A day seized and trumped, if only in feeling

Today I feel like I have kind of accomplished something. That is not to say that I have done much. In fact I have probably done less than other days in the past month but somehow I feel like I have done something. As I believe I have said before I have been suffering from frustration because I feel like I never get anything done in my days. Yesterday when I saw my counsellor he suggested that I should plan my days . . . schedule in time for fitness stuff . . . job application stuff . . . crafty stuff. So today though I got up lateish because I was exhausted by Sunday night's sleepless night - it's been a while since I saw in the dawn . . especially without the excuse of partying on down at one of Karenski's fantabulous shindigs. But then I walked to pilates, saw Geet (she got hit by a car on Friday!! Right near where I got hit years ago - Look out for that South Tce/Unley-Pulteney intersection Bicyclops!), did pilates and then went home via Woolies. Got some brilliant bargains and went home to work on a chutney recipe. Some of you may know that I have also been suffering from a complex regarding food and cooking. I don't do that much of it anymore. But I decided that killing off a part of you . . . stopping a hobby that you enjoyed just because someone else doesn't appreciate it isn't a healthy approach. Get some perspective and move on. SOooooo . . . after Denni's encouragement on the weekend I decided to try my hand at making up a chutney - having become an avid connoisseur of the stuff. It turned out to be a rather soothing occupation. It did take hours . . but I was doing lots of other things while it boiled so it doesn't really feel like a long time. All the chopping . . . somehow it all produces a quantifiable outcome that makes you feel productive.
Then I made pumpkin soup for dinner but no-one was here so I watched Geldof being wanky. It was annoying because I thought at least I might learn something but all I got was some Englishman prattling on with far too many "arty" shots that would have been better had they not included the aforementioned Briton.

I have msned with Ryan and Mel today which was lovely . . also had brief chats with my J-land buds . . . Lane, Karl, Evan . . . Keinan (aka Chijimi)

Yesterday I spent much of the day in town by myself - at Uni doing random things and then I went for a break to the Botanic gardens and finished my latest book that I've been reading. I enjoyed it but there were far too many editorial mistakes and misprints for my liking. Where're the standards these days, I ask you ? It was so nice to laze about in the dappled sun that I stayed there for a while longer writing a letter to Pippa that strangely mirrors and reflect upon a lot of the stuff that she talked about in her posts of the past few days. Weird.

Then last night I had the strangest dream . . . I can see where bits of it are drawn from life but it was still disconcerting . . .
I was at a party or something. Then friends who have asked me to be a bridesmaid for their wedding suddenly just got married at this party - but they're not even bothering to have an engagement party anymore so I thought it couldn't have been that they'd decided to do the same as other acquaintances and just turn up and get married at their engagement gathering . . . . but that's how it abruptly happened. Then we were somehow at some banquet that consisted almost entirely of all weird and various Chinese style mushroom dishes. Somehow I talked through the dinner and most people had left when I started looking at all the mushrooms and filling a plate. And I hit someone - I put my plate down, and then someone behind asked me insistently to move, I picked up my plate which was suddenly empty and as I was looking for where my food had all gone this person patted my arse to get me to move so I turned around and hit them. But I think these things didn't happen together so immediately . . . then this girl, Sarah, that I hit and her boyfriend looked aghast and asked how I knew the bridal couple as I profusely apologised about hitting her and introduced myself. It was sooo weird. I felt awful about hitting her and couldn't quite work out why I'd done it. I haven't hit anyone properly since I used to fight with my brother as a kid and the violence of it really freaked me out even in a dream.
All I can say is that, Sair, if you know anyone called Sarah and you invite them to your wedding, you'd better let me know in advance!














Last Wednesday my uncle was given a dinner as a celebration of his being made a life memeber of SAFF (SA Farmers Federation).
It was a nice night - I got to sit and talk with my sister and SareB. Many talks were given . . . most of them noting how my uncle would single-handedly keep Telstra in business so it was worth buying T3 shares or something to that effect. Must be in the genes.

Mum told a story of my Poppa . . .
He was out somewhere and a bloke came up and said . . . "Now . . Len. I think my wife knows your wife". To which my Poppa replied "If I went to the North Pole the bloody penguins would know my wife".
My Dad lost it completely, along with the family sitting in a long line down one of the tables.
That was my Nan for you.


Saturday was pudding making day.

In our extended family it has always been mine that provides the Xmas puds for both the Harris and Martin aspects of our SouthEast Xmas extravaganza.

Lane doesn't even know what one is . . .
I don't like to eat them - think they're yucky once cooked even if the ingredients taste good for being boiled to buggery.
And someone asked why we were making them so early . . .

Where's the tradition people ???
It makes me think of Dan's pig experience.
It is a bonding thing . . . a thing of traditions; a handing down of cultural institutions. Most pudding makers have their own family recipes - their family's tradition that is intimately bound with their memories. It's not just about the proof of the pudding (the eating). It's about coming together to spend hours in each other's company; to chop, stir, gossip, ponder, to philosophize, to counsel and be counselled.
My experience in Japan has further served to highlight to me how the culture of food is a really interesting thing. Japanese culture is just that in many ways - it's so dominant that even Italian pasta dishes have nori in them. Australian food and food culture reflects our migrant country makeup. And our eating habits as a nation are so different . . . just look at an old Green and Gold cookbook.

On Sunday I went to a great show (sneak previewed on Saturday night as well) but I meant to wind this up much earlier but got chatting to Mel.
Stay tuned if you want to hear what band I thought were completely fabulous!!