I like baking. There is something satisfying about the process of it all. Finding the recipe, ensuring the ingredients are on hand and preparing for the task. Firstly I get all the ingredients out and then put the correct measurements in order in front of me before replacing the packets etc back in the pantry. I line the tin with baking paper, turn on the oven and put on my apron before I start mixing. That whole action which is finished when I turn out the cake onto a wire rack to cool is very soothing.
Very soothing until I decided to bake Wagon Wheels last night. I found the recipe in this month's Women's Weekly and thought to myself that I could do that. I baked the biscuits in perfect size and formation. But the whole thing went pear shaped when the melted marshmallow came in contact with the jammy top biscuit. The mallow oozed out of the sides of the biscuit and then when I tried to trim it back it seemed to have the consistency of super glue combined with the stretch of mozzarella cheese. There was pink and white marshmallow on scissors, knives, spoons, on my shirt and in my hair. Oh, and when it came to smothering the whole sticky biscuit in melted dark chocolate I had sticky mallow and chocolate on both hands, the handle of the knife I was using, in my hair again, on the stove and even, somehow, on the front of the dishwasher. Even today I noticed a big blob of chocolate on the knobs of the stove. Hmmm.
Anyway, they may have looked a bit daggy but they were apparently very tasty! I have attached a picture for your interest - and a photo of how messy the kitchen gets whilst I am cooking. And yes, that is mashed potato and sausages cooking away there. I did tidy the kitchen once finished.
Oh, and by the way, the whole thing took me 3.5 hours to make 16 biscuits!!!
I intend to bake them again - I know where I went wrong so next time they will be almost perfect.
I just do not get it. Well, trouble is I do get it. Once a month actually. Today woke up late after a horrible nights sleep. Had an appointment at the hairdressers at 9.00 am and woke up at 8.40 am after K had just come back from a 46 km bike ride. He said to me it was 7.40 am so I lay in bed for 10 minutes before he said it was actually now 8.50 am and I then had to leap out of bed, jump in the shower, ring the hairdresser, put on the teeniest amount of make-up and then jump in the car and rush to be sitting in the chair at the hairdressers at 9.15am. T, my gorgeous hairdresser, had a cup of coffee waiting for me. When I looked in the mirror whilst she was doing my hair I still had those puffy early morning eyes - oh well.
Anyway, is now 3.00 pm and I am feeling marginally better but with lovely hair at least. I am bloated, puffy, teary and S and K are being very quiet around me. K even cleaned up the vomit that my hairy dog Angus did in the lounge room as I could not handle it.
On a more depressing note, I have hit 60kgs and feel like a fat toad. Also realise that jogging has made my legs and arse bigger which is like my worst nightmare and I am unsure what to do. My jeans feel a bit tight and I am in panic mode that I may be starting to look FAT. Have to be realistic here though. 175 cm tall, 60kg and size 10 does not really constitute fat does it? Need to keep that thought in my head to avoid being totally depressed.
Wish my period would arrive so I can dump at least one kg of fluid and feel better.
Made my bed at least today. And read The Age newspaper. It is raining outside quite heavily and I intend to go for a walk soon to get some fresh air.
After the hairdressers today I went for a walk to look in the shops. Anyway, looked at all the nice clothes and such and had this rather unpleasant realisation. Despite losing weight and being able to fit into any clothes there is something kind of shitting me. After a number of years of being a bit chumpy (great word) and finally being back to pre-motherhood size and less there is a bit of a sting in the pleasure I get out of it. I am a bit old to wear lots of the clothes I like. And that is not a nice thought. Some of the stuff looks okay on, but not quite right. There is a moment of truth when you look in the mirror wearing a great pair of skinny jeans, Diesel T-shirt and Wrangler jacket and realise it would be so much better on someone twenty years younger. I often see women just not realising that and looking a bit like old tarts and I refuse to go down that track. Still, I did look good in the jeans and needed no wire coat hanger to do up the zip.
Having said that I can confidently say that Sportscraft, Trent Nathan, Anthea Crawford and Perri Cutten will never grace my wardrobe. That would be too depressing to join the "smart" looking fifty plus brigade who embrace middle age so well.
I do bang on a bit about the being older thing, but it is kind of there like some sort of spectre luring me into it's big, grey net.
Having second thoughts about Botox. Would rather just stay healthy and spend more money of little jars of big promises.
Better go and do something. Not sure what, but should do it anyway.
Look, just look at this wonderful weather we have been having over the past two weeks. Easter was so delightful. Sunny and trancelike each day drifted and I enjoyed them all. It was as though a force greater than I said "Linda, we think you deserve some nice weather".
Melbourne has the most glorious weather in Autumn. This year maybe a bit warmer and maybe a bit drier, but still that warm air, lovely breeze and silent sun shining down.
Friday I went out for lunch with my bosses mother and her friends - all of whom I have met previously. We went to Brighton Baths upstairs restaurant and my choice of food was fish or fish which was nice enough. However, the whole place was full of old women. Now, by old women I mean those close about sixty plus. And that is fine also. But I do have to say, there is something rather unpleasant about looking into the window of my future. Fine and wrinkled skin, hair loaded with hairspray, crepey eyes, wobbly neck, lipstick bleed, non-blended foundation, clumping mascara and elastic waist pants and skirts - and they were the well dressed ones! I don't mind that THEY look like that but the thing is that I do NOT want to look like that. Have to say though, that the gals at my table were very well put out indeed. They seem to have a good handle on getting on in years.
But, I hate to say this, I have now been thinking that when the time comes around will I be tempted to use a bit of Botox to hold back the creeping signs of aging? This morning I looked at my naked face using a magnified mirror and direct sunlight. I felt a bit sad when I noticed the pigmentation, the lines, the sag (hate that word) which has started and wondered if some intervention was on the cards. Not to look younger as such, just to look fresher perhaps. Maybe not Botox. Maybe, just maybe, I need to buy higher priced cosemetics that promise me more. I think I need to upgrade my paints so to speak. I would never have surgery (ouch and $$) since it always looks weird. Just wanna look youngish or avoid looking oldish.
Anyway, no matter. After I put my make-up on and did my hair I looked fine and realised right now I need not do much more.
I have been jogging more lately. Five kms every second night. I feel a bit sore in my neck of all places today and had to stretch a lot to ease the discomfort and tightness. Tonight I will walk and then tomorrow I may do a gym session just to give my legs a break.
I will blab more about jogging later. Right now I have noticed that the new string on the clothesline has busted and all my washing is on the grass and I bet that K has not done poo patrol!!
PS, went shopping yesterday and bought the most lovely skirt and scarf. I cannot wait for cooler weather so I can wear them both together.
Not much to report in the boring life of Linda. S got his new braces today and some of his nonchalance about it all has disappeared now that his teeth are aching rather horribly. And to top it all off, he had to have his hair cut today. T, my darling hairdresser, cut his hair in the most gorgeous way that it made my heart ached with seeing this grown up face looking at me. On the way home in the car he whinged and whined about the pain of it all and the misery of his life and is now lying on the couch with a friend watching TV. He got a big dose of Panadol to soothe his moany mouth.
The other night I had a great success in the fitness department. I jogged 5kms in 30 minutes and felt fantastic. Next night was about 3km to the gym, workout and the 3km back. I am planning to jog tonight but I have the most awful sore throat and chest ache that I may be a bit hopeful to jog just part of the way.
Finally bought a new bike helmet - pink and grey, incredibly ugly and it cost a whopping $70 which I suppose is just par for the course. I have it in the wardrobe as I refuse to allow it to sit in the garage and get dusty in between uses. K has finished my bike and I am just waiting for a spare moment to use it. I thought about going to work tomorrow but kind of think I will not bother once I wake up. It would be good to pedal in on quiet roads.
What now for the rest of the afternoon? The lure of housework beckons my obligatory side but the delight of reading lures my mind - hmmm, which will it be???
I tell you what it will be for sure - fucking food shopping as there is not much in my cupboards. And I will trudge off to nasty Coles Supermarket Bentleigh (understaffed and overpriced) where I will trail around like a snail with hundreds of other people who are there in record numbers as it is Easter and obviously a FAMINE is about to happen and they have to stock up on HUGE amounts of food.
Have about decided on a car. Not the HondeCRV as I kind of thought that was just not really necessary to drive such a lump of a car. The Honda Jazz is kind of ideal. I really, really want the yellow one. I just love yellow and the car lends itself to that colour so well. Plus the choice is limited to white (boring), silver (ho hum), light purple (ah, no thanks), dark purple (no way), black (mmm, bit hot in the sun) and then bright and gorgeous and sparkly yellow (yes please). I think they also have a bright blue which I hate. All those bright blue cars are yucky.
Anyway, that is today - who knows what thoughts will be in my head next week.
Break over Easter is going to be low key and catch up time with friends and family.
And the Easter Rabbit visiting our house of course!
I have received one of the items from Ebay that I recently purchased and here are some pictures. Britains Floral was a range of very small and interesting plastic ware that allowed children to build their own little garden paradise. It came out mostly in the 1960's and through to the 1970's. It is so detailed, right down to using a small tool to push the plastic flower and plants into the bases supplied. You even have to pop the little plastic flowers onto the stalks. It then becomes a little microcosm of a small patch of green. The detail is superb and when it is set up it is so fascinating to look at. If you look closely at one of the pictures, you can see the little rabbits!
I first saw it at my friends place when I was about six. Not a lot of it, just the greenhouse and a few bits and pieces. Many years later, after her mother died, it was thrown out during a household rubbish collection and my own mummy picked it up and I played with it and kept it. When I moved out of home it was thrown away much to my disappointment. For years I wondered where I could get it and it was by chance that I mentioned it to a toy collector and he said "oh yeah, that would be Britains Florals". For the next four years or so I looked at it on Ebay and finally splashed out and bought this lot for $325.00 which is rather pricey but really worth it.
The other night I spent about one and a half hours playing with it and setting it up in my bedroom on the desk. S keeps going in a looking at it. He says it is like looking into another world. I would like to buy more as there is a lot more to get, but will wait a while and enjoy my new addition.
I like that when this toy was made, it still encouraged a child to spend time creating a scene and using their imagination. These days so many of the toys are just "there" and not helping a child reach into their minds and get into hidden corners to find a way of making something out of nothing.