anyresemblance

Cheat's exercise

This week I plan to: go to Pilates update my reading list on my blog update my links on my blog change the lightbulb outside the back door (involves getting step ladder out of the shed, getting reversible drill screwdriver out to undo the tight screws in the cover, and probably sourcing halogen light bulb) I think that's achievable even for me. My dear friend P came back from a work jaunt to Prague and London and brought me an enormous bottle of L'Occitaine bath foam. She makes my work life bearable. More dental torture was performed today. The peridontist has Far Side cartoons on his ceiling. Only a dentist could think that was amusing. My sister called me tonight from England and we chatted for half an hour. She is part of this Mystery Guest programme where she goes and stays in hotels for quality assurance. She had just spent 2 nights in a 5 star London hotel where she racked up a bill of 900 pounds. Among her tasks was to sample the bar (half a bottle of Pol Roger), order room service and ask for a yoga kit. What's that, I asked? A mat, a belt and a block, quoth she. Apparently it arrived within 5 minutes of being requested. And the bath stuff was Penhaligon. So what was missing, I asked? Apparently there was no fizzy water in the mini bar and no sewing kit. I think the Pol Roger made up for that. I also talked to Anne. She said some things about my work situation that made sense as to why it's been getting worse. And she gave me an idea for some things to focus on. Thanks for that coaching.

Sunday too tired

Are there any mothers out there who aren't in a permanent haze of tiredness. I mean, I know my children sleep (mostly) through the night, are old enough to entertain themselves (mostly) and don't require my constant vigilence (mostly) but I end up on a Sunday night completely shattered. Of course, the fact that their father has not had them for a full weekend for I don't know how long, since he is travelling a lot, has probably contributed but mothering is bloody hard work. Let's see, Friday was Learning Journeys at school. We got to visit Miss S's class and see the stuff she had been doing which was pretty cool. Her teachers said she was a delight. They'd had to design a board game around a book they had been reading. She chose His Dark Materials and her board was the alethiometer. She didn't want to do the usual snakes and ladders type approach so she called her game, the Moral Dilemma, and wrote questions like, "you have had three weeks to prepare for a test but haven't do you: a) study on the morning and try hard b) guess or c) cheat. Each answer had points and the winner was the person who ended up with most points. It was pretty cool. Her imagination often stretches beyond her execution but I am glad she has an ambitious vision. Saturday the kids went riding and I huddled in the car because it was FREEZING in the paddock. I am reading Barbara Nadel's series on Istanbul which I'm enjoying. I had just finished the Lovely Bones which I know has had mixed reactions but it I liked it though not the last few chapters. Miss S's friend came home with us and they played outside with the basketball most of the afternoon. Miss S has grown one centimetre in the last 5 weeks which amazes me. Another of her friends came over and they set up instant messenging on my computer (I use it at work but never at home) and sent ridiculous messages to their friends all evening. As all the friends were staying overnight, Miss I got to share my bed as a treat. To her. Not to me. Nice as it is to have a small body snuggled up it is torture when it wriggles and I sleep way better alone in my bed. Today I made pastry planning to make kitschenette's ricotta and tomato tart but I didn't get round to that. (By the way, via kitschenette's food blog I discovered the amazingly beautiful chocolate and zucchini and am now pondering how to make a bread with dark chocolate and candied orange peel) Instead I made sausage rolls with Miss I. It was the kind of cooking I remember doing with my mum who was an excellent baker. She loved the rolling of the pastry and the brushing with egg and the cutting into small pieces. We had been watching Return to Neverland on dvd (dire sequel to Peter Pan) and she was intrigued about the sub-plot of children evacuated. I told her about my mum being evacuated from London and having to leave her grammar school scholarship and meeting my dad and being a mother at 19. Since there is quite an age gap between my oldest sister and I, and because Miss I's understanding of the chronology of european history is limited, she got a bit confused about timelines and wanted to know if I had been evacuated as well. She was anxious about the prospect of separation and if that would ever happen to us. This afternoon, after all the friends had left, we filled a flask with cocoa and walked over to the basketball court at the school opposite us. It's in a shocking state of repair but we played with the ball, then played bullrush then sat under a tree and drank cocoa and ate chocolate brownies. It was fun. Then I cooked dinner: chicken roasted in the weber with lemon and garlic, roast asparagus, tomatoes stuffed with garlic and breadcrumbs, potato dauphinoise, and french beans. Then we had apple and blackberry crumble. I have these oval shaped individual pie dishes which are proving a hit for individual puddings. On Saturday night I made chocolate sauce puddings from a recipe my sister gave me when I was 16. It is still scribbled on the page of an exercise book and is super easy and Miss S's favourite pudding. I am dreading the week ahead. I fear my lack of passion for my soul-sucking job may be about to catch up with me. And I have to go to Melbourne on Wednesday for 2 nights and still haven't got child care sorted out. Which is about where I started this entry.....

The plane now standing

I was 21 before I had been on an aeroplane. I had by then been "abroad" several times - France, Spain, Portugal, Morocco - by ferry, car, train and cruise ship (the ill-fate SS Uganda which in the 70s was a educational school cruise liner and ended its life as a hospital ship in the Falklands). At that time I thought plane travel was enormously glamorous way to travel. When I was a child, we lived for some time in Staines (haunt of Ali G) close to Heathrow airport. We'd see planes taking off and landing all the time. My brother and I even saw one with engines ablaze making an emergency landing at the airport. One of my best friends at school, Linda Clarke, had a father who worked for BOAC and had exotic holidays in Bermuda and Egypt and other destinations that seemed to spell sophistication to me. Being an air hostess seemed the epitome of glamour. These days I take planes a lot. I've been in airports all over the world and done many long haul flights with or without children in every class of travel. I'm the jaded traveller arriving at the gate just on time and knowing which seat has the most leg room. And it's exhausting. Today's trip to Sydney characterised all that time wasting that is plane travel - the getting to and from the airport, parking in long term parking, unpacking my computer continually to go through security, getting it swabbed for explosives, taking off my heels as they set off the alarm, drinking tea in the lounge, and all the delays. On the plus side, I refrained from drinking the luke warm chardonnay in the Qantas club tonight and browsed the book stall instead. Roll on the high speed train.

Rainy days

The last time it rained was in February and the time before that I can't remember. It was threatening it all day yesterday and last night I woke up to the beautiful sound of rain on my tin roof. I already had Miss I in bed with since she had wet the bed earlier and although I had bundled her wet sheets into the washing machine I couldn't be bothered making it again so she slid into bed with me. Then around midnight Miss S came in - she must have a sleep sensor that tells her sister is getting a treat she's not. Since my bed is not king size I left them to it and slipped into Miss S's bed which I secretly like as she has a mattress that sorts of rolls you around like you're on a boat and a beautiful red velvet quilt which is snuggly. Every now and then I'd wake up and hear the rain. I spent all morning out at another office at a meeting and decided to spend the rest of the day working from home. ha. So far, I have folded the laundry, made chocolate brownies, peeled potatoes for dinner, labelled some videos. I did, however, consider a knotty business problem while undertaking these tasks so I don't entirely consider them slacking off. The rain is not forecast to last longer than today but it's been a good respite from the drought. It makes me homesick for London. The sloppiest kind of romanticism I know, but I think of wet pavement on city streets and the bustle of people on the move. I'm feeling very out of place these days in my comfortable, provincial town.

Mistrust all enterprises that require new clothes

Alright, I had a fabulous time in Sydney but spending time with those sharp city gals has gone to my head and I bought a very expensive suit on Saturday. I'm ashamed to say it has a designer label and is the most expensive item of clothing I have bought ever. More than my wedding dress (which I now think is hideous but what can I say, I got married in a bad fashion year and didn't trust my taste or judgement). In my minimal defence, it is a classic and I will wear it with pleasure but I am already quaking at the thought of my credit card bill. I phoned the head hunter and told her I wasn't interested in the job. She was agreed that it was wrong for me and promised to keep her eyes open for other things. I also told her I thought her diamond ring was fabulous. She laughed when I said I thought it was unprofessional to comment on it in an interview but I thought she'd like the feedback. I forgot to mention that when I was packing to go to Sydney last week I found one of my new pearl earrings was missing. The girls had been playing with my jewellery the previous evening and I lost it. I mean, I completely lost it with them, ranting and raving and weeping at the loss of this beautiful thing. Miss I was crying too at my distress. I stopped back at the house after I had dropped them at school and turned out the whole drawer but still couldn't find it. I was thinking I would have to empty the vacuum cleaner on the weekend. That evening, Miss I called me as I was about to get on the plane to tell me she had found it. I was so happy. "You'll never guess, but it was on my bedroom floor, I don't know how it got there". I know exactly how it got there but I was so delighted she had found it that I just told her how happy she had made me. Saturday afternoon, I went to see Kill Bill 2 at last. It hasn't seemed to delight people as much as 1 but I really liked it. The action scenes are not as rich but the story is beautifully closed out. The lioness has rejoined her cub. Saturday evening was a Sopranos fest. Gosh, I love the pacing, and the scene where Tony kisses Carmella in the pool was incredibly erotic. I think I'm about 3 behind on the US showings and about 10 ahead on the Australian series. Sunday my girls came home around 9:30. We had a cosy day with some low stress shopping and hanging out. They made a chocolate cake with no supervision and, most surprisingly, cleared up after themselves. In the evening we had one of those tv dinners - Miss I had alphagetti and toast and Miss S and I had baked potatoes with cheese in them. It was all very comforting. Since I had another set of gum scraping today we had soup for dinner. This section of my mouth wasn't quite so painful. The peridontist has Far Side cartoons taped to the ceiling which is a surreal experience when he is probing in your gums with sharp implements. This week is shaping up high stress. I have to go to Sydney on Thursday and discover this evening that industrial action is planned for school for Thurs morning. My babysitter and step-son both have classes at university, their father is speaking at conference and I'm going to have to ask some big favours. I just about keep the routine together but the unexpected is hard to handle. Next week I have to be in Melbourne and Canberra at the same time on two days and I havent yet figured out how to manage it. The astral projection that sometimes features on Charmed should just about solve it.

Bright lights, big city

Just got back from Sydney. It was good to have had the big city buzz for a couple of days and some fun. Wednesday night we had dinner at Tabou in Surrey Hills. Good French brasserie food and some excellent champagne from Cassegrain. Yummy. I had beetroot marinated king salmon with celeriac remoulade which was divine then steak frites with bernaise sauce then the iles flottante and camomile tea. The service was slow and a bit inattentive but pleasant when you got their attention. I think the bread could have been better and the butter didn't have that beautiful sour creaminess of French butter. We had a shiraz as well but I only had a taste and I can't remember what it was. P had the rabbit galatine - she gave me a taste which was lovely but so rich. yummy. I only ever eat rabbit in restaurants since I am way intimidated to even think about how to begin to cook it. The first time I had it was with Anne at the Gary Rhodes restaurant on the embankment. Despite this greediness I still got back to the hotel in time to watch the L Word which seems to come on later and later. Still hooked. I was in Sydney for a training course which was being held in a meeting room in the Star City Casino hotel. I think it's odd to have to walk across the gaming floor to get to a business meeting. It was one of those events where you feel like a battery chicken by the end having had huge amounts of food pushed at you at every break. It was an interesting topic. The instructor had come over from the UK and was a complete nutter, a bit like Mr Bean on speed. I thought I'd have to leave in the first 30 minutes but we all got used to him and it was refreshing to spend time with someone who was so passionate about what they do. It was good to catch up with lots of people I hadn't seen for a while and get to know some new people. I had a pleasant flirtation with a couple of men I know and like a lot which was very satisfying to the ego. Last night we went to a dinner for 120 people at the Regal restaurant in Chinatown. I was apprehensive but the food turned out to be pretty good though the wine was vile. I saw my old boss who I adore and she was so lovely to me and told me that she would be at a conference in Melbourne next month that I'm going to so I hope we'll get longer to catch up there. We ended up in the hotel bar on the top floor with views over the harbour. I got into a lift with Kerry Packer and his minders. I can't imagine why he doesn't have his own lift but I was stunned at just how big he is and how craggy his face is. Funny, but he didn't immediately spot me as someone who would make an unparalleled contribution to his empire. I suppose being Australia's richest man he has plenty of choice. Despite the late night and drink being taken I felt great today and had lots of fun with the people I was working with. I've got lots of ideas for work next week and the prospect of watching some Sopranos on video tonight.

Does this excite you?

Yesterday the gum scraping treatment commenced. The lower right hand quarter of my gums were probed and scoured. As ever, the injection was the worst bit and it took hours to wear off. As a consequence my children got to eat chicken nuggets, mashed potatoes and peas for dinner as I couldn't bear the thought of eating. P brought the remains of her party food to work so I returned home with a large slice of chocolate cake for them to scoff. I got a new parcel of new season Sopranos and the Practice on tape from my friend. There were also some CDs which he had made for me in times past that made me sad since they reminded me of a time when we were hopeful that love could overcome all difficulties. I had my hair cut today which was pleasant since I caught up on all the gossip magazines including a great interview with Johnny Rotten and a piece on Katherine Moennig (my current favourite from the L Word) plus the usual gamut of frocks and divorces. This afternoon I trekked out to the airport to meet the headhunter to discuss this job. The interview was fine and we got on very well but she asked me "does this job excite you?". I can't imagine saying yes even if it were a dream job. Does this mean I am not cut out for this corporate cut and thrust? I mean, they pay me money and in return I look for opportunities to sell and deliver stuff that is good for our customers and turns a profit for the company. But does it excite me? Give me a break. Tomorrow evening I am off to Sydney for two days training. Tomorrow night is dinner in a hip establishment of my choice with my two good girlfriends. Now that excites me.

Reasons to be cheerful

I'm feeling up. Our favourite, Ruslana from the Ukraine, won the Eurovision Song Contest in her Xena-warrior princess outfit. We watched the heats on Friday and had huge fun scoffing, "what is she wearing?" etc. I was delighted to see it was no more sophisticated than it was 30 years ago. The rigours of reality tv and American idol-like shows have not impacted euro-pop one iota except, perhaps, the obligatory dancers. Apparently the Albanian dancers were so hopeless they wouldn't even let them perform. My least favourite entry was the Greek "heart throb" and the hopeless Swiss faux Hi-Five. I went to Pilates on Saturday morning and was amazed that so many people were talking about the wedding. Apparently exports have soared.

Danish media report that sales of flat screen televisions have soared prior to the wedding, while there has been an increased demand for Australian products including wine, cheese, Tim Tam biscuits and Vegemite.

I went to a meeting at the National Library on Friday and the staff had organised a Danish royal wedding morning tea at which they served danish pastries and salami and wore tiaras. Librarians are nutty. I had dragged some friends from work over there the day before since the Library has a great looking exhibition on recent acquisitions, including some Paspaley pearls. Alas, I had read the times wrong and it doesn't open until the 27th. Still we had a great lunch in their cafe (the Bookplate). Apparently, there is too be a big "Treasures of Australian Libraries" exhibition next year, as a follow up to their terrific Treasures of the Worlds' Libraries exhibit in 2001. Miss S had asked to stay overnight at her friend's house on Saturday but as this friend has a very unstructured household and as Miss S had been complaining of tiredness all week, I said no as I wanted her to catch up on sleep and homework. She complained but I think she was just going through the motions as it has been really good to just hang out together in a gentle way. Today we went to Kingston market. Both children had about $15 in accumulated pocket money and money they had extracted from visiting adults. Miss I spends her with confidence and it is all gone within 20 minutes. And she's happy with her stash of goodies, a piece of fudge, a slimy rubber lizard, a small glas vial with a cork stopper and a cat painted on it (for potions, she tells me). Miss S, on the other hand, agonises over spending anything. We look at all the stalls once. We linger over a few things. We look at shell necklaces in detail. We come back again and finally she parts with her money. It's not that she regrets what she buys, she just finds it really hard to come to a decision. This is part of everything she does. I'm trying to see some positive side in it. I'm sure she is mentally weighing up options and evaluating, but it seems to pain her to come to a conclusion. I bought a loaf of turkish bread, some dill pesto, a dozen free range eggs, some smoked trout pate from Cowra and some dried orange pieces dipped in dark chocolate. This afternoon we went with our friend David to see Les Triplets de Belleville. I liked it, I thought it was quirky and the animation is interesting but the kids struggled a bit to sustain interest especially in some of the more surreal scene. They loved the ending though, don't mess with old ladies, said Miss S. Tonight, Miss S cooked a fabulous dinner from this month's ABC delicious from a recipe from becco restaurant in Melbourne. It was spaghettini with tomatoes and olives. Soften 3 cloves of garlic in EV olive oil for a minute(she used my estate extra virgin which I usually keep for salad dressing but I have to say it tasted fab in this), add about 250g of cherry tomatoes chopped in half with as many black olives as suit your taste and cook over medium heat for 2 mins, add 1 tbs of pesto and a handful of chooped parsley and toss over the drained spaghettini (use some of the pasta water to thin the sauce out if it needs it). Grate black pepper on and serve with parmesan cheese. It tastes great with the thinner spaghettini. Then we had raspberry clafoutis and Miss I had apple crumble. Then we watched some of Love Actually on a dvd their father got in China which is minus the porn star scenes which makes it easy for child viewing.

Princess Perfect

Last night the L Word was delayed by 15 minutes by an excrutiating documentary on Mary Donaldson, the soon-to-be Danish princess. It was quite bizarre to see this confident woman in her 30s talking such utter drivel with an odd hybrid Australian/Danish accent. I recall (faintly, of course) the stir in the late 60s/early 70s (?) when the first documentary on the British royal family was shown and I can't say the degree of insight has developed much since then. I kept thinking even her hair looked like Princess Anne's. Is there a standard back-combed bouffy hair do that one has to sport to be a successful royal? I can't get over how much she looks like Diana Rigg in her Avengers days. Now Mary D would look so much better in a black leather cat suit than the sensible tweeds she's been sporting recently. So my lovely, lovely Claire has got herself a paid job with Amnesty in Geneva. This girl is amazing, smart, hard-working, loving and it's great to see she's turned an internship into some paid work. I've promised the girls that we'll go to Europe next year and visiting Claire in Geneva, my sister in Spain and Claire's Accessories in London (curse you, Anne) are their top three priorities. Today when I got home from work I supervised two girls for shower/bath/hairwashing; cooked dinner - lasagne made earlier in the week, salad, roasted asparagus; emptied dishwasher; loaded dishwasher; did two loads of washing; ironed (while watching Charmed); cleaned the spare bathroom; went off at Miss I on the state of her bedroom; fed the cats; vacuumed the hallway. Ask a busy woman.... Read Lisa. She's so thoughtful about the world around her and her part in it and a fabulous washing line project. I'm in as soon as I get my camera back.

Extremely very unique

High stress day in the office with a sub-contractor trying to tell me they had a "very unique" methodology - either it's unique or it ain't, there is no modification there. Their mangling of language was only the last of a list of complaints I have about them. Then I was making tea for my best pal, P, who is even more stressed out with a proposal she is writing. First I knocked over my tea in the kitchen drenching the toasted sandwich maker that was on the counter. In clearing that up, I knocked over the second cup of tea all down the front of my skirt. Fortunately I was wearing knee length boots and did not scald my legs. Good things that happened: My boss reduced my quota for the year by $2m so I have a faint chance of making my target - and by extension, making some money - this year. I had cancelled my interview with the headhunter because I was too busy to go to Sydney tomorrow and she offered to fly to Canberra to meet me. I ate a yummy pecan pie at my desk. I got invited to a interesting looking conference in Melbourne next month. I got invited to meet a senior company executive. Now I suspect this latter meeting is less the "Anyresemblance, we in head office in northamericaland have been following your progress with interest and would like to invite you to take up well paid and fascinating job in our head office with many stock options, flexible work hours and immense public approbation" and be more like joining the crowd for the Pope's Easter mass. Or the time my dad got invited to the Queen's garden party at Holyroodhouse in Edinburgh. This, at a time when single daughters over the age of 18 were also on the invite list. We trooped off in our best frocks to rubber neck along with many hundreds of other good souls of Scotland while talent spotters roamed the crowds to pick out the very few who were allowed the other side of the rope fence to meet Queeny and her family. I digress. Dinner tonight was sausages, baked beans and mashed potatoes - and bloody delicious it was too on a cold night. It's cold but so bloody dry my skin is shrivelling up and my throat is all scratchy. No rain for eons and eons. I've been listening to Ian Carmichael as Lord Peter Wimsey in a series of BBC radio dramatisations from the early 70s. I'm obsessed with clubland heroes at the moment but I adore Lord Peter Wimsey. I read one commentator sniffily observe that Dorothy L Sayers depiction of Lord Peter was a lesbian view of the perfect man. Well, that makes dykes of us all since I think Lord Peter epitomises that 30s glamour. Under normal circumstances I loathe biographies but have made exceptions for the Mitford sisters, Dorothy L Sayers and Elizabeth David which seems to indicate that my taste runs to eccentric, bossy, upper middle class English women. Like I aspire to be really.