquid regularly to remove any of the scum that forms
remove the chicken, and add fish sauce and sugar to taste
shred or slice the chicken breast

Meanwhile cook the noodles.

Place the noodles in your bowl and strain the broth through a sieve to cover. Arrange the chicken meat on top, add a few drops of chili sauce, and serve with the toppings on a separate plate for everyone to add as they please.

I must say, I've cooked pho before, and eaten it plenty, but this is one of the best recipes I've ever tried anywhere (including Hanoi).

You gotta give it a go!!!

滑牛肉面

2009-09-27T13:45:00.003+09:30

Having taken Friday off of work to.... study..... I ended up doing my market shopping, and going out for lunch, afternoon tea and dinner. But yesterday to everyone's surprise, including mine, I sat down and have almost completed my presentation for Barossa Tourism (The TG and I will have to go up in a couple of weekends and take some extra photos, but I figure he'll feel at home!)

At the markets I had bought the ingredients for this months' Daring Cooks recipe - give or take two key ingredients, so my Saturday night dinner plans were washed away. However I did have a packet of sheet noodles.

So I decided to reward myself for finally doing the damn presentation by cooking myself my famous HuaNiuRouMian (滑牛肉面), or Slippery Beef Noodles. I call them this because there's beef in it and they're slippery.

In a hot wok cook about 3 tablespoons of peanut oil for a couple of minutes and allow to cool. Once cool mix half of this with a teaspoon of corn flour, a teaspoon of soy sauce and a splash of water. Marinate about 200g of beef strips in this for at least half an hour.
Cut strips of noodles off the sheet - nice thick noodles. Cover in a bowl with boiling water, pulling the noodles apart with chopsticks. They will only take a couple of minutes to cook. Drain them and set aside.
Heat the left over oil in the wok again and fry off half a small, diced onion, garlic, ginger and half a teaspoon of hot pepper sauce. When this is coloured, add the beef with all of the marinade and cook until almost done through.
Then add a couple of bunches of Chinese spinach. This is often grown hydroponically so needs a good wash to get rid of any sand. I sometimes don't do this properly and the whole dish ends up a bit crunchy. Once the spinach is wilted remove everything from the wok.
Pop the noodles into the wok and season them with a mixture of half a teaspoon of sugar, a teaspoon of light soy and a teaspoon and a half of dark thick soy. Add a small splash of fish sauce for seasoning.
Return the beef and vegetables and heat through
Consume immediately!

happiness is

2009-09-22T17:17:00.002+09:30

coming home and finding exciting things in the postbox

procrastination post 2,958

2009-09-20T10:24:00.005+09:30

Recently I expressed dismay at the horrible state of my home. Also, I'm working on a large, boring research project for my Masters studies and finally the Teutonic God that was supposed to move into chez-BHG months ago is actually rocking up in a fortnight's time (Teutonic Gods have very strict attitudes to cleanliness. And everything else it should be noted).

So in an attempt to not do the boring research project I have not only be rearranging my stamp collection -yes, you read correctly I'm so un-keen to do this I've been moving stamps about in albums - but have also cleaned the fridge. So TG can eat in safety.

Fridge Door, Before and After

Fridge, before and after.

And the Recycling elves are happy too.

daring cooks do dosa

2009-09-14T18:43:00.006+09:30

Finally I have been able to take part in a Daring Cook's challenge - too much fish in recent months. Yukky.

This month's hostess, Debyi from The Healthy Vegan Kitchen talked us through Dosa. Debyi did hers with a chickpea filling and a very good looking coconut sauce on top.

Being different.... OK being disorganised, I did mine a little different, but more Marsala Dosa with a curried potato filling. If you'd like to see Debyi's version there's a recipe on her site. This is mine.

Saag-Aloo (without the Saag).
Peel and dice two smallish potatoes and boil until soft. Drain and set aside.

Heat some vegetable oil in a fry pan until seriously hot, but not smoking and toss in a half teaspoon of black mustard seeds. When they start to pop add a half a teaspoon each of cumin seeds and chili flakes along with two cloves of finely chopped garlic. Cook for a minute and then add half a small chopped onion. Add a teaspoon of cumin powder and half a teaspoon of turmeric and fry to cook the spices. If you're adding Saag, you'd do it now. But I was not so I did not! Add the potatoes and a tablespoon of tomato paste. Add some water or stock if needed to bring everything together. I also put in some coriander leaves.

OK, this is your filling.

To make the dosa mix together 1 cup plain flour, pinch salt, half a teaspoon of baking powder, a generous pinch of cumin, and then stir in 1/2 milk milk mixed with 3/4 cup of water to make a thin batter.

Ladle this batter into a hot oiled pan to make the dosa. Keep 'em thin. Unfortunately mine were much too like pancakes. Misshaped pancakes as you can see.

They still were delicious. Just not dosa. Next time I will try a different batter and make proper Sambal to go with them.

Or I will just go to my favourite dosa man, just near Sansag Marg in New Delhi. Now, this guy knows how to make dosa!!!

UPDATE: Bollocks. Now I want dosa.

why it's good i'm not a breeder

2009-09-13T17:02:00.003+09:30

I'm not sure if this is accurate, but it seems once most people have passed on their genes, they become cleaner. All of a sudden dishes are done and carpets hoovered and things put away. Sharp corners are minimised and batteries are no longer left sitting on the coffee table once they've been changed in the remote.

This afternoon I contemplated my fridge.

Actually I was looking for the tomato paste for this month's Daring Cooks challenge (posts tomorrow). What I did find was an old tin of cat food with interesting growths, the bones from a leg of lamb I did about two weekends ago and half a cabbage that must have been there for at least two months. How the fuck to you loose half a cabbage in a standard fridge. It was a big one too. Then there's the lentil soup that's about to turn, stewed rhubarb, although that's going in me tonight, and assorted bags with half bunches of spring onions.

The door shelves are more of a mystery.

Many jars here of dubious origin and date, although this one has obviously been there a while. It would also appear that I've transported it here from the house I was in previously. Note cat hair stuck to the lid.

There are also jars of home made jam - whose home I'm not sure - salad cream (I don't even eat salad cream), tahini, pad thai sauce, vitamins I don't remember buying etc etc. I'm sure this would give most toddlers instant listeria.

Then there are the dust bunnies around the speakers in my bed room I've been ignoring for the last couple of weeks.

Maybe it's time to get with the season and do some spring cleaning.

dog people may not understand

2009-09-10T20:29:00.003+09:30

what did you do today?

2009-09-07T19:28:00.002+09:30

5.30 - alarm goes off
5.31-6.45 - feed cats, shower, dress, pack lunch and work clothes, drink tea
6.46 - realise back tyre on bike is flat. again. shit
6.47 - get in car and drive to work
7.00-5.00 - do mindless job (read: sit in meetings all day where no one decides anything)
5.01 - leave work
5.02 - realise left lights on this morning and car battery is flat
5.50 - thank nice RAA man and drive home like mad woman because I know if I stop at traffic lights the car will stall and I'll never get it started again.
6.05 - eat toast

I was going to take a picture of the glass of wine I'm drinking to go with this post, but the battery in both my point and shoot and SLR are flat and despite 30 minutes of hunting I have absolutely no idea where I put the chargers.

Fuck.

more comfort cooking

2009-09-05T20:27:00.003+09:30

My Barossa Tourism Region presentation has been rescheduled. That gives me another four full weeks of procrastinations. Today's method? Indian bread.

Aloo Parantha
Filling
1 small potato, mashed
three slices of onion, then finely diced
half bunch coriander, finely chopped
1 red chili, finely chopped

Dough
Put about this much plain flour out on a bench (note my canny placement of standard objects in the background to give perspective. Old archaeologists trick).

In this well add about two tablespoons of the yogurt and a generous splash of milk and pinch of salt. Then add enough water to make a firm dough, after kneading for about 3 minutes.

Make the filling..... well.... by mixing all the filling ingredients together.

This amount of flour makes about three parantha, so divide the dough into three bits.

Push each bit out with the ball of your hand to make a small circle. Place a large pinch of filling in the middle, and fold over the dough to enclose the filling. Then roll out on a floured bench. Some of the filling will break through, this is normal so don't worry.

Then heat a heavy based fry pan and fry the bread on both sides in butter or ghee.

My suggestion is to serve with the absolutely fantastic dahl they serve at raj on taj. Exquisite food, shocking service.

Next on the menu? I have roast veg in the oven. Then rhubarb and apple crumble.

back to basics

2009-08-29T20:51:00.005+09:30

Take a really cold day, add a few bottles of wine too many the night before, and inevitably a young woman's thoughts turn to only one thing.

Stodge.

Yes, I'm going back to my ancestral roots and have eaten little else than simple carbohydrates and meat today.

Waking up early to see to the cats' medicinal needs I popped off to do some food shopping. Unfortunately my thoughts were slightly less than clear and I managed to come home with lots of food, but precious little to eat.

But I had bought liverwurst. mmmmmm.... beautiful, smooth Latvian liverwurst. So after a very strong cup of tea and several pieces of toast and liverwurst I popped off for a late morning snooze (of about four hours).

On waking, and downing several large glasses of lime and ginger cordial I decided on my winter favourite for dinner - toad in the hole

Toad in the Hole
Heat oven to 220 degrees Celsius and put two large knobs of butter or lard in a baking dish to melt.

Whisk together 125g plain flour, 2 eggs, 150ml cold water, 150ml milk and 2tspn grain mustard and let to rest for 15 minutes.

Once the fat in the pan is smoking, place 4-6 pork sausages in the dish and pour in the batter. Bake for approx 35 minutes or until the batter is golden and cooked in the centre.

Only one thing can make toad in the hole better, and that's onion gravy.

Thinly slice a brown onion and fry in butter and oil until the onion starts to soften. Cover the fry pan for 8-10 minutes until the onions are completely soft. Add a tablespoon of plain flour and stir to cook for a few minutes. Then add red wine, stock, Worcestershire sauce and salt and pepper to flavour and cook, stirring occasionally until thick and wonderful.

You could cook some green veg to go with this, but on day-afters it sort of defeats the purpose!

sunday evening cat porn

2009-08-16T20:10:00.002+09:30

Antonius Pius - Hail Caesar - looking cute on a Sunday night

Thurston the Wonder Cat - looking cute on a Sunday night

Apollo - looking cute on a Sunday night

warning warning

2009-08-10T21:07:00.003+09:30

I feel a gigantic cook off in me bones.

I've a hankerin' for char sui drumsticks and fried rice and kangaroo in black bean sauce. For lasagna and polpette and gnocchi amatricciana. For mascapone with caramelised figs and chocolate sauce. For pasticio and domades yemista. For jiaozi with black vinegar and chili jam. For toad in the hole with onion and Marsala gravy. And all sorts of to-doin's.

Home delivery available.

questions, concerns and uncharacteristic sundays

2009-08-09T19:50:00.004+09:30

1. Question.
Why is everything so bloody hard. Not here, not in my real life, but at work. Why is everything so bloody hard? Why are people so difficult, or stupid, or difficult and stupid and why are systems and procedures so horribly out of date and un-workable? And why do I give a shit? Why should I be worried that the junior staff and done absolutely none of the key, fucking essential things they should have done over the mid-semester break? Why is it now my job to fix it? And why have I spent my weekend doing work that we could train a monkey to do? A monkey would fit in better than the junior staff and be far, far less skanky in the process.

2. Concerns
As you may have guessed I've had a shocking work at week. Underlings being useless have added a burden to my already stressful week. And I've had two co-workers (not the idiots of the pack, the good ones) in my office in tears. Because we're all working so fucking hard because we can't rely on anyone else. It's a concern. One of them is packing her bags and moving to Queensland. The other, I suspect, like me had wine for dinner two nights this week. It's a concern. I'm trying to cut down on sugary foods in the evening. I think wine is about as sugary as you can get. It's a concern.

3. Uncharacteristic Sunday
Actually in many ways this Sunday has been totally in character in that I've procrastinated my way out of doing any research yet again. It was raining and I didn't have any clean stockings and ooohh.. let's have a cup of tea and think about it.

However, the attempts I would go to to get out of my research were uncharacteristic.

I gardened.

Now, I'd love to have a good looking garden. Lots of lovely flowers and fruits and a veggie patch down the back. But over the years I've realised this is work. And work I don't much care for to boot.

So a while back I rang the good fellows at my local gardening people place and got them to come and cut my 'lawn' (read: large patch of weeds and both front and back of house) and clean my gutters. That just left the 'garden beds' (read: large patches of weeds spread systematically around the place). When the good fellows at my local gardening people place left after their last visit they left a note saying 'will come back and poison weeds in garden beds'.

I don't like the idea of poison around the places where at some point in time and in an alternative universe I might plant vegetables, or mores the point somewhere where my cats might get a mouthful of them.

I have been vaguely successful in that I've managed to keep two rosemary bushes alive. I've killed geraniums and mint on a regular basis, which I've been told is impressive, so these rosemary bushes are my pride and joy. In the same bed are some soon to flower daffodils - left over from my grandmother. Nothing to do with me. As you can tell, in so much as they're still alive.

So this afternoon I weeded this patch, along the side of the garage, to within an inch of its life.

I then took all of the leaf litter that I had been using as mulch, but which the good fellows at my local gardening people place for some reason swept up and put in the green waste bin so that they could come back and lay mulch that they are going to make me pay for, and took it out of the green waste bin and used it to mulch around the plants.

Yes, weeded and mulched. All in one day.

If you can hear a 'thud' it's my mother falling off her chair as she reads this.

It's a bit late in the day, so it's a little dark, but here's how it looks now.

midnight shenanigans

2009-08-01T10:22:00.005+09:30

After a quick trip to the Seacliff Hotel last night to farewell a young lass from the office who's off to find fame and fortune in Darwin, I headed home, ears aching, throat aching, brain aching.

I managed to stay conscious until about 8.30, which is pretty good really before I fell into slumber. Around 1.15 I woke to the sound of a mighty gale, rain pounding down. However the gale and the rain was not outside. It was in my toilet. I rearranged cats and struggled out from underneath my winter layers of quilts and blankets to find a geyser in the loo. Honestly, I was still half asleep and it took a while to work out just what was happening and where it was happening. I was instantly aware that the hall represented the Tiber in full flood (soggy socks), but the actual cause of the inundation took me a while to locate. Actually I had to pad around outside in the afore mentioned soggy socks and a torch to turn the water off at the mains before I had any idea what was going on.

On my return in doors, I discovered this

The bracket that takes the pipe from the mains to the cistern has completely rotted away. I spent the next 90 minutes mopping and soaking up water, moving the books that were my reading material au commode and drying them in the kitchen, saving art work waiting to be hung that was propped up in the hall and generally mopping up.

This morning the damage seems minimal, although young Tony (hail Caesar) is obviously bemused by the proliferation of towels in the hall.

I did make a quick trip to the GP and am now dosed up on penicillin and have cancelled all my, sometime important, Saturday plans to sit at home and wait for the emergency plumber. I've bought a carton of spring water for drinking and teeth brushing, but showering is out (hurrah). So is washing the dishes (not fun, but essential) and the flushing of the toilet (so the garden is now the venue and nature at my demand). Hopefully the plumber can plug the hole when he arrives and I can get some laundry on and do the dishes. Luckily my poor healthy has limited my interest in food, so there's not much to wash. But a general indicator of my diet is how many empty tins of cat food I have. Currently I have 7 (which is about four days in my house). But only one bread and butter plate and a Tupperware container that used to contain lentils.

mmmmmmmmmm.....maybe some vegetable soup or something is on the cards for today.

woe is me

2009-07-30T19:30:00.004+09:30

I don't know about you, but when I'm sick, really sick, IV drip type sick, I consider myself fine. Don't know what the fuss is. Of course I'm fine to go to work.

But my tonsils are another matter. When I was younger, in my 20s, I got tonsillitis regularly. Three or four times a year up they would come. I would know it was coming because I'd get a certain taste in my mouth. The taste of infinite death and suffering.

This time it's snuck up on me. Bigger than they've ever been before, touch me under the jaw line and scream in agony. My ears are blocked and aching. I'm miserable god damn it.

I spent some time trying to take a picture, so you could see how big and pussy my tonsils are, but lucky for you it didn't work. So here's a picture of Thurston The Wonder Cat instead.

Enjoy

brain...... oozing... out... ears

2009-07-21T21:46:00.002+09:30

Have just spent all evening reading applications for a junior administrative position in our School.

Word of advice: if you are thinking of applying for such a position - smiley faces are not dot points.

..... really.

a kitchen disaster post

2009-07-14T21:17:00.006+09:30

Since I started my current job late last year I've managed to wow the crowds with my culinary outings, from my famous Italian style pate, to a lovely chestnut tart, a rhubarb and raspberry crumble cake and a gigantic slab of baklava.

Tomorrow we're having lunch to say farewell to a departing fellow servant of the state.

In my head I had fantastic pastry. Mini shepherds pies and gorgeous lentil pasties. So I came briskly home from work to set upon the pastry. First thing to do was get that brand new packet of plain flour out of the pantry.

Hang on. How long have they been printing 'self raising' on plain flour?

Crap.

Ok, ok, don't panic. There's a bit in the plain flour container, and you have some pizza flour and some of the really cheap stuff that you use for dusting. OK, 5gm short. Hurrah.

mmmmm.... not so hurrah. After it's rested, it's dry and crumbly and I have awful trouble rolling it out. I make a couple of the pies, and decide to leave that, it's just too hard to get the dough into the mini muffin tins. Stick with the pasties.

I had made the most wonderful lentil curry on the weekend, so I set about cutting out circles of the less than perfect pastry. I should have stuck with the pies. Ever time I went to crimp the pasties, the dough broke and the curry leaked out, if I managed to get a circle of dough that was thin enough in the first place.

These are some of the better specimens

However, this is what most of them looked like.

I could have dealt with it if they tasted good, but the lentils had dried out and the pastry was way to short. It was like a mouthful of chalk.

Panic! Out come all my standard books, something with self raising flour,and not too much butter, as I'm running low on that too. Why can't I find anything with self raising flour!!!!!

Then I realise I have what I need for banana cake. Hardly revolutionary, but at least I won't go empty handed.

OK, flour, sugar, eggs, butter, bananas, milk. All set. Cream the butter and sugar. Hey this doesn't look right.

Of course it doesn't you dim-wit, because you've put in the flour, not the sugar.

Having used the last of the butter I have no choice other than to press on and mix it to within an inch of it's life. When I put it in the pan it had big chunks of butter still sitting in it. It's out now,and looks OK, but I think I'll cut it and try it before I leave tomorrow, just in case I have to face the ignominy of stopping at the shops on the way.

So, what started out as a sparkling clean kitchen and dreams of glory, ended with not one, but potentially three failed dishes and a kitchen that looks like this.

Worst thing is, as I was cleaning up I found another packet of butter in the fridge.

101-120

2009-07-12T15:44:00.004+09:30

OK, the top 20 are now on the radio, and I'm on the final stretch. Hope I have the energy to make it to the end

101 There She Goes - The Las
At one time widely considered by music journalists to be the best song ever written. Don't know if that was actually the case then or now, but it's a jolly fine tune.

102 Throw Your Arms Around Me - Hunters and Collectors
Going to show that Australian Pub Rock and have a soft side. Mark Seymour was just on the radio talking about this being a song about love. We all know it's a song about getting your leg over.

103 Tijuana Lady - Gomez
It took me a long time to come around to Gomez. This comes from the Bring it On album, which I've just found out is only 10 years old. Seems like they've been around longer than that. Great album, but I must admit to never having listened to anything else they've written.

104 Tomorrow Will Do - Hilltop Hoods
Adelaide's favourite sons. The Calling is a ripper little album, and this is my favourite song on it. Good phrasing. Nosebleed Section, from the same album, has just appeared on the radio at number 13.

105 Tower of Song - Leonard Cohen
Leonard played this when I saw him earlier in the year and the earth moved.

106 Town Called Malice - The Jam
Paul Weller grew up in Woking, which is enough to drive anyone to Punk I should imagine. Bands like the Jam, or the Saints or the Talking Heads, show that punk's not all about safety pins and spitting. Town Called Malice's about boredom and disillusion and knowing that there has to be something better, something more meaningful out that. I think we all think that. I wonder how many of us actually do something about it.

107 Transmission - Joy Division
Oh. My. Fucking. God. What a great song. I think my generation have been scarred by being taught to dance by Ian Curtis, Bez and Peter Garret. No wonder we all look like we're having fits. Ooops, Ian Curtis had epilepsy, didn't he? Errrr... sorry about that.

108 Try a Little Tenderness
Ducky Dale introduced me to this song. It builds, and troughs, and builds again, and then peaks incredibly!

109 Unbelievable - EMF
Not the greatest song ever, so people may be wondering it's doing in this list. If you have to ask, you weren't there.

110 Unfinished Sympathy - Massive Attack
The video for this, which was one continuous shot, was a ground breaker. I love the tempo and the phrasing of this track.

111 Vapour Trail - Ride
The Oxford group to challenge Manchester. Two fantastic albums and a really difficult, quite awful third one. Their guitarist Andy Bell now plays with Oasis, which shows how the mighty can fall.

112 Waterloo Sunset - The Kinks
The ultimate London band doing the ultimate song about London. If you've ever been near Waterloo Bridge on the way home from work on Friday, with the City starting to go to sleep, but Soho and South Bank starting to wake up, this song is like poetry.

113 Weirdo - The Charlatans
I've always had a soft spot for The Charlatans. They've always had an edge amongst a lot of soft brit pop. This song really is weird.

114 What Difference Does it Make - The Smiths
My official vote was for How Soon is Now, which did rate in the final count, but I only voted for that because I knew it had a chance. But really this is my favourite Smiths song. I love Morrisey's rhythm, and this song is a great example. Johnny Marr shows why he was the musical genius in the band.

115 White Riot - The Clash
Another quintessential London band, they grew up to the immediate north of where I worked, under the shadow of the West Way. Having experience the Notting Hill race riots, this is a song of solidarity and class politics. But having seen black Londoners risk life and limb to stand up against the establishment, it's also urging working class white English kids to work out what they believe in and take it to the streets.

116 Wrote for Luck - The Happy Mondays
I fell instantly in love with this song, and have multiple 12 inch remixes of it. The heady heyday of the Hacienda on vinyl.

117 Young Folks - Peter Bjorn and John
A very young contender in a list of old standards.

118 You Do Something to Me - Sinead O'Connor
Sinead O'Connor is obviously barking. But this is a beautiful version of this song.

119 You Made Me Realise - My Bloody Valentine
A friend of mine once served Kevin Sheilds a pint in a bar near Kings Cross. Back in Australia at this stage, I got an hysterical call from him around closing time in London. I had to go around and tell everyone that my friend McBeath had meet Kevin Sheilds. No one got it.

120 - Young Man, Old Man - The Dissociatives
Finally at number 120. I have a secret crush on Daniel Johns. I think we all do.

75-100

2009-07-12T11:33:00.006+09:30

Getting closer now.

76 Loretta's Scars - Pavement
See Number number 94

77 Love Comes Quickly- The Pet Shop Boys
The Pet Shop Boys get overlooked by those creating 'great' lists. The Pet Shop Boys were endearing. They were around forever, from the mid-80s until recently. Hell, for all I know they're still together. They made the wonderful disco tunes, with thought provoking lyrics and were really Out before it became common practice. Which is shameful really.

78 Lust for Life - Iggy Pop
This is best listened to on a car radio. Now famous for its role in the Trainspotting movie, it completely effectively conveys the title. This is a song that makes you enthusiastic about getting out and living. And form Iggy Pop. Who would have thunk it? It is noted that Iggy Pop also appears on the long list of people I regret not seeing at a Big Day Out.

79 Neighbourhood #1 - Arcade Fire
Quite possibly the best song every written in the history of time. The high-hat that comes in at the beginning makes all the badness in the world disappear.

80 One Step Beyond - Madness
Madness are interesting. Everyone loves them from Rude Boys to Grandmas. If you've ever been to the Camden Lock Markets you'll understand how much sense they make there.

81 Pablo Picasso - Modern Lovers
I once saw Jonathan Richmond interviewed and it may have been the funniest thing I've ever seen. I discovered this song when it was covered by a local act I used to see a lot when I was a first year. Their version was fantastic, but the original is always the best. John Cale produced this, which you can really hear.

82 Personal Jesus - Depeche Mode
This has added appeal to me, as a collector of religious stuff as I do have several personal Jesuses. This is seriously danceable, and is extra good for Goths who can swing around on the dance floor with their deathy robes flowing out behind them. I'm not sure if Depeche Mode wanted to be Goth icons, starting as New Wave I think they'd prefer to be Gay Icons. But Dave Gahn is quite obviously barking mad - heroin addictions, obsessive tattooing etc.

83 Psycho Killer - Talking Heads
The punk band you're having when you're not having a punk band. This had a great clip too, although apparently one of the few I'm not adding here. They always seemed to be out of place in their genre, even before David Byrne donned the over sized suit, really I think they were more a movement of their own.

84 Punk Rock Girl - The Dead Milkmen
I'm not sure if I'm the only person on earth who would have this in their list. Possibly. But on the radio they're playing Guns'n'Roses at the moment, so I ask you - who's crazy now?

85 Rise - Public Image Limited
Johnny Rotten headed the Sex Pistols. We all though he was a genius. Then we discovered the Malcolm McLaren was the genius. We all thought Johnny Rotten was a tool. Then we realised that Malcolm McLaren was a very annoying, pretentious idiot. Then John Lydon came along with PIL. We thought, actually maybe this guy has something to say. And the song's are good too. Then the Sex Pistols reformed to cash in on the punk-revival and we weren't sure what to think anymore. Apparently he's now doing adds for margarine on UK telly.

86 Rock and Roll All Night - Kiss
Most of us have been to a wedding, or some dodgy party where this has played when we've had enough champagne cocktails that we've got onto the dancefloor.

87 Running Up That Hill - Kate Bush
When I was younger I couldn't stand Kate Bush. Really, really disliked her. Really. Then one day, not that long ago, I heard this song somewhere and suddenly, in my adult world, the lyric made sense and the music just jumped inside me and went for a bit of a run around. Kind of like Kate and the hill, I guess.

88 Shake Your Rump - Beastie Boys
Whoop Whoop, it's the Disco Call

89 She Sells Sanctuary - The Cult
The Cult haven't aged as well as you might have thought they would, although they did have a comeback single recently, or Ian Astbury did.

90 Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana
I suspect that this may take up the number 1 spot in the official countdown. I don't think it's necessarily a fantastic song, I don't even think it's Nirvana's best song, and I'm not even a great Nirvana fan. But when this song came out, everything seemed to change, and I think that earns it a spot in this list.

91 Son of a Preacher Man - Dusty Springfield
Poor Dusty didn't have the easiest of lives. But her songs are timeless.

92 Song 2 - Blur
Blur started as a pretty boy Brit Pop band, coming off they back of Madchester with a great single 'she's so high', which had a picture of a hippopotamus on the cover of the 7-inch. I still remember the first time I heard it. Their first couple of albums were good, but very scenish, which I think destracts people from just how good song writers they are, and how solid their later albums are. I think this is one of the shortest songs ever written, and always reminds me of low flying planes, not sure why. Maybe because they're made of heavy metal. God, I'm cracking myself up today... .... ...

93 Streets of Your Town - The Go-Betweens
Another summer song, which is not surprising for a Queensland band. This song broke the Go-Betweens into mainstream, just as their careers were coming to an end. Reminds me that Anything I Could Do should have been in this list as well.

94 Summer Babe - Pavement
Speaking of songs that should be in this list, this is the second Pavement song in this post. And all it does is to remind me of the songs that should have been in the list that aren't: Gold Soundz, Cut Your Hair, Range Life, Summer Babe, Two States. Best band ever? Gotta be in the top 5 (no, I'm not making any more lists)

95 Sure Shot - The Beastie Boys
Ha! The beasties are on the radio now. But for Sabotage, which is another fantastic song, and could happily have appeared as my third Beastie Boys song in the 's' category. Both Sabotage and Sure Shot were on their Ill Communication album, which I have had stolen no less than twice. Maybe three times, I'm starting to loose track. Sure Shot opens up the record, which is a classic in itself. The Beasties are one of those acts that sort of fly under the radar, despite having released decades worth of solid music. I did actually manage to see them one year at the infamous Big Day Out and the bogan Australian crowd were dreadful to them. Will be amazed if they ever come back.

96 TeenAge Riot - Sonic Youth
A bunch of old(er) folk writing about teenagedom. Successfully. Everyone thinks my cat Thurston is names after Thurston Moore. He's not, that's another story. But I do have a friend whose son is named Thurston after Thurston Moore. Apparently their new album rocks. Stayers when so many of their peers have faded away (Nirvana, Dinosaur Jr etc). Lee Ranaldo has also produced some of the best records over two centuries.

97 That's Entertainment - The Jam
This paints such a picture. The Wonder Stuff did a not nearly as good a version too.

98 The Killing Moon - Echo and the Bunnymen
Despite the intrinsic value of this song it always reminds me of the Young Ones, the scene when Vyvyan steals Ric's "girly purse" and he threatens to write to his MP. But you don't have an MP Ric, you're and Anarchist. OK then, I'll write to the lead singer of Echo and the Bunnymen - Dear Mr Echo...... Oh tee hee, sorry lost myself there a moment.

99 The King is Dead - The Herd
Talk about a moment in time. This was the Howard defeat in the election of 2007. One of the best moments of my life.

100 The Partisan - Leonard Cohen
There are many reasons to love this song. It's Leonard Cohen. A part of it's in French. It's about WWII.

61-75

2009-07-11T11:25:00.008+09:30

The real Triple J Hottest 100 of All Time starts in about an hour, so I'm going to try to get all of mine posted, before I find out what the nation's number one is sometime Sunday afternoon.

61. Hey Boy, Hey Girl - The Chemical Brothers
This entry also involves the by now infamous XTC fan who has featured widely in this little adventure. When I was a student I was certainly part of the 'music scene'. Adelaide has a pretty lively and healthy music scene for a town of its size, maybe because for young people there's precious little to do other than drink large quantities of beer and go out to gigs. So when I was younger it seemed like everyone I knew was involved in the music industry. I shared a house for a few years with a guitarists/music retailer/label owner/band manager/music whore. Often when one of his bands was supporting a touring Australian band I'd wake up to find the hall full of amps and the lounge room full of rhythm section members smelling of cheap spirits.

But this is getting away a bit from the Chemical Brothers. The XTC fan worked in a record shop with the the guitarist flatmate. I use to spend a stupid amount of money on records purely on the basis that the NME told me they were good. Often they were, often they weren't. But we were Indie Kids. Not Rude Boys. Not Punks. Not Goths and certainly not ravers. And we did not listen to dance music. Except me. I will dance to almost anything. And I was derided for it seriously. If I were still in touch with the XTC fan he would be mortified to see the Chemical Brothers in this list.

I once saw the Chemical Brothers play at the Brixton Academy. On a Tuesday and it was almost midnight when they came on. I was less than functional the next day. The next time I saw them was in the Boiler Room at the Big Day out and I had to queue for about a quarter of the set to get in!

62. I Melt With You - Modern English
You probably have to have watched John Hughes movies as a teenager to appreciate the musical value of this song, but the guitars have a particular quality that I think appeal to people my age.

63. I Will Survive - Gloria Gaynor
What a great song! Fantastic lyrics of, well, survival. Not a song of a woman moping about pining for the bloke who left her, who by all accounts sounds like a bit of a boar. No, Gloria shoves two fingers proudly to the world and gets on with it.

64. I Won - The Sundays
I am now listening to the official countdown streaming through my computer and number 100 is Franz Ferdinand's Take Me Out. The Sundays piss all over Franz Ferdinand. I think they only released one album (maybe two) but all tracks are little corkers. Gloria Gaynor would be proud of Harriet Wheeler and this song. But please tell me, how come I can remember the name of the singer from a band from the 1980s but I can't remember the password for the HR account at work?

65. In A Big Country - Big Country
Guitar Bag Pipes. Need I say more?

66. Johnny Come Home - The Fine Young Cannibals
The Fine Young Cannibals may have the honour of being the most un-photogenic band in history, and maybe the for being the worst dancers.

67. Jump Around - The House of Pain
I don't think I should like this song. I think it's a bit violent and a little misogynistic. But it's soooo catchy.

68. Know Your Product - The Saints
This is one of my official top ten votes. The Saints were probably Australia's first punk band. The lads are from Brisbane, then a banana republic thanks to highly conservative, regressive, restrictive, corrupt, dictatorial politics led by then premier Joh Bjeelke-Petersen. Aka The Devil. Like most Brissy bands of the time I think that The Saints were forced to move camp to southern states/overseas to make sure that baton wielding police didn't shut their shows down.

I find that punk song can have this much brass in it rather refreshing.

69. La Vie En Rose - Edith Piaf
The only song I can confidently sing in French from beginning to end. Beautiful.

70. Last Goodbye - Jeff Buckley
Jeff made an appearance yesterday. The son of famous 1960-70s musician Tim Buckley, both met sad, early ends. Jeff famously calmly, consciously walked in the Mississippi River one night never to return. And so the Last Goodbye became even more poignant.

71. Lazarus - The Boo Radleys
I tried to find a clip for this song to upload, because I'm not really sure how to describe it. A swirling storm of trumpet and pedal and swimming shoe gazer vocals.

72. Lazy Eye - Silversun Pickups
Every summer there's a song. A song I can't get out of my head. A couple of years ago this was it. I haven't heard anything else by this mob that comes close, and frankly first time I heard it I though the singer was female. It has a stonkingly good guitar solo in the middle.

73. Levi Stubb's Tears - Billy Bragg
Midnight Oil are on the radio now. I don't know if I've forgiven Peter Garrett, or if he needs to be forgiven.

But this is Billy Bragg's second appearance in as many posts. Like David Gedge from the Wedding Present Billy manages to combine beautiful lyrics with an inability to sing. Would the songs mean as much if he could? Probably not. The narrative in this one makes you want to cry.

74. Like A Rolling Stone - Bob Dylan
Probably about 15 years ago there was a TV documentary series called Dancing in the Streets, which followed the development of Western popular music. I'd never really been that much of a Dylan fan, but this series had a whole episode of him.

Suddenly, I got it. And the gods swooned.

I've never really had such a light bulb moment. So this is what everyone's been talking about! And I was hooked. Seriously hooked. Whole back catalogue in one purchase hooked. I could see how he, and others but particularly him, stood out from the other bubblegum singers of the 1960s.

75. Lock It - Falling Joys
Another classic Australian song. Great guitars that envelope you like diving into the ocean on a hot day.

And as I sign off Stevie Wonder's playing. Solid.

51-60

2009-07-10T17:12:00.007+09:30

In a rush, heading off to eat steaming hot plates of Indian food, so this will be brief.

51. Great Leap Forward - Billy Bragg
Billy Bragg really does write the best lyrics, and one of the best bits about this song is when you hear him play it live he changes the content to suit contemporary politics.

52. Groove Is In The Heart - Deelite
Believe it or not, this is considered by many to be my theme song.

53. Hallelujah - Jeff Buckley
I could have picked Leonard Cohen or KD Lang's version of this, but I have a soft spot for Jeff

54. Happy House - Siouxie and the Banshees
My Goth roots shining through

55. Happy When It Rains - Jesus and Mary Chain
Ditto

56. Hazy Shade of Winter - Simon and Garfunkel
I like the line about the Salvation Army Band with the little trumpet. The Bangles did an all-things-considered not too bad cover of this that appear in the film Less Than Zero, based on the Bret Easton Ellis novel, a book and film that were icons for me and my teenage friends, and was included on an extended research piece I did for Year 12 English on contemporary American authors.

57. Heart's a Mess - Goyte
This is an odd choice for me, but there's something sad and dark about this that I like. Apparently he plays all his own instruments, if you know what I mean. His name's pronounce like Gautier, as in Jean Paul, but apparently it's Flemish for William or something.

58. Henry Lee - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
Looooooovvvvvvvveeeee Nick Cave. This was a somewhat random pick. Most of Abattoir Blues or Henry's Dream could have made it.

59. Heroes - David Bowie
I love the chorus to this. Apparently it's the way vocal gates were set up on a series of mics in the studio that did it.

60. Hey - Pixies
Hey, been dying to meet you!

41-50

2009-07-07T20:33:00.003+09:30

Unfortunately things have been busy recently and keeping me away from my list making. Even more unfortunate was the fact that one of those things is food poisoning. I like to think I have a fairly strong constitution, but there's apparently a limit to how long you can keep meat in the fridge. I have found that limit.

But on a happier note.

41. Ever Fallen In Love - the Buzzcocks
Lots of punk in this list. I'm obviously more punk rock that I thought. I've seen the Buzzcocks play more times than someone born in the 70s should. One year they played the Old Lion. A jaunty little local act, Cerveza y Putas, supported. I went to Uni with the CYP chaps. So I was at the British for a couple of drinks before (I went with the XTC fan from a previous post. Being an 'industry' kind of person he had is name on the door. I was his plus one. Had to say my name was Bruce or something like that). Anyhoo, a stand in was drumming for the cocks this particular tour. So, we said to the CYPC (cerveza y putas chaps) at the bar at the British - what's it like meeting the Buzzcocks. FUCK THE BUZZCOCKS they said WE MEET MIKE JOYCE. Who would have thought the drummer from a fey little group called The Smiths would end up with a band called The Buzzcocks. So I can say I once sat next to some guy at a bar who meet the drummer from The Smiths.

I may never wash again.

42. Every Me Every You - Placebo
If this song plays anywhere in my vicinity I will jump up, grab you by the arm and bouncing like a tigger drag you onto the dance floor.

Don't say you haven't been warned.

43. Everybody's Got Something to Hide - the Beatles
Ah The Beatles. Is there anything you can't do? Like may I grew up with The Beatles and have inherited my mother's numbered White Album vinyl. Ringo does his best work on this.

44. Express Yourself - NWA
One year the announcers at Triple J were told they had to play Kylie Minogue tracks. Back then The Js were much more hard core, so they all went on strike and played this track on continuous loop for days. It's got great beats, not to mention great lyrics... essspress yourself!

45. Eye Know - De La Soul
Back in the day, De La Soul were a little daisy chain in paddock of grunge.

46. Freak Scene - Dinosaur Jr
You cannot, I mean cannot, have a top 100 with out this song. Whether it should be there or not is immaterial. It's just the way it always has been.

47. Ghost Town - the Specials
Ska. What a strange, magical beast. Having shared a house for many, many years with one of South Australia's biggest ska fans, I speak from some knowledge. This is a classic, but for some reason when I sing the chorus in my head I always end up humming Madness songs.

48. Gigantic - the Pixies
The Pixies raise their gigantic heads again. There are not adjectives in the English language superlative enough to qualify just how fucking fantastic this song is.

49. Girl From Mars - Ash
Jingle-jangle-pretty-boy. And I'm dancin' again

50. God is a DJ - Faithless
If God is a DJ what colour undies does he wear?

31-40

2009-07-02T20:35:00.002+09:30

Last post went on a bit. Didn't it? Far less pop-trivia today. In fact I'm going to try to keep them to one or two sentences each. Lots of videos today though, because I just can't pick one.

31. Crazy - Gnarls Barkley
Catchy, catchy, catchy

32. Crunchy Granola - Neil Diamond
Everyone owns Hot August Night, don't they?

33. Dalliance - The Wedding Present
I know you've never heard of the Wedding Present, but I an assure you, if you love perfectly crafted songs of broken hearts and endless yearning set to the most outstanding guitar music on earth sung by some bloke who can't really sing but is so poetic it makes your heart want to weep you haven't lived until you Buy This Album.

34. Dear God - XTC
The problem with being staunchly political, is that it invades every aspect of your life, and I also had a friend who was a member of the XTC fan club. Yes, an actual member.

35. Debaser - The Pixies
Everyone loves to pogo to songs about slicing up eyeballs and movies with great stretches of guitar solos. The Pixies are one of the few bands to make multiple appearances in my list.

36. Dirty Harry - Gorillaz
Showing that Damon's not just a pretty boy with the marvellous concept of a cartoon band with a couple of good strong albums that make you get up off your seat at 4.30am for one more dance, this song featured strongly in my 30th Birthday outing.

37. Don't Believe the Hype - Public Enemy
I'm not sure if you can be white and really understand Public Enemy? Their duet with Anthrax is another stand out - Hear The Drummer Get Wicked!!!!!

38. Don't Know Why I Love You - The House of Love
Another poorly known band with more strong connections to the XTC fan. Perfectly captures a moment on the musical timeline.

39. Don't Want to Know if You Are Lonely - Husker Du
Pure Rock'n'Roll.

40. Don't You Want Me - Human League
Classic New Romantic song, another one with a good narrative.

21-30

2009-07-01T21:10:00.005+09:30

21 Brimful of Asha - Cornershop
Famously the song with the 'bosom' line. Cornershop started off as an ultra-alternative bedroom band, limited release 7-inch records that the gang at seeing ears records lapped up like crazy. This song was a move to the mainstream. Frankly, it was much better than the stuff on the limited release 7-inch records. I know. I have several.

22 Brown Eyed Girl -Van Morrison
Old Grumpy Bum. How can someone so dour write words so soft? Like the Hummingbirds below, this is the sort of song you want to listen to on a warm day, maybe in a car with windows wound down, playing loud with you and a mate singing the tra-la-las at the top of your lungs.

23 Bye Bye Badman - The Stone Roses
I wasn't around when punk broke like a big fat fart over the stodge of prog-rock - well I was. In 1978 I was in Mr Burford's year 3 class and bit oblivious to punk, although I did have a tartan skirt. Not a lot of punks in eastern suburbs Adelaide. But ten years on and things were again starting to get a bit boring.

BAM! Madchester

and at the forefront was the Stone Roses divine, debut, eponymous album. The album with 'the best song of all time' on constant loop. It's a tough job to pick my favourite Stone Roses song, but I've tried to have bands in this list once only, so this is it. Like Okervill River's Black this has such dark lyrics in such an up tempo song. Fools Gold comes in at number 2, but really it could have been any of them.

24 Bye Bye Pride - The Go-Betweens
To not love the Go-Betweens is about as un-Australian as it's possible to get. Amanda whats-her-name's clarinet in this makes it so memorable. But I also love the lyrics. Amanda Brown, I just googled it.

25 Cannonball - The Breeders
When the Pixies broke up we all wanted to die. Then Kim Deal and her twin sister whose name escapes me formed the Breeders. And it was like the Pixies, but different, and just as good, but different. Particularly the weird sound effects and heavy rhythm, but maybe that's because of the highly developed ego of the bass player.

26 Caravan of Love - The Housemartins
Socialist Christians? I should think nothing is guaranteed to make you into a socialist like living in Thatcher's England. What amazes me is that it turned out one of these guys is Fatboy Slim.

27 Cigarettes Will Kill You - Ben Lee
When Ben Lee was a lad he used to spend time hanging out in lounge rooms with Evan Dando from the Lemonheads playing dirty, nasty guitar music. Then he hit those difficult teenage years, when most people grow their hair and wear t-shirts with rude words on them. However young Ben cut his hair, moved to America and shacked up with Claire Danes. Strange.

And mostly his music went seriously downhill. I understand that the lads from the Chaser did a skit about him last night. And why are they always the 'lads' from the Chaser. Apparently they're also in the poo for doing a skit about Michael Jackson, but is there a comedian on earth who hasn't done a skit about Michael Jackson? If so they're not trying hard enough. But I digress.

This is a good song. I like it.

28 Come on Eileen - Dexy's Midnight Runners
Raggle Taggle before there was Raggle Taggle. Strangely I think they also did a version of Jackie Wilson Said, also performed by the divine Mr Grumpy Trousers mentioned above.

29 Common People - Pulp
This is another dancehall fave. It has an interesting narrative for what is intrinsically a throw away pop song. Then again Neil Tennant once said the snappy pop tracks are the ones that will be remembered through time, because they're the ones that stick in your head. Always reminds me of being in smoky, poorly lit London bars, that always seem to have the loos up a perilously steep flight of stairs, unsuitable for the over-imbibed.

30 Connection - Elastica
Who will Justine end up dating? Will it be Damon Blur or that guy from Kingmaker (I quite liked Kingmaker. Have a couple of their albums. I may be the only person on earth who did on both counts). Of course for avid readers of the NME in 1993 she ended up with Damon, before he left her to leave someone else to end up with that French chick. Elastica burst onto the Camden scene and disappeared nearly as quickly. This record actually has a B-side that is probably better than this song, but that thumping base line makes you swing your hips in an oh-so particular way!

11-20

2009-07-01T06:29:00.003+09:30

My last post has created many a comment (only one here, but many to my face). How do you pick 120 songs? Easy, you go through you record collection, and the list on the triplej website and rely on your crusty, decaying memory. Are they the best 120 songs of all time? Mercy, has there ever been a more subjective question. Do I think they are the best 120 songs of all time. Probably not, I don't know if I could make such a list. But they are 120 songs that I either love, have a particular memory attached to, or represent something for me (a musical movement, a political movement, a point in time).

And on that point I should note that normally the Jackson 5's I Want You Back probably would have appeared in here somewhere. But for some reason I can't explain I kind of feel like I'd be bandwagon jumping, so have left it out. Maybe it would have fallen out anyway, I started with a list of over 200.

Anyway, numbers eleven to twenty are:

11 Bizarre Love Triangle - New Order
If I were indeed writing a list of the best songs of all time, I quite probably would have put at least half the New Order catalogue in. They are probably my favourite band of all time. Born out of the ashes of Joy Division, they have consistently put out toe tapping, sometimes complex, little rippers. In reality I had five New Order songs on my short list. This one probably made it because I'd heard it on the radio in the car that day and so it was in the front of my mind.

12 Black - Okkervill River
Very Black indeed. The jaunty little pop tune belies the content, of abduction and child abuse. The lyrics intensely enticing and exciting; ripping troats out, the destruction of lives. These guys are genius.

13 Blank Generation - Richard Hell and Voidois
In the late 1970s it seemed like Richard Hell was in every band on earth. This song stuck in my head the first time I heard it "I was screaming get me outta here before I was even born". I probably heard this for the first time nearly 10 years after it was released, but it still rang true for me in my teenage angst then. The sound is just sooooo CBGBs

14 Blister in the Sun - Violent Femmes
When I was a teenager I probably saw the Violent Femmes play about a million times. OK, at least half a dozen.

15 Bloody Mother Fucking Arsehole - Martha Wainwright
Good punk sensibilities in today's list. This song impresses me with this woman standing up for herself, refusing to be something for someone else. Appeals to my pinko feminist philosophy. Martha also cranks out a jolly good tune.

16 Blue Flower - Mazzy Start
There is a story that goes with song, but I'm too much of a lady to repeat it here.

17 Blush - The Hummingbirds
Much more pop than punk, The Hummingbirds were part of a fraternity (or maybe sorority) of uber-poppy shoe gazing Australian bands. They are a summer band, you want to be standing somewhere with your bare feet on the grass and the sun shining, not too brightly, on your shoulders when you sing these songs. I memorably saw them play with The Falling Joys at Club Foote

18 Bohemian Like You - The Dandy Warhols
This song represents Shotz, a very dodgy nightclub I was going to about a decade ago. It's a great fun night out song and everyone can shout 'who-hoo' together in the chorus. Good percussion too.

19 Born Slippy - Underworld
I Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor

10 Bottle Rocket - Go! Team
A couple of years ago the Big Day Out was a few days after I returned to work from a month's holiday in India. I didn't feel I could take another day off to go. The Go! Team played that year and I have regretted passing up the option to see them ever since. Thunder Lightening Strike is one of my all time favourite albums too.

Indulgence

2009-06-28T11:26:00.004+09:30

As mentioned last time Triple J's Hottest 100 has been a hot topic of conversation in my social circles. It's what happens when you hang out with as many music nerds as I do. Yesterday I was with Princess helping her prepare for her son Birdie's first birthday party today (Happy Birthday Bird). We compared what we had put on our lists, and what we had left off and our reasons for both. One thing led to another, and well, you know how it goes, I now have my top 120 songs of all time.

Really.

120.

And this is just with a couple of hours thought and a broadband connection. Given time I'm not sure if I could keep it under 200.

So, if you're not interested in popular music I wouldn't bother visiting this site for at least a fortnight, maybe more. Because I'm gonna list every one of those 120. And I've been thinking about how to list them. Should it be by date, or by the club that I was going to when I first heard them, which is also sort of chronological (Lost In Space 1988-2001, Time Tunnel 1990-1992, Slumberland 1993-1997 etc). Or it could be by country, or label, or producer. Then I realised I'm starting to sound like that guy from the High Fidelity book/movie. So they're just here alphabetically by song title.

They do date me though. I've just turn 38, so I was in high school in the mid-80s and university in the late 80s/early 90s, and now at the end of the naughties am buying much less music than I used to, but there are a few contemporary tracks in here. They feel a bit like interlopers in a list of records that I've loved for decades.

But 1-10 are

1. 10:15 - The Cure
It's quite appropriate that the Cure are first cab off the rank. In 1986 I was in grade 10, and up to then had listened to whatever Count Down told me to. By this time The Cure had lost a bit of their edge, but their Head on the Door album opened up a new world to me. Admittedly that world was Goth and it all got a bit weird for a while, but it taught me that if I was able to ignore the radio and the charts there were fantastic artists writing music that I could relate to - ie not about beautiful blond boys falling in love with blue eyed girls. But music about not fitting in, and not liking yourself and suspecting that most of the people in this world are dickheads. Like I said - Goth.

2. A Fairytale of New York - The Pogues and Kirsty MacColl
Kirsty MacColl died when she was decapitated by a boat propeller while swimming somewhere in South America (or was it South Africa? Answers on Back of a Post Card). This is the best Christmas Carol ever written.

3. Another Girl Another Planet - The Only Ones
A sentimental favourite. Always on the turn table at Lost in Space.

4. Ant Music- Adam and the Ants
For the percussion. And the ants. Unplug the Jukebox

5. Are You Ready to Be Heartbroken - Lloyd Cole and the Commotions
I'm not sure if Lloyd Cole won international success, or if it was just groups of fay euro-centric arts students, but the boys all wanted to be Lloyd Cole and the girls all wanted to fall for Lloyd but have him tell them that it would never work out because it would just distract them from his time with Keats.

6. At First Sight - The Stems
From Perth. Sweet, delicate pop music in a way Australians specialise. Who would have though a national of convicts, hoons and AFL players could write tunes so utterly heartbreaking!

7. Atomic - Blondi
For the riffs

8. Bet You Look Good on the Dance Floor - Arctic Monkeys
The new Jesus and Mary Chain? Gruff, rough but oh so very catchy. First single from their first album, although the second album was stronger. Still contenders?

9. Big on Love - The Models
Coincidentally just after I finished putting my list together I turned on Rock Wiz to find Sean Kelly to be one of the guests (although he sang I Feel Motion, another cracker). From a period, thanks probably to Mushroom Records, when Australia really did have a thriving, home kept pop industry with solid bands turning out great tracks that also made the charts. I suspect it's harder for the kids these days

10. Bittersweet - The Hoodoo Gurus
See above. Seriously - is Brad Shepherd the coolest man ever to hold a guitar. swoon

another list, but this one has rhythm

2009-06-21T13:13:00.002+09:30

Polling is on for the Triple J Hottest 100 of All Time. This event is bound to cause heated front bar discussions, pointing of fingers and thumping of tables. At least it has in my world in the last couple of days.

So to bear my soul, wear my heart on my sleeve in a way that could not be any more meaningful, here are the ten songs that I was able to narrow down to my top 10. Some are classics, some are new favourites and some are in here just because of the way they changed the musical landscape.

In no particular order:

1. Joy Division - Transmission
2. Arcade Fire - Neighbourhood #1
3. Bob Dylan - Like a Rolling Stone
4. The Go-Betweens - Bye Bye Pride
5. My Bloody Valentine - You Made Me Realise
6. Okkervil River - Black
7. Pavement - Loretta's Scars
8. The Pixies - Hey
9. The Saints - Know Your Product
10. The Smiths - How Soon is Now

Left, heart bleeding on the cutting room floor:
The Cure - 10.15
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Henry Lee
The Stone Roses - Bye Bye Badman
Jesus and Mary Chain - Happy When It Rains
Leonard Cohen - So Long Marianne
Jeff Buckley - Last Goodbye
The Charlatans - Only One I Know
The Beatles - Day in the Life
Iggy Pop - Lust For Life
The Ramones - I Wanna Be Sedated
The Go! Team - Bottle Rocket
Husker Du - Don't Want to Know
Happy Mondays - Wrote For Luck

... and many more.

when i was a lass - or grumpy old woman post 163

2009-06-20T15:42:00.003+09:30

Last night, after a long day of feeling mighty poorly, I dropped one of the archaeologists from work who doesn't drive home (the faery archaeologist) and over a couple of drinks we decided that there needed to be an end-of-degree topic that covered all the general knowledge stuff that students these days don't seem to know about.

We came up with our top 10. Please bear in mind that these are very centred toward Dr A and my cultural backgrounds, but are all events/concepts that we have recently found evidence to show our Gen Y students know nothing about:

1. Kristallnacht (in fact most of WWII, or indeed WWI if we come to mention it)
2. Nefertiti
3. The difference between the students' cat and the student's cat
4. Indigenous Maritime Archaeology and the population of the Australian continent
5. Cultural Imperialism
6. The Boxer Rebellion and Opium Wars
7. The Rise and Fall of the Soviet Union
8. The origins of the English language
9. How to make your own bread
10. Why we owe so much to the feminist movement

Yes, as I said these have a strong humanities bent to them, but that's what we spend our days talking to students about, so this is what we know they don't know. If you get my drift.

I'm sure if we worked in science there'd be tonnes of science things (and numeracy) issues for us to deal with there. Any additions to our list would be welcome. All we need to do now is get the university to let us run it.

PS: If you are a Gen Y'er who knows this stuff, good on you. Could you come and do one of the degress in our School please?! We'd like to raise the tone a little.

7 great things to do in shanghai

2009-06-15T20:23:00.006+09:30

1. Visit the Jade Buddha Temple

2. Wonder at the marvels in the fabulous Shanghai Museum

3. Eat like the locals do

4. Be thankful you don't breath this air everyday

5. Get some acupuncture

6. Discover the chic and stylish artists compounds

7. Explore the laneways of the French Concession

rule number 3

2009-05-31T16:28:00.003+09:30

I have a piece of paper pinned to the board in my office. It reads simply:

'Rule number 3: never, ever, ever do a Phd'.

It was given to me by the (soon to be) Dr Brown. Dr Brown's on the verge of submission, so hurrahs go out to him. But it's been a long, hard, torturous road from all accounts.

I'm only at the Masters stage and I know how he feels. I have lived and breathed site interpretation for a particular location in the Adelaide Hills for at least the last two weeks. I have forsaken all others, eaten poorly, slept too little and spent hours upon hours of weekend time away from home and hearth to drive along the freeway and walk about in the rain.

And mid last week I put my research submission into them. Have I heard anything? Have I crap. Not even a 'thanks BHG, we'll have a look as soon as we can and get back to you in the next couple of weeks'. Frankly I think the whole thing's going to go under. And frankly, my dear, I couldnae give a tinkers.

So I'm at home, after another lack-luster weekend finishing off a course work assignment on why guiding at St Peter's Cathedral is absolutely pants.

Thank god I'm having dahl for dinner. Oh yeah, and leave for China on Thursday. Only glimmers in another wise dull and listless life. Well, not at all really my life's pretty good, I'm just bored with this assignment and frustrated about the thesis.

Oh yeah, because I know you're wondering:
Rule number 1: Just answer the question and you'll do fine
Rule number 2: Never, ever, ever do a PhD.

On reading the assignment I'm writing I'm not at all sure I've complied with rule number 1. It could be a long night.

on offaly good yarn

2009-05-19T20:48:00.004+09:30

Offal is not something a lot of people are really into. I'm almost one of them. Kidneys are a bit squishy. There's something that just won't let me eat brains, and tongue makes me think of boys I knew in high school.

Liver, however, I like. It's nice on pasta, or curried. But it's so rich I can only eat small portions before it all makes me a bit swoony in the stomach area.

But pate is another story.

Tonight I'm cooking up a storm, because tomorrow is Wednesday. And every Wednesday someone in my work place brings morning tea. I've been telling everyone since I started how much I love my time in the kitchen, so now it's time to put my money where my mouth is.

I'm making my famous rhubarb-ripple-raspberry-yogurt-ricotta-crumble cake, and a chestnut tart that I made up over the weekend, some cheese savories and my all time famous Italian style pate.

The following photos are a little on the less than glamorous side, but the results are outstanding

Ingredients
500g chicken livers, cleaned
125g mince (I prefer turkey)
1 onion
2 cloves garlic
2 eggs
2 tablespoons plain flour
1 tablespoon cream
a splash of brandy
bacon
herbs

Firstly brown the liver and the mince in a pan until they're sealed.

Put the onion and the garlic in a food process and finely chop. Add the liver and mince and blend until smooth. Add the brandy, flour and cream and mix, adding the eggs as the processor is turning, so that they don't cook to scrambled eggs. Season and add a pinch of dried herbs. I use Greek rigani, but you can use what ever you have.

Line a loaf tin with bacon rashers. I like to add a couple of bay down first, just for food bling, but I didn't have any this time. The pour the pate mix into the pan.

Cover tightly with foil and bake in a bain marie in a moderately hot oven for 75mins. Remove the foil and cook another 15mins. Then cool the pate completely and allow to set before turning out.

Of course the top when you cook it will be the bottom when you turn it out. Just so that it sat nicely I cut the bacon off with a pair of kitchen scissors. It had nothing to do with it being crispy and delicious. Really.

And this is what it looks like. Actually it's more impressive in the flesh, the light in my kitchen is dreadful during winter, and on the weekend when I made this the outside wasn't much better.

People have sold their souls for this recipe. And I'm giving it to you for nothing. Because I'm just that kind of Boring History Girl.

ooops

2009-05-14T05:46:00.000+09:30

Today is the day of the first Daring Cooks post. Being me, I wrote the post date in my diary for last Thursday. Apologies if that post spoilt the surprise for anyone.

one of my boys

2009-05-12T20:21:00.003+09:30

Seen lots of kid photos on line recently. This is my youngest, Tony. He has a thing for shoe boxes. Only shoe boxes. Not any other type of box. I guess I shall just have to buy more shoes.

Gee..... I love being an animal person!

All well laid plans

2009-05-10T14:58:00.004+09:30

Have had an afternoon at mother's making my first ever souffle. It was surprisingly easy, and wonderfully delicious. My cholesterol count is out da windae, man. Recipe to follow.

Had many plans for this afternoon. They are likewise out da windae.

apparently i have onions

2009-05-07T18:47:00.003+09:30

You may remember, a while I go I made the bold declaration that I was not a daring baker.

Daring Bakers was a great idea, try something new, extend myself, new skills etc etc.

The reality was that I ended up with huge piles of cakes, needed to buy equipment I've never used since and had to compete with blogs full of stay at home mum-days of sunlight photography-gee I'm a little board so I'll bake this great cake posts. Sorry, but you know it so is.

I really can't eat a whole cake on my own. And as I cycle to work it's too hard to transport it there - the refuge of most sad single girl bakers.

But then Daring Cooks came along. Nice stuff that I can have for dinner, and take the left overs to re-heat for lunch, or bung in the freezer and I was sold. This month is actually the first Daring Cooks' challenge. Shelly from Musings from the Fish Bowl hosted this month's challenge, which is ricotta gnocchi from Judy Roger's Zuni Cafe Cookbook. You'll have to excuse me, I'm known for my abbreviated recipes (and I'm on my fourth glass of wine for tonight - hurrah!), but this is how it goes.

500gm fresh ricotta (I'm not sure what kind of ricotta you would be using if it weren't fresh, but this is just what the recipe says. So put the mouldy ricotta back in the fridge and get some fresh stuff out)
2 large, cold eggs lightly beaten
1 tblspn melted butter
2-3 sage leaves or some grated lemon zest
1/4 cup grated Parmesan
salt
Plain flour for making the gnocchi.

Method
The day before you make the gnocchi you need to drain the ricotta. You can do this in a cheese cloth, or like me in a nice uber-thin tea towel (thank you to the cheapo souvenir salesmen in the Khan a-Kalili markets in Cairo for my Egyptian cotton tea towel), attached over a measuring jug with a rubber band. As you can see, quite a lot of fluid came out, and it stops the gnocchi being too soggy and disintegrating in the pan.

Once the ricotta is drained, mash it up in a bowl to get rid of the lumps, and stir through the eggs (mixing well). Add the sage to the butter if you're using it (I didn't) and once it's cooked for a bit stir it through the ricotta as well. Add the cheese and the salt.

Using two teaspoons form the dumplings and VERY gently coat them in flour, handling them as little as possible. The recipe suggests you refrigerate the dumplings for an hour to firm them up. I highly recommend doing this!!!!

Once you're ready to cook bring a large pot of water to a steady simmer. Then you cook them much like potato gnocchi. Pop them in, let them float to the top and then allow them to bob for about 3-5 minutes, until they're cooked firm. I would have happily bet that mine would fall apart at this stage, but much to my surprise they held together nicely!

I served them with my favourite spicy bacon and tomato sauce, with extra Parmesan.

However, it doesn't stop there. I had a desert version in my head. When making them I put a small spot of raspberry jam in the middle and carefully covered it over. Cooking them the same way, I drizzled over a chocolate sauce.

I was convinced this would be like a raspberry and chocolate cheese cake. It wasn't quite like that, but the sweet ones were better I think.

On the whole these were much easier to do than I had expected, but left a little wanting. Maybe they needed more salt or cheese (oh yeah, no Parmesan in the sweet ones but some sugar instead). They were just a little bland. Probably potato gnocchi and cheese cake will be more satisfying. These are probably healthier, and with some practice probably will have more flavour. They were pretty good re-heated for breakfast this morning.

Give 'em a go, just salt well!!!

busy saturday turned lazy saturday

2009-05-02T14:36:00.004+09:30

Like most of you, I'm sure, I had a list of things to get through day.

First and foremost was a trip to BikeSA. For the last couple of days my friend Lance has been staying at my house. I met Lance on an organised group bike ride in Victoria a few years ago and he's here to do BikeSA's Outback Odyssey - two weeks riding from Adelaide to Blinman. We were all teasing him because today is a 33km ride to Cudlee Creek. Even if he stops for five pieces of cake along the way he'd probably have been there by 10.30am - the ride started at 9am. But we're all just jealous, because we wanted to be going too. I was made to promise him that my Sunday morning ride would be less than 33km so as not to show him up too much. I could never show Lance up, I'm a pudgy weekend cruiser, he's a lean-mean-cycling-machine.

I then popped into the wonderful Central Markets and got some fresh veg and then moved onto the AWL shelter at Wingfield, where I paid the deposit for Tony and Apollo to board while I'm in China. I made sure I was there before the pound opened, just in case I had to suddenly pay for three cats to board while I was in China.

Wingfield is to the far west of Adelaide, down near the old port. I used to live in the inner western suburbs before my current home, a family property, became available in the snooty eastern suburbs, and I miss the west terribly. I would move back their in a heart beat. Coming back from the AWL I had to pass through what one of my Chinese friends call 'The Ghetto'. So called because there's more signs in Vietnamese than there are in English. This is the neighbourhood where poor Vietnamese refugees settled in the 70s, and unfortunately it's still a poor Vietnamese suburb. Driving through I thought it quite sad that more than 20 years on this neighbourhood is still struggling. On the whole, only now are the family of these people starting to take on successful professions outside of their own communities. I also noticed a lot of Sudanese faces in the area, so this must be the next wave of immigrants who will no doubt struggle to fit into an inherently racist Australian society.

The only good thing about keeping these people in The Ghetto is that you always know which suburbs to drive through when you're hungry. A particular favourite of mine and JC's (JC still lives in the west) is Tay Do. Tay Do does a few hot foods (buns, fried rice etc) but it's main stay is filled rolls.

And driving back home today I suddenly realised I hadn't had breakfast and I was starving! So starving that I bought two. Now Tay Do rolls are a bit like the Stone Roses' first album. Every time I listen to that album I start thinking that I Wanna Be Adored is the best song ever written, and by then I've changed my mind at every track and end up thinking I Am The Resurrection is the best song ever written. The roll I devoured as soon as I got home was a roast pork one. Filled with pickled carrot and cucumber, coriander and chili slices, a well as soft pork with a crispy, salty crust and I was certain that was my favourite flavour. I just ate my lemon grass chicken one and am now sure that is my favourite flavour. If I had another roast pork, I'd move back to that instantly - and so on. If you're ever in the Woodville area, find First Avenue and do yourself a flavour favour!

All going well. However on return to Chez BHG, I lay down on the couch. Three hours later I awoke. So now it's 3pm and the laundry's not done, last night's dishes are still in the sink and I haven't been to the supermarket.

Hurrah! This is what weekends should be like. I will make myself another cup of tea and rest of my laurels a little longer. I wonder where my laurels are? Don't want to rest on them some long I develop a blister or something.

Hope your weekend is just as wonderful and filled with something as delicious as Vietnamese rolls.

puddle jumping

2009-04-25T19:29:00.003+09:30

I should have called this procrastination post 1,967.

This weekend I am supposed to be cleaning the house to Teutonic standards in preparation for the house guest arriving next week. Needless to say I've done everything but. I've got as far as dusting the windowsill in the bathroom. Yep, that's about it.

It's too glorious to clean. The unthinkable has happened, the unexpected, the unspoken, the thing no one has ever dared to hope for.

It's raining. And how. It's blowing a gale and pissing down. It's freakin' glorious

And the cold weather has awoken a hunger in my so insatiable I'm not sure how I'll be come August. I should have taken pictures of my own roast duck and dumplings, but I made soup out of them and wolfed it all down, so here are some pictures similar to those I would have taken:

Also today is ANZAC Day, so once again I give thanks for being where I am, doing what I'm doing with the safety and serenity that was fought for by others.

arts degrees, please take one

2009-04-19T11:32:00.004+09:30

Back in pre-historic times (ie the 1980's, when I was an under-grad) there was much derision towards people such as my good self studying for a BA. It wasn't a 'real degree' because we didn't study 'real things' that got you a 'job'. I studied Latin and Ancient Greek and Modern European History. Waste of time this 'knowledge stuff' people would say. And so in the Barr Smith Library toilets, above the paper holder would be written 'arts degrees, please take one'.

As a side step from this story there was also Penis Man. If you wandered into the toilets by the entrance to the library you could see the first chapter of the Adventures of Penis Man, that was quite artfully drawn. You would then be directed to the second floor of the Ligertwood Building, and then the Mitchell Building, then the Napier and so on, and bit by bit you could put together the whole story of our hero's adventure. Students these days have no sense of humour, I can tell you.

These days I'm doing a Master of Tourism (a 'real course' from which I hope to get a job at the end of it), at the same institution where I am gainfully employed running the graduate program in, amongst other things, Tourism. Which means my peers are my 'clients'. And quite frankly sometimes I'm irked that these people will come out with the same qualification as me. On paper we will be equals. Maybe not. Take, for example, one telephone conversation I had on Friday.

BHG: "Hi, is that Student X? Good, I'm just ringing about your study this semester, we notice that you've enrolled in your thesis but we haven't heard from you, so your supervisor is just wondering if you are actually planning on doing work towards your thesis, or if you're deferring to next semester/year, in which case you should withdraw from this subject".

Student X (who, let me remind you, is in a Masters course): "Oh, no one rang me to tell me what I had to do, so I just assumed there was nothing required of me at the moment".

Then there are the international students. I know that they generate income, and by all means everyone should have access to education, but many, if not most, of these guys are setting themselves up for failure. I had three glorious hours of student interviews set aside on Friday to tell, predominantly but not exclusively, international students, that they have failed subjects/assignments and they are going to have to repeat/re-submit. Admittedly they don't do themselves any favours. After a business bachelor degree they think they can do a Master of Tourism, despite the fact that they come for counties so culturally diametrically opposed to the way things are done in Australia, with some having never had any personal contact with the concepts/activities they are having to write about.

We also run many of our subjects as intensives, three days of very heavy, intense teaching followed by a few weeks of independent study. Not good if your English is not strong, in these cases you're much better off with a couple of hours a week with time in between lectures to get your head around what has been discussed. However we run our courses this way because most of our clients are currently working in the industry and are studying to improve or certify their knowledge. In these cases three days of annual leave is much easier to organise than three hours every Thursday morning. As such we market our course as being industry friendly, intensive driven. It's on our website. If I were paying thousands and thousands of dollars and moving thousands and thousands of miles from my friends and family, I might have a squizz at the website first to see how the course I'm doing is structured, instead of complaining about it later.

Or maybe I'm being unreasonable, because I'm feeling bad because no one likes to tell student who are working hard and doing their best that they're failing.

Of course we will give these students chances to pass, to resubmit their work over and over and over until they just scrape across the line. We'll accept poor expression that we never would from a 'local' student (although being born in and raised in an English speaking country to English speaking parents no longer seems to qualify you for high levels of English literacy). Because education is a business. These people have the moolah so the business will take it and those at the coal face need to do what ever they can to help these people get over the line.

I'm not blaming the students, I'm blaming the machine. They are often students who have done very well in their home countries but now failing, and it's really hard for most of them. But it's also not fair on everyone else, who will come out at the end with the same parchment, but an entirely different skill set.

(I should also note that Student X described above is not an international student. They will be out in the same job market as me in a couple of years and it will be assumed that we will be equally employable. ***sigh***).

Last night I spent a lovely evening with Best Boss in the World, with whom I used to work in secondary education. That is a whole different minefield. We did however eat great Lebanese food, I can highly recommend this restaurant.