chasing summer...

It has been unseasonably wet these past few weeks, with a seemingly unending curtain of rain and an oppressive humidity that is not unlike living inside a butterfly house. Summer hasn't really arrived, at least in any recognisable form. Instead of waiting around for beach weather, this week we decided to take matters into our own hands. We have been attempting to dress the part, go to the beach despite the clouds and cool down with home-made ice-cream.

Here is the recipe for Pina Colada ice-cream that we made (as always from the ice-cream bible - The Perfect Scoop). It isn't technically ice-cream seeing as it is dairy free, and is more correctly termed a 'sherbet'. Whatever, it tastes pretty good to me - and vegans don't have to miss out!

4 cups pureed pineapple

200g sugar

250ml Thai coconut milk

1 tablespoon dark rum

1 teaspoon freshly squeezed lime juice

Blend all ingredients together until smooth. Chill mixture thoroughly and then freeze it in your ice-cream maker according to the manufacturers instructions.

Visitors...

Last week some friends of ours came to visit with their sweet little baby girl. I snapped a couple of quick shots before they went home, though I'm wishing I took the time to seek out a nicer background and better lighting (all the wood panelling in my house is seriously like some kind of cheap 1970s log cabin fantasy). I'm pretty sure they weren't expecting me to plaster these shots all over my blog but Elodie is pretty dang cute and I couldn't help myself!! Thanks for being good sports!

Post-party depression...

I'm feeling pretty flat at the moment. The last of our the big 'festivus' events are over with part two of the wedding last saturday (you can read about part one here) and now our social calendar is pretty empty for the next couple of months. I had a long list of jobs I had been putting off until after the wedding (clean out the fridge, reunite the spice girls, broker peace in the middle east - you know that kind of thing) and now that 'after the wedding' is finally here I really don't feel like I have the energy or motivation to tackle any of it. I feel very much like Steve Martin in father of the Bride sitting amongst the rubble and wondering what just happened.

The wedding was really lovely. I didn't take any pictures (not even one) but honestly, as those of you with small children will know, trying to get ready for a wedding with little ones is an extreme sport in itself. At any given moment it is entirely possible that someone will choke on a bobby pin, brand themselves with the straightening iron or paint themselves with mascara. My better half left early to help drop off the wedding cake so I was flying solo, and I have to admit there was a point where I was trying to do my hair while two certain little people screamed non stop and pulled at my legs and dress and I felt like putting everyone into bed and not going! Luckily there was a fantastic professional photographer there and you can check out some more pics over at her blog.

There were lots of little handmade touches (which as you know really floats my boat). My favourite of which would have to be the bouquet - made from old pages of a book (I'm hoping a romantic novel) - L.O.V.E.! The bunting (all 40 meters of it), despite various fits of despondency on my part along the way, looked rather pretty in the end, even if I do say so myself. I assembled it from a rainbow of vintage linens I sourced on etsy… one of the guests even told me she spotted her favourite sheet from the 70s amongst the prints, I'm always happy to inspire a little nostalgia!

I had bought myself a cute little vintage 1960s dress which I was excited to debut but sadly it was a casualty of the evening. I went home mid wedding to pop the kids to bed (don't worry you don't need to call child services there was a sitter there!) and Turi managed to rip open the front of my dress while I was lifting him into his cot. Thankfully I had a spare dress in my wardrobe so I just got changed and it wasn't too much of a drama. Will have to tackle the dress repair when I am over my post-party depression.

12 drummers drumming...

You have to hand it to the Catholics. Just when we're all feeling a bit down about Christmas being over they chuck us another feast day - the Epiphany. For those of you non-Christian folk this is when we celebrate the three wise men (shall we call them kings?) visiting baby Jesus. We celebrate in traditional English style, taking down all our Christmas decorations and eating twelfth night cake. Twelfth night cake is basically a fruit cake, with a dried bean baked inside. If you find the bean it means you get to be king for the day. I used this recipe, and then totally veered from tradition and stuck a deer and christmas tree on the top because it looked a little bleak (where do I find three kings cake toppers??). According to wikipedia you can also add a host of other items - 'Whoever finds the clove is the villain, the twig, the fool, and the rag, the tart.' I must try this next year, though I'm a bit freaked by the concept of putting a twig in the cake… and a rag may just be taking it a little too far.

I think perhaps Turi may be the most depressed of all of us by the conclusion of the Christmas season. Every morning he has been joyfully bringing me his Santa hat, with an enormous grin on his face, to wear while he eats his breakfast. Now it is packed away he is going to have to find himself a new accessory to wear while he eats his weetbix.

apart

Fresh from reading this post, I decided it was about time I bit the bullet and finally put the kids in together to share a room. Neither of the kids are sleeping particularly well at the moment so frankly I thought it couldn't get any worse. So tonight we dragged Minty's bed into Turi's room and popped them both in for sleepy time. Things appeared to be going remarkably well and after a short 10 minute settling period all was quiet and I shut the door leaving them to it.

I was feeling very optimistic about the whole thing as a sense of peace and calm appeared to descend upon the house. But just as I settled down on the lounge with a copy of 'Monument' magazine an ungodly scream was heard from the bedroom. I ran to investigate and discovered Minty on the floor with blood pouring from her mouth. After a quick survey of the crime scene it would appear that Minty pulled the floor lamp over to Turi's cot and attempted to climb it in order to 'join him'. It seems that some time during the ascent she slipped and smashed her mouth into the edge of the cot. Over an hour, and a lot of tears later I had the two children settled once again… in their own rooms. I think we'll leave our two mountain goats in their own rooms at least for one more night.

These photos are of Minty decorating her own mug. This was a fabulous gift that Minty got for Christmas. The kit came with a mug, special crayons and some black and white pictures that could be transferred onto the mug for colouring. After decorating you can make the image permanent by filling the mug with water and microwaving (afterwards the colours are a lot more vibrant). Mint had lots of fun with this - note the concentrated tongue circling! Thanks Simon and Katya!

in which I shop for a new face...

Images clockwise from top: found here, here and here
I spent today shopping for new glasses. Such a crucial choice... almost like shopping for a new face. It doesn't help that they cost a small fortune ($365 just for the lenses - eek!). Some people seem to manage to totally rock their glasses as the ultimate accessory (like the cat!). Here's hoping my purchase is as successful as these...

In which I am assaulted and overly sentimental...

I wrote this yesterday shortly before I was hit over the back of the head with a wooden rainmaker by a certain small person who didn't want to have their eczema cream put on. As I was sitting on the couch with an ice-pack on my head ringing in the new year I was certainly neither happy nor content, so it felt a little disingenuous to post this. But after a good nights sleep and a little perspective it's feeling a little more like the truth again...

across the festive season I've been in quite a few social situations where I've been asked 'what's new with you?', 'so what are you doing with yourself now?' etc. I flounder around trying to come up with some kind of exciting and interesting synopsis of my life to try and stimulate the conversation but the truth is there isn't anything big or boldly interesting that's happened to me in 2010. I don't have a glamourous job, I haven't joined the peace corp, I haven't recently trekked around Nepal or bought a fancy apartment at Docklands. There isn't anything to write into the old collegians about or for my mum to brag about to her friends.

But my hard won wisdom for this year is that most of life happens in the inbetween moments - brushing your teeth, eating your weetbix, hanging out the washing, not in the large sweeping brush strokes we tell people we meet at parties. I can honestly say I'm happier in the 'in between' than I've ever been at any other time in my life. I'm not constantly wishing I was living somewhere else, doing something else, in a better job, dreading next week, the next day or the next hour. Sure there are things about my life I'd like to change but when the chips come down and it's me alone at the end of the night with my toothbrush I'm absolutely content. I go to bed happy with a full heart and if my life never holds anything but this, that will be enough.

Happy New Year everyone! I hope 2011 is a great year.