Green Ink

you've got mail!

2011-09-20T12:49:00.000+01:00

Isn't this so very, very true? :)

It's been a while - how have you all been? I finished my book last month (well, first draft of it anyway!). We're moving on Saturday. And I mostly blog over here now. Come and say hi!

exactly

2011-07-24T13:12:00.000+01:00

source

so......

2011-07-22T15:42:00.001+01:00

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A few years ago I went to a high school about an hour out of London to talk to the kids about writing. It was lots of fun. This is a poem I shared with them. I'd forgotten how good, and true, it is. I thought it might be some nice Friday reading for you.

so you want to be a writer?
A poem by Charles Bukowski

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.

if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

~~~~~~~~

PS: Rachel Connor's post on behind the scenes at an Arvon course has made me terribly nostalgic and longing to go on another course! I have a retreat planned for August though. More on that soon. Happy weekend all xx

i suddenly feel like

2011-07-21T13:02:00.000+01:00

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dream

2011-07-20T12:40:00.000+01:00

Thank you Amelia :)

When was the last time you gave yourself permission to just dream in the truest sense of the word?

tuesday treasures

2011-07-12T00:26:00.002+01:00

This recipe book belonged to my Nan. She had many, many cookbooks, as my mother does, and as I now do. But I didn't have this one.

My mum brought it over to the UK last year when she and Dad came over for the wedding. I had originally wanted the Beautiful Biscuits one, but someone else got that one of Nan's....Mum ended up giving me her copy for my birthday this year...but this one, Mum told me, was one of Nan's favourites. She was very fond of sweet things and as I flicked through the pages I recognised many of her much loved signature desserts and cakes. Nan had a sweet tooth, no doubt about it. Perhaps it's where my own appreciation for desserts comes from.

As I turned page after page, suddenly a faded, lined piece of notepaper fell out from between them. It was her handwriting.

This is Nan's recipe for Anzac biscuits, a much loved childhood favourite of mine. I love them slightly undercooked and chewy. Probably because I loved eating the leftover mixture whenever Nan or Mum used to make them.

I only have a few keepsakes of Nan - a bangle she bought me when I was twelve; a tiny jewellery box that belonged to her; photographs; birthday cards she sent me in the last few years of her life. But now I have this too and it's as precious to me as anything else could be. It reminds me of the woman she was and how she kept us well supplied with her homemade cakes and biscuits all throughout our school years, and our birthday cakes were always entrusted to her, and rightly so, they were usually masterpieces with only a few crumbs left to tell the tale.

I always loved her handwriting too; ornate copperplate handwriting that no one does any more. It was a dying art even when I was learning to write, the best part of thirty years ago.

Always, when I think of my grandmother, I think of her floral perfume; the smell of freshly pressed clothes; steaming mugs of black tea; and a slice or two of a freshly baked sweet old fashioned favourite.

What's your Tuesday Treasure this week?

PS: And here's the Anzac biscuit recipe :)

1 cup rolled oats

1/2 cup self raising flour

1/2 cup plain flour

3/4 cup coconut

3/4 cup sugar (brown, raw or white)

1/2 teaspoon bicarb soda

2 tablespoons boiling water

125g butter, melted

2 tablespoons golden syrup

Mix all dry ingredients. Dissolve bicarb soda in boiling water and add to melted butter and golden syrup. Add to dry ingredients and mix well. Place in teaspoonfuls on a greased tray or press into a greased tin and cut into squares while still hot. Bake in a moderately slow oven (160 C, 325 F) for 15 minutes.

For "nutties", Nan suggested adding 30g crushed nuts to the mixture. For oatmeal raisin cookies, add 30g sultanas or raisins. For muesli biscuits, omit the oats and add 1 cup muesli. She wrote "delicious" at the end, but spelled it "delecious" :) Oh, I miss her.

shelf esteem

2011-07-11T13:03:00.000+01:00

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source

I love book shelves. I clearly do not have enough of them :)

tuesday treasures

2011-07-05T18:54:00.001+01:00

This week's Tuesday treasure is:

My very first job was working at homewares store in Hobart. In the three years I worked there I ended up with an enormous Spode collection, some very fine cookware and intimate knowledge of knife sharpening and Wedgwood china patterns; all of which I'm sure was not usual in a girl of nineteen.

I remember a slow Sunday, unpacking a recent delivery, checking the contents against an invoice and then pricing them and putting them on the shelves. I unwrapped this beautiful mug and as the last of the packing paper fell away, the mug promptly split into two neat halves in my hand. It was such a shock, and I was horrified! It was so beautiful and I was worried I'd broken it, but my colleague reassured me that with such a clean break it had probably happened in transit on the way down from the mainland. We put it on the "write off" sheet and continued. I asked what would happen to the pieces and was told they would just be chucked away. I was so sad at the thought. I am always full of intentions for creative projects (ask Tom about the time I brought a door home), and had visions of making something arty with the pieces, so I asked if I could have them. The manager said yes, so they were wrapped in a piece of tissue and tucked into my bag, ready for a salvage operation at day's end.

When I got home, having abandoned the idea of a creative project with the pieces (again, ask Tom about the time I brought a door home!) I just went to my Dad's shed and glued them back together with superglue. There was a slight chip at the top, just missing the iris. I figured I'd see if it was watertight once the glue had dried.

You can see the crack!

Once it was established it was watertight, and cleaned to within an inch of it's life to wash away anything toxic, it was my favourite mug :)

A good five years later, the repairs were still intact and I took it to Melbourne with me, where I used to make T2 herbal tissanes and drink them on my porch, looking around the garden. I think the smell of dried lemongrass will always make me think of the first nine months in that city, discovering new places and people, having my senses reawakened.

When I packed up my belongings about a year later to move to the UK, the mug for some reason was placed in one of the boxes. I don't know why but I couldn't bear to leave it behind. Somehow it symbolised the years it had accompanied me through my life so far: a flawed but beautiful thing, and with the right binding to put it back together it had been made whole and useful and beautiful again.

By the time I was reunited with my boxes a few months later I was surprised to see it. I had forgotten I'd packed it. I suppose at the time I was only thinking about essentials. What did I need? Books, that was a given. Warm clothes, for England was a cold country. A teapot. A mug to drink tea with. That was about it.

I remember my first flat in London, my room on the ground floor of a dilapidated house in Clapham, with the fireplace in it. I lined up all my books on the mantlepiece, and my mug went next to them. I remember nights when I'd stay up late writing well into the night, only interrupted by hasty suppers of hummous and pitta bread, or an apple and a triangle of camembert, and always followed by a hot chocolate made in my mug. I'd put a shot of Baileys in if I was feeling indulgent.

Four years and three flats later, it's still in my cupboard.

Today I made a chai latte in it:

Things that are broken can sometimes be put back together, and they are all the more beautiful because of the cracks, the life marks. That's where the stories are.

You can always pick up the pieces and start again.

What is your Tuesday Treasure? Do join in :)

if you have to be sure

2011-06-30T13:02:00.000+01:00

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One of my favourite poems, introduced to me by the lovely Marie:

Berryman
by W.S. Merwin

I will tell you what he told me
in the years just after the war
as we then called
the second world war

don't lose your arrogance yet he said
you can do that when you're older
lose it too soon and you may
merely replace it with vanity

just one time he suggested
changing the usual order
of the same words in a line of verse
why point out a thing twice

he suggested I pray to the Muse
get down on my knees and pray
right there in the corner and he
said he meant it literally

it was in the days before the beard
and the drink but he was deep
in tides of his own through which he sailed
chin sideways and head tilted like a tacking sloop

he was far older than the dates allowed for
much older than I was he was in his thirties
he snapped down his nose with an accent
I think he had affected in England

as for publishing he advised me
to paper my wall with rejection slips
his lips and the bones of his long fingers trembled
with the vehemence of his views about poetry

he said the great presence
that permitted everything and transmuted it
in poetry was passion
passion was genius and he praised movement and invention

I had hardly begun to read
I asked how can you ever be sure
that what you write is really
any good at all and he said you can't

you can't you can never be sure
you die without knowing
whether anything you wrote was any good
if you have to be sure don't write

tuesday treasures

2011-06-28T20:38:00.005+01:00

found via Pinterest, original source Mrs Amber Apple

"Happy thou art not; For what thou hast not, still thou strivest to get, And what thou hast, forget'st." -William Shakespeare from Measure for Measure

I thought I'd try something new on here.

Every Tuesday, I'm going to put up a photograph (or several!) of an object in my home that I treasure. I will tell you the story behind it. In doing so, I'm hoping that I'll not only get myself posting on here a bit more often (rather than every few months as has been the pattern so far in 2011!) but also an exercise in gratitude and in common sense. I already have plenty and do not need to wander the King's Road or Oxford Street like a homing pigeon every weekend, buying things I don't need. I am trying to save at the moment too, but regardless of how much money I have I don't need to go out and buy things I don't need when I have so much already. Many years ago when I was at the beginning of my health and fitness journey, before I put anything in my mouth I would say to myself, "do I really need this right now?" and often the answer would be no. So I'm putting that into practice again.

Anyway, on to Tuesday Treasures. There are so many things in my home that I love to look at and be reminded of the place I got it, or the person who gave it to me. My living room and bedroom are a kaleidescope of memories. Scents and dust do not disturb them. Age does not weary them.

Years ago when I was packing up my belongings in Melbourne, I remember being so bone weary and almost crying with frustration having to deal with all this...stuff. Some of it I didn't even know why I had. Just being desperate to escape the situation I had been in the year before, I had flung things into boxes and thought I'd sort it out later. I didn't even know what was in half of them. I ended up giving things away, selling things on eBay, leaving things on the street for people to help themselves to if they wished. My boxes that I shipped to England had mostly books in them. My favourite mug (I'll show it to you next week). A teapot. Photographs. Very little else.

If you've ever left your country and don't know when, or if, you'll be back, you'll know how strange it feels; like you're at a party and a funeral all at the same time. One thing I resolved to myself during that time was that I would never allow myself to be weighed down by possessions ever again. I would only have things around me that were useful or that meant something to me. Everything else had to serve its purpose and then be passed on. I've mostly lived like that for the past four years, and have accumulated many treasures in that time that I would be loathe to part with, but slowly the clutter, the unnecessary, the "why do I have this?" element is creeping back. It's time for a clean out.

So without further ago, today's treasure is this:

It's a little tin that once held a single chocolate.

Last year, one of my dearest friends, who I have known since we were seven, flew over to London for my wedding. She also went over to Berlin to see her aunty who lives there, and when she came back, she gave me this.

The chocolate was divine. I remember it was like a truffle, crusted with tiny sugar crystals. Unlike every other chocolate I've eaten, this one left a memento behind.

I keep the tin on my dresser. Looking at it always makes me think of last September, the wedding, and her being here. And inside I keep.....another treasure....

These are the earrings I wore on my wedding day. My mum and dad bought them for me and they are my favourite. They are the little black dress of earrings. They make any outfit, even just a white t shirt and jeans, look amazing. I love that I can wear them with anything; their gentle weight and glittering edges that catch the sunlight remind me of that happy, happy day.

With some big changes possibly ahead of me, I'm finding comfort in the little things. Cliches are cliches for a reason :)

What's your Tuesday Treasure?

Please do join in on your own blogs - leave a link in the comments so we can check your treasure out! I'll try and get one of those widget thingys working on here too.

Update: result! Widget link thingy below. Oh, and I just remembered it might be Wednesday where you are by now :P

india, part 1

2011-06-24T17:02:00.002+01:00

Friends, I finally feel able to breathe.

Today I made myself a pot of the Tulsi Ginger tea I bought in India. Allow me to pour you a virtual cup:

So, let's sit here together, in my rain splattered courtyard garden, our hands cupped around our mugs of spicy warm tea, and I'll tell you all about my trip to India. It was only last month, but it feels....well, it's July next week, need I say more?

Would you like a piece of chocolate cake too?

Sorry, I couldn't wait! How rude of me :)

Watching the rain fall down here, it amazes me that last month I was in a magical place where my clothes were damp with sweat rather than rain. My bones are aching for the warmth.

Oh, India! Where do I start?

I had only a week in this enchanting, haunting and intense place; it was a constant assault on the senses. To anyone going to India, I would say "believe everything you've heard, and then forget it". In many ways it was exactly what I thought it would be, and yet it challenged and surpassed every expectation.

My India journey began when I travelled with colleagues to the city of Hyderabad. I'd say Hyderabad is the Canberra of India - quite an important city for business and some rather lovely sights and things to do.....and lots of roundabouts :)

Walking outside the airport I was immediately hit with the overpowering, bone drenching heat. The sky sparkled. The air smelled of spices, cooking oil and dust. There was a McDonalds outside the airport, advertising the delights of McAloo. I wasn't tempted!

Our hotel had arranged a taxi to collect us - a sign saying "Mr Philippa Moore" greeted me as I walked outside! We rolled out of the airport and on to the highway towards the city. Initially it looked like any other highway, just with tropical looking trees and shrubs flowering on the sides of the road, and women in jewel coloured sarees sweeping the verges with long handbrushes.

The highway eventually morphed into a smaller road that led into the city. The buildings were dilapidated but fully functioning - there were sweet shops, wine shops, barbers, welders and other merchants whose speciality wasn't obvious (!) - alongside shanty towns of corrugated iron and bright blue tarp sheets. There were cows with giant curved horns being led down the side of the road, people carrying baskets on their heads, digging in the dirt, tending fires, or smashing bricks neatly. Herds of goats nosed around in the neat piles of garbage. Women in bright sarees sat in a neat line for the bus. And then some temples came into view, painted the most incredible candy pinks, greens, purples, blues and yellows; their pillars, doors and windows adorned with garlands of flowers, wisps of incense smoke drifting in the air, and statues of gods and goddesses smiling broadly outwards.

The road snaked in between what the taxi driver told us was Old and New Hyderabad - more colonial looking sandstone buildings on one side and more square, still-being-constructed white buildings on the other. The driver also pointed out the ancient fort which is one of the main attractions of the city. As we got further in, the traffic started getting thicker and more chaotic. The way people drive in India is that if there is a space they can drive into and overtake the car in front of them with, even if it's on the other side of the road, they do it! They just beep the horn as they do it (instead of indicating)! As you can imagine, there is a lot of noise on the roads!! Rickshaws and motorbikes carrying up to four people were weaving in and out of the lines of cars - I saw a little family on one! - as the traffic carried on past the roundabouts, parks, flower-adorned public statues, temples, to the Marriott Hotel which is situated by the Sagar Lake, a large man made lake. There was also a walled graveyard opposite the hotel which had "graveyard - do not urinate on this wall" spray painted across it several times!

The Marriott was a compound unto itself. Before entering the grounds the car was searched with a reflector and a sniffer dog. Then, once the car pulled up to the entrance, our bags were put through a scanning machine like the ones at airport security, and men and women were taken off separately one at a time to a curtained off area where we were individually scanned! Prashant, my colleague, said all hotels had tightened their security following the terrorist attacks in Mumbai in 2008. But once we were inside it was cool and beautiful, and the heat and dust were replaced with smells of frangipani and lemon. A fountain flowed merrily in the middle of the reception area.

We checked in and then were escorted to our rooms. My room was large and spacious, with the most comfortable bed I've slept on in years, made with luxurious linens, with a lovely view of the graveyard! (my colleagues were on the other side and had a pool view!)

I was utterly enchanted!

My colleagues who had flown over with me from London desperately wanted to sleep, as did I - it was about 6am UK time by this point and we had basically been up all night! We'd left London at about 2pm the previous day, stopped in Dubai and then connected to Hyderabad from there, so it was the best part of 16 hours travelling. I let myself sleep for 2 hours and then got up again, as groggy as I was, to get myself on Indian time. It always works!

So after waking up from my power nap, I had a small lunch in the hotel restaurant - my first Indian food in India! I had a simple meal of rice, dhal and paneer, and they made me some fresh naan bread in their tandoor. I felt surprisingly ok on so little sleep! And brushing my teeth with bottled water took some getting used to, I kept forgetting and rinsed my brush under the tap! I also got a funny call from the concierge at the hotel, they were updating my profile on the hotel database. I got asked - "what is your favourite fruit Miss Moore? And what is your favourite drink? Do you like music? Do you like to party? And what is your favourite travel destination?" I half expected a crate of mangoes and gin and tonics to appear outside my room! Heh heh!

View of the city and lake from the hotel

I had an early night and was awake very early the next morning, so decided to haul myself up to the hotel gym where I cranked out an impressive 10k on the treadmill - I don't know where I got the energy from! It was so damn hot in the gym, even with air conditioning. Then I met my colleagues for breakfast, where I was cooked a traditional dosa - a pancake, stuffed with curried potato. They brought over a spicy red lentil soup to go with it. I dipped bites of the pancake into a coconut chutney, then into the soup, then ate them. It was delicious but most unusual, more like lunch than breakfast!

The work side of things went very well - my talk was on the first day of the conference and things went very smoothly! We were given a traditional welcome, as you can see from the photo of me below. The red dot on the space between my eyebrows is called "tilak". This red mark is regarded as the sign of good wishes, blessings and fortune. We also were given a traditional garland of flowers, which symbolise love and respect. I thought it was so wonderful and didn't take my garland off for the whole day, even though the flowers had started to wilt in the heat.

That evening I relaxed with my work colleagues - they were very nervous about getting food poisoning so we just stuck to the hotel restaurant and entertainment. We ate beautiful food - the fresh naan was the highlight for me, it was more like pastry than bread! Yummo!

And we went for a swim in the pool after dark, which was lit up with tiny lights like fireflies. All the while we could hear the honking and hooting from the cars and rickshaws on the surrounding streets.

On the second day I woke up feeling a bit ordinary, like I had a cold coming. I was a bit grumpy about it, especially seeing as I was about to head off on my own travels and didn't want to be sick for them. But I thought about it and actually heard a message from my body (weird I know!) saying "hey! You've given me a long haul flight, plus hardly any sleep, plus a 10k run, plus indian stomach antibiotics, plus malaria pills, plus all the curry you can handle....what do you expect?!" so I stopped moping, chilled out and felt a lot better. Choose your thoughts like you would your clothes, etc :)

Yes, I had been rereading Eat Pray Love too! It put me in a very reflective mood.

After we finished the conference on Day 2, we were taken to a few shops around Hyderabad that had been recommended to us - first of all we stopped off at Febindia, which had shelves and shelves of clothes, tablecloths, napkins, cushion covers and lots of teas, incense and other things. The lights went off in the shop about three times while we were in there, due to the generator overheating! I got a beaded top and two tins of tea, (including the ginger one we're drinking) and it came to about £9.

Then we went to a strange jewellery shop where my colleagues bought some pearls! It reminded me of Argos because it was so busy! But instead of flipping through the sacred catalogue of all knowledge (for all you Bill Bailey fans out there!) you were taken to a seat and the salespeople brought all the pearls out to you. There were three guys in the corner restringing pearls under lamplights with tiny scissors and another man walking around with tiny silver cups of chai for the customers.

The next day we were taken early to the Hyderabad airport - my colleagues were going back to Dubai, I was heading on to Goa for a little holiday! I was really excited to see a bit more of India. The real India, I thought. I was already quite enchanted by it, but I was well aware that it's easy to be enchanted by a place when you're viewing it through the lens of a five star Western style hotel.

And so I was on my own. I caught a flight to Bangalore, where I waited for a few hours, and entertained myself by looking at all the books in the shops, they were some gems like this one:

And this one!

I then caught my flight to Goa from there. The food on the planes was fantastic! Paneer, rice, roti bread, and a lovely pineapple sambal. I couldn't get enough of the stuff! Qantas, take note! Why can't all airline food be like this? :)

When I finally emerged from the airport at Goa, there was a guy with a sign with my name on it and we headed down to Palolem Beach, it was about an hour's drive from the airport. The urban highways and residential developments slowly became a thicker, greener, almost jungle like landscape. It was a really interesting drive - I saw lots of lorries that were decorated with pictures of gods and goddesses, and lots of "Jesus Saves" lorries too (Goa is a predominantly Christian area of India, I was told). In the back of one truck, there were about four workers having a nap on top of the bags of concrete.

And I almost squealed with delight when I saw an elephant walking along the side of the road next to the car! They are working animals in this area, I think my driver said they were from the spice farm. The only time I've ever seen elephants is in a zoo, it was amazing to see one walking along the road, and another one further down, waiting patiently by a shop while it's owner had a chai :)

Finally we arrived in the village of Palolem, one of the few parts of Goa still open before monsoon season hits. There was no sign that bad weather was on the way, it was a sticky 36 degrees each day that I was there! I signed in at the resort office - I loved how they wrote everything in a book, nothing was done on a computer - and then I was shown to my little beach cottage! I loved it on sight:

It was very basic inside, but it had air conditioning! The door was locked with an intricate padlock that reminded me of the one that went on my high school locker.

The grounds of the resort were magnificent, filled with lush flowers and plants, even coconut trees. It was paradise.

The beach was gorgeous. I don't really appreciate how much I miss the ocean, living in London. The Thames doesn't quite cut it sometimes. The sands were silky white, burning hot after a day's sun, littered with boats and herds of cows sunbathing. The sun was starting to dip behind the hills, streaking the sky peach and bronze.

I had been feeling quite unwell that day, so I had another early night, found myself awake at 3am and listened to some Book Show podcasts to get me back to sleep, and woke up the next morning feeling fantastic. I washed briefly with my bucket and jug (it was surprisingly fun and refreshing - and the thing was, I was sweaty and grubby again the minute I stepped outside!) and then spent the majority of the day on the beach, eating, drinking, writing and taking it all in. I had a masala omelette and toast for breakfast, and a watermelon juice (which was beautiful!) and then before I knew it, a few hours had passed and I was hungry again, so I had some beer and the most beautiful curry I think I've had in my life. Everything was so fresh and fragrant.

I wrote and watched people on the beach. There were women walking around with jewellery and bright sparkly scarves and fabrics to sell, and one woman was doing henna tattoos. She spent about an hour on one girl's shoulder. I watched, transfixed.

I walked the entire length and breadth of Palolem beach:

I ended up doing a 2 hour one-on-one yoga class on a cliff at sunset - I had seen signs for the class, but when I got to the end of the beach there was no obvious sign where the class actually was. Eventually a passerby showed me - it was quite a trek! It reminded me of the winding, rocky beaches near where I spent some years of my childhood in Cygnet, south of Hobart. I was convinced I was wandering through someones backyard, but my chaperone didn't seem phased. Eventually he pointed to a hill in the distance and left me to it! Eventually I saw this sign:

And climbed my way to the top!

It was a glorious view from that clifftop. There was a concrete circle, with yoga mats arranged outwards from the centre like spokes on a wheel. I had only brought my Yogitoes towel (gift of Mary, which goes everywhere with me) but there were mats I could use. At first I didn't think anyone was going to show up, not even the teacher! I decided I'd just do my own practice whatever happened, but then the teacher Raja showed up and we got started. He was a real character! But there was something so calming about being on that cliff, as the sun was starting to burn away and sink behind the hills.

"No one who comes to yoga goes away empty handed," he said as we set our intentions for the practice. I thought that was beautiful.

It was an invigorating practice, a lovely way to dust the cobwebs of jet lag off. I just kept thinking about my humbler than humble origins in yoga - doing a DVD I'd bought from an Avon catalogue in my lounge room - and now here I was, doing tree pose on a cliff overlooking a beach in India.....We stopped the class halfway through to watch the dolphins frolicking in the waves. I thought to myself, I'll wake up soon. It was all very surreal and beautiful.

We took some pictures at the end - it was kind of cool to have some pictures of me practising yoga, and I was dismayed to realise I don't quite look like Shiva Rea ;)

"Something to show your mum and dad," smiled Raja.

He was a gentle, generous man, and introduced me to his wife and young daughter afterwards. It was 400 rupees for the 2 hour one-on-one class, which is about £6. A bargain to say the least. I was uncomfortably aware that the amount of money I had on me to last me the rest of my trip would probably be enough to keep him and his family going for some time. Oh, the western guilt. It weighed heavily on me. When you see how happy people are with so little, it does make you question a lot of things. I certainly came away feeling grateful for what I have. These feelings were even more acute in Mumbai, where the disparity between the wealthy and the poorest of the poor is even more overwhelming. In Goa the beauty of the beaches and landscape subdued that for a while.

I went back to the same beach-front cafe/bar for dinner, and enjoyed many Kingfisher beers and the same curry I had had for lunch, I couldn't resist. The staff recognised me from earlier in the day and said "are you sure? Don't you want the barbecue?", showing me the hot coals they had set up on the shore and the vast array of fresh fish on offer. I was sorely tempted but all I wanted was that beautiful curry, the fragrant rice, and the soft crispy fresh naan. And watermelon juice.

I beavered away at my netbook, chatted to some very nice people and then managed to have a Skype call with Tom on the free wifi. I stayed at Cuba Goa, drinking and writing, until they kicked me out! Man do I know how to live the wild life ;) ha ha.

I stayed up until I hit the 100,000 word mark. I knew I wasn't going to finish the whole thing before my 30th birthday (now only a fortnight away) but I was pleased to have hit that milestone. The fans rushed and whirred above my head as I typed and then collapsed into a happy sleep.

Breakfasted the next morning on the beach. This lovely creature kept me company:

The beach was full of stray dogs that wander around, or sunbathe, or keep people company. They aren't officious at all, they just wander around looking at what's going on, checking out the action. Even though I'd had my shots I knew it wasn't a good idea to give her lots of pats, so I just enjoyed the company and gave her a crust of my toast when I'd finished :)

Did a bit of marketing:

I got stared at a lot, which I was told to expect, but what I wasn't prepared for was how many people would come up and ask to have a picture with me! It was a bit strange but I laughed it off. Everyone I met was so friendly and kind, and seemed more than happy to assist me or point me in the right direction.

I checked out some of the local shops where I met a strange lady who sold all manner of things, all of which she claimed were "good luck"! She had a rather fierce look about her and I was worried I'd be cursed if I didn't buy anything! I ended up buying some incense off her and as she handed the bag to me in exchange for my 100 rupee note, her eyes narrowed and she said "IS GOOD LUCK!"

I hope so, I thought as I left the shop! Three weeks later, I burned the incense the night before a 10k race. I had hurt my foot and wasn't sure if I'd be able to run. The next morning I woke up and I could run! So yes, maybe it was good luck.

Eventually I went back to my favourite stall where I got a lovely dress and tablecloth, and a Gandhi t shirt for Tom! The owner, Anita, and I had a lovely chat. She was the second person who offered to buy my dress off me (no way, it's my favourite!)

Two days in Goa was not enough. I will go back. I can still taste the watermelon juice.

I caught the flight to Mumbai later that day. I think that was when the real adventure began, where India revealed another layer.

To be continued...........

turning 30

2011-05-29T11:36:00.003+01:00

Birthday card drawn by my clever husband

Thursday was my 30th birthday. There was torrential rain in London, so the breezy, leisurely walk into the city had to be forgone, but apart from that I had a lovely day. Tom treated me to dinner at Chez Bruce, where my birthday cake was a peanut butter parfait with caramelised bananas. We had champagne at Selfridges. I decided that my thirties is the decade I embrace curly hair. There were presents, owls, flowers, crackly phone calls, text messages and kisses. I am so blessed.

One of my favourite drops

Birthday "cake" at Chez Bruce

incredible india

2011-05-18T22:35:00.001+01:00

India, a set on Flickr.

I've just come back from a week in India. I am still digesting everything I saw and experienced there, searching for the right words....it is an incredible, haunting and enchanting place. I felt very reflective while I was there. I have about 6 blog posts brewing in my head, but until my brain catches up I thought you might like to see some of my photos. More soon :)

2011-05-09T14:52:00.000+01:00

from Ordinary Courage

i ran a marathon!

2011-04-19T22:34:00.000+01:00

trust is....

2011-04-14T13:01:00.000+01:00

Image by Kristin Noelle

......whether it's writing a novel or running a marathon!

In 3 days, I might be about an hour from the finish line.....wishful thinking......

Special thanks to my lovely friend for sharing the image :)

she may contain traces of nuts

2011-03-30T15:56:00.005+01:00

I don't remember where I found this, but obviously liked it enough to save it to my desktop, which I'm clearing out :)

There's not a lot to report, hence the silence! I've just been training like a madwoman, spending weekends either doing long runs or going all over the country for races, managing to keep my full time job (!), keeping my creative fingers in all the pies I have them in (freelance stuff, etc), and catching up on sleep in between! But in 3 weeks the marathon will be over, and then there will be another marathon of a different kind waiting for me......to see if I can make my goal of getting my first draft finished by my 30th birthday! Having run a 16 mile race on Sunday I'm in a place where I don't think anything is beyond me, so we'll see!

How are you all going?

red wine on a friday night

2011-02-25T18:20:00.003Z

Original artist unknown, but found via fitterthanchoc

Isn't Emerson fantastic?

He always knows the right things to say.

Sore and tired from marathon training, but highly pumped. Haven't felt this fit in a long time. I'm doing 10k before breakfast!! I never used to be able to run on an empty stomach! Today I ran intervals - I had to run 1km in 5 minutes, 10 times! Sounds easy but it really wasn't!! Sore now, but the bottle of Mad Fish shiraz in the wine rack that is waiting to be opened when Tom gets home will make it easier. YAY for Friday nights - when I can have a drink!! :D

Novel has stalled a little, but I have remedied that by forcing myself to Starbucks at the end of the working day, as per the routine I had going late last year. It's working! Happily into Part 2 now, where things are starting to fall into place for the character. There will be a few more hurdles for her, but I'm having fun deciding what those will be.

Jody Hedlund had an excellent post over at her blog the other day that really made me think. I don't know whether this novel I'm writing right now is any good or whether it will ever have a life outside of my little netbook and the one or two PDFs I've sent to some brave friends - I only know that not writing it is not an option.

How are you all doing?

it's been a while!

2011-02-15T16:08:00.000Z

from Keri Smith

Hello friends! It sounds incredibly stupid to be saying Happy New Year in February, but 2011 has got away from me a little! Perhaps my flippant "see you at Easter" remark just before Christmas was more on the money than I thought ;)

I began the new year still with the receding tide of the old, swimming in the shallows of it, wondering what would come next.

But then, things happened. No matter how much you plan, sometimes things take you by surprise. Sometimes you don't set your own goals, they come and find you instead!

I have three goals this year:

1. Cross the finishing line of the London Marathon (I found out 3 weeks ago I got in! It's now 9 weeks away!)
2. Finish a full first draft of my novel by my 30th birthday.
3. Spend Christmas with my family in Australia.

Anything else will be a BONUS!

How is 2011 working out for you all so far? Anything exciting to report?

Tom and I also had our honeymoon in Portugal two weeks ago - it was wonderful! Lots of photos and stories to share. Just thought I'd better stop in and let you know I'm still alive ;)

More soon! xx

cheers!

2010-12-24T16:26:00.006Z

me last week at with my 70,000 word celebratory mango lassi - more on that later!

Seasons greetings everyone! I thought I'd just stop in quickly and wish you all the best for the holiday season. May you be safe, happy, well fed and relaxed in your celebrations!

Sorry for the few weeks absence - perhaps I should wish you all a happy Easter while I'm at it.....

Thank you for taking the time to read my little blog and its various ramblings this year. Your encouragement, kindness and words of love, support and inspiration have meant so much to me. In turn, thank you for allowing me to share your journeys as well. It is a privilege.

Bring on 2011, where no doubt there are more goals to kick and more dreams to dream.

My love and my best to you all. See you on the other side! xxx

PS: This is the view from my parents-in-law's house at the moment! A white Christmas!! Huzzah!

green gloves

2010-12-06T19:39:00.004Z

I am always so touched by a handmade gift, and even more so when it is a complete surprise! These arrived on the weekend from my friend in Hobart, and are absolutely perfect. I have been wearing them non stop, and probably will be for the entire winter. And they're green! Thank you Kris!

Oh, my clever friends who can knit! I am envious! My nan taught me when I was about eight, but my efforts were always riddled with dropped stitches. I've tried to learn again as an adult, and have been trying to knit a snood since April 2009! I'm hoping to finish it on our 5 hour train journey to see Tom's family for Christmas, so I might have a chance of wearing it this winter....dropped stitches and all :)

Can you knit? Or crochet? Or are you like me and are mistress of cross stitch? :)

roses and violets

2010-12-02T18:09:00.004Z

Photo by my friend Kiki, who has an iPhone :P

I think Melt might be my new favourite chocolate shop in this fair city. On Saturday, while Christmas shopping, my friend Kiki and I stumbled into this chocolate lined oasis in Notting Hill. They were morsels of heaven. Pictured above are the roses and violets, which were gorgeously floral in flavour rather than sickeningly sweet. My favourite was the blackberry and ginger. Autumnal, earthy, fruity and luscious, like a beautiful red wine.

Melt
59 Ledbury Road
Notting Hill
London
W11 2AA

Mon-Sat 10am-6:30pm,
Sun 11am-4pm

to the shops (and post office)

2010-12-02T17:14:00.006Z

Picture from Natalie Dee.

I always breathe a sigh of relief when the Australian leg of my Christmas shopping is done, I have braved the post office queues and made (in fact beaten!) the deadline for international posting! YAY!

A few gifts still to be sorted but thankfully these are coming courtesy of an artist in Queensland and a bottle shop in Hobart - somewhat easier to arrange delivery!!

Now it's time to hit the shops (Oxford Street, online or otherwise) for my UK family and friends! I've found, of all places, Notting Hill and Portobello Road really good for Christmas gifts this year!

And how are you all going with your holiday shopping?

tread softly, for you tread upon my coffee

2010-12-01T23:27:00.006Z

This jar of instant coffee has been in my pantry since August, when my parents came over for the wedding. Only Dad drank it!

I can't bear to throw it away just in case he and Mum happen to pop over for a coffee one weekend. It's silly, because of course they can't. But keeping these things makes me forget that the ones I love are as far away as they are.

autumn is......

2010-11-17T12:10:00.001Z

Photo by Allotment 2 Kitchen, used with permission.

My mate Inner Pickle has been doing a little "nothing says summer like" photo series this week and instead of getting envious about the sun, sand, surf and homemade ice blocks (!) I thought I'd write about the couple of things that are rocking my world in this beautiful but freezing autumn we are having!

So, autumn is........

.....making soup. I made Allotment 2 Kitchen's brilliant parsnip and wild rice mulligatawny soup on Monday night, and both Tom and I were in ecstasy over it. It is the most delicious soup I've had for ages!! And Allotment 2 Kitchen is my latest blog crush, it is an absolute delight. If you're vegetarian, love to cook and appreciate freshness and seasonality, you will love it! I've already done a meal planner for next week with all the recipes I want to try!

....red wine. As you might have been able to tell from my last post, the summery Pimm's, gin and tonics, and even beer, have been relegated to the next year pile and we're making our way through some delicious reds, which seem to suit this time of the year perfectly. Last night was Chilean Cab Sav to accompany the "sort of minestrone" I made.

....leaves falling and landing on your head or your back while you're on your 7pm run :) I thought it was a spider last night :P whoops. I love seeing the piles of leaves that have been swept up neatly as I walk to work in the mornings. I saved a particularly pretty leaf to paste into my journal.

....reading, reading, reading! Piles of novels up to my waist. Read the most amazing novel last week, Swimming by Australian writer Enza Gandolfo. I want to tell you more about it, but it was possibly the best book I've read all year. Rich, textured, detailed and honest writing that flooded me with memories of Melbourne, of heartbreak, of longing. I also came away from last week's dinner party laden down with various Kiwi literary treasures on loan from Sas and Ash. Emily Perkins' short stories in Not her real name are exquisite.

....apple and plum crumbles. With Greek yoghurt :)

....yummy cold weather clothes. I got these from the King's Road the other day:

It is dangerous for me to go clothes shopping at this time of year! I love autumn and winter fashion.

.....ordering new winter boots.

....cleaning. I know this seems like something that would be better suited to spring (!) but because I spend more time inside, in my home, when it's cold and dark, I want it to be a haven! And the detritus of my daily existence negates this whole haven idea! On Sunday I finally cleaned up my side of the bed, much to Tom's amazement. He has been gently suggesting for months that the stuff on my side of the bed might possibly have morphed into something alive, as it was obviously breeding. I have finally sorted through it, and oh my God was there junk - receipts for random things from Waitrose, envelopes which I have saved for the purpose of writing down the sender's address into my non existent address book, wedding memorabilia, train and bus tickets from all my European jaunts over the last 18 months, catalogues showcasing X's Winter 2009 collection (!), the boxes which held my engagement and our wedding rings, library books I have obviously renewed but not been aware were still in my possession, 2 "cuddle buddies" (travel pillows which are very comforting to sleep with), I won't go on........but it feels wonderful to have cleaned up and have space.

....toasted sandwiches. I eat these all year round (!) but there is something especially lovely about biting into a warm, oozy with cheese and tart with homemade chutney toasted sandwich as the sky begins to darken or the rain is lashing to the ground outside.

....writing. Last night I tried to crack the 60,000 word barrier on my novel, and was only 300 words away but the chapter reached it's natural end and it was after midnight and I was falling asleep....maybe tonight will be the night? I have also started keeping a paper journal again, the first since I got married. I am tempted to do an Anais Nin and call it "Journal of a Wife". It is all very random but feels good to have my thoughts and ideas documented in a non-Twitter way.

....blackberry and nettle tea. It makes me feel like I'm living in the woods with fairies and field mice in Brambly Hedge.

.....drying all the clothes inside!

....yoga classes. I have started going again in earnest, in my quest for balance over the colder months and also, as work on my novel intensifies, to keep my muffin top at bay! I'm finding as the nights get icier and the dark creeps in earlier and earlier each day, yoga is a wonderful way of addressing that need for balance.

....walking home in the dark. Tom and I often meet at a cafe after work where I've been writing for an hour (he finishes later than me) and then we walk home together, through the park when it is usually deserted except for the geese and ducks settling down for the night. There aren't many lights in the park so you need to walk carefully! We feel the soft piles of leaves beneath our feet, and hear Big Ben striking the hour, and see the Eye lit up, talking about our days and holding hands through fluffy, fleecy gloves. The walk is always faster with him.

Image via weheartit.com

What are you enjoying this autumn, my friends?
(or spring/nearly summer if you're down under?)

my new favourite drop

2010-11-14T22:09:00.003Z

Mount Difficulty Pinot Noir.

(the name is very fitting, considering how long it took me to write this little post this evening!) :P

Best consumed while talking to lovely Kiwi folk, patting a lovely, spirited kitten in front of the fire and eating fig salad, roast potatoes and chocolate tart. After a few of these it is easy to get the words "geography" and "geology" mixed up, as my husband found out :P

Having all but emptied our local Oddbins on Saturday afternoon after discovering our wine rack was empty but for a bottle of Cava my father bought while he was here in August, we will be venturing back again to buy every one of these precious bottles we can lay our hands on!

It is definitely pinot weather here. Autumn leaves, rain, grey skies, seeing one's breath when walking.

What's your favourite drink at the moment? It doesn't have to be wine :)

things i love #30

2010-11-07T22:46:00.002Z

Image from swoonetumblr, found via weheartit.com

Image by me! taken at La Fromagerie, Marylebone

Image by Jennifer Causey/Simply Breakfast found via weheartit.com

Muesli and granola.

Or "moosli", as my grandmother has always pronounced it!

For most of my life I had been fairly unimpressed with muesli and granola, until I was about 20 and bought the very first Donna Hay magazine that had just been launched in Australia and in it there was a very basic, idiot-proof granola that was basically oats, chopped up fruit of your choice (I had apricots), chopped up hazelnuts and then drizzling the lot with maple syrup and putting in the oven for about half an hour to bake and crisp up. You then let it sit and cool. The melting little pools of maple syrup hardened like shards of toffee. It was delicious. I would crunch my way through the entire tray, sprinkling it on top of yoghurt or Le Rice (like Muller Rice) and thinking "mmm, I think I might like granola after all."

Muesli, on the other hand, with the exception of the Uncle Toby's muesli bars which were the lunchbox staple of every child who grew up in Oz in the 1990s, had always been something that tasted like cardboard, to me, with a few handfuls of sultanas thrown in! This all changed in 2005 when my friend Mary introduced me to this:

After that, this was my breakfast staple! My old faithful readers will have heard me harp on about Carman's before! It is so utterly delicious, toasted to a turn with crunchy nuts, dried fruit (including my favourite apricots), honey and cinnamon. It was the perfect partner to my favourite low fat Vaalia yoghurts, or to the thick, decadent Tamar Valley yoghurt if I was feeling indulgent. For a while I ate the fruitless one, but went back to the Classic Fruit. My mum always brings over a box or two when she visits, and I always bring one or two back when I make it over there. I haven't seen the muesli for sale here in the UK, but I have seen the bars (which I haven't yet tried). Has anyone seen it?! I might check the Aussie food shop in Covent Garden.....

So, to quell my homesickness for Aussie muesli when I first got here, I made my own! I went to my local Holland & Barrett armed with a list and came home to make the muesli of all mueslis! I used Kathryn's recipe from here, used my favourite dried fruits (apricots and cranberries), and it made an absolute stack that kept me going for months. It was fun adding everything in layers to the giant cereal container and then shaking it to get everything mixed through!

And it's so moreish. Something this good for you shouldn't taste so nice :)

One of my favourite places in London, Wholefoods, has a wonderful make-you-own muesli bar which I frequented when I lived a bit closer to it (across the park)! This was where I was introduced to the fudgy, candy-like delicacy that are dried strawberries! Sadly they don't offer them in the make-your-own bar any more, perhaps because they cottoned on that people like me were taking more strawberries than they were oats and cereal :P The other week we were there and I felt a pang of nostalgia, so I made myself a little treat bag of make-your-own muesli to enjoy on ur four day weekend. Yes, that's right - my idea of a treat is not cheesecake, or a bag of chips, but muesli! The teenage me must be spinning in her grave!!

I've recently got into dried mango, thanks to it featuring quite a bit in my fortnightly graze box, so compensated for the absence of dried strawberries with that! I also indulged in lots of different nuts and seeds, and flakes of sweet white coconut. This muesli was bee-yoot-iful.

While I thoroughly recommend making your own, when time is short my favourite supermarket finds are Dorset's Full of Fibre muesli, which has lovely flakes of coconut in it, and Sainsbury's own Honey Nut Crunch granola! The latter proved very addictive to my sister who came to visit earlier this year - so much so I sent some over for her birthday a few months later :)

Homemade muesli or granola also makes a lovely breakfast bar or healthy slice to have on the go - a lifesaver for busy mornings (or when you sleep in, a la me!). Or just eat it as I do, with your favourite yoghurt or milk, and savour. It's healthy, delicious, and so satisfying. My favourite breakfast, hands down.

Now just to get that one pesky sultana out from under my "8" key on my work keyboard :P (whoops!)

What's your favourite breakfast? Are you a muesli/granola person too? :)

remembering margaret scott

2010-11-04T11:13:00.002Z

This drawing of Margaret Scott is by Hobart-based artist, potter and desktop publisher, Cate Lowry

© Copyright Cate Lowry, ACYS, 2002 Source: The Write Stuff

When I was sixteen years old, my school held a kind of activity day in late October in the lead up to the end of the year and the Christmas holidays, when attention levels were drooping and we were in need of some fun, with the HSC (Oz equivalent of GCSE) exams on the horizon for most of us. The day was filled with workshops in various recreational activities designed around the theme of "Let Your Lives Speak", as per the Quaker ethos.

I signed up for the creative writing workshop which was to be run by Margaret Scott. Margaret was a poet, novelist and well known intellectual, both throughout the state and on a national scale, and at this time she was a regular on Good News Week. Students and teachers alike were abuzz with excitement about her coming to the school - I, on the other hand, almost exclusively inhabited the world of nineteenth century literature at that time (oh, how cool I was!) and didn't really know who she was. I was just interested in doing a creative writing workshop!

She gave us a topic to write on and we were given fifteen minutes to write a piece, and then we went around the room where everyone read theirs aloud. I was surrounded by students who I knew really fancied themselves as the top dogs of the arts at the school, and most of them eagerly volunteered to go first, with Margaret offering some brief comments, but nothing along the lines of "oh my goodness, that is amazing for one so young", which I think they were expecting! (I'm sure you all went to school with people like that!)

It came to my turn and I read my piece. When I finished, no one said anything.

Margaret started saying something, but then she trailed off and looked right at me. Her eyes were so perceptive I felt like she could see through me.

"Would you read that again?" she asked.

Being an insecure teenager with no confidence in my abilities, my immediate thought was "why? What's wrong with it?!" I felt very stupid! But I seem to recall the rest of the people in the room looking at me with a mixture of awe and envy. So, I read it again. Of the whole group, I was the only one asked to read again. And then the piece was discussed for almost the rest of the session, until one of the teachers supervising remembered that there were a few more people to get through! I can't even remember what it was about, but I seem to recall everyone's comments on the hidden symbolism in my piece making me sound far more in command of the craft than I actually was.

I never told anyone about it at the time, but I look back on that episode now with pride. Sometimes in my low moments I think back to it, and think that if a piece I wrote made a fine writer and scholar such as Margaret Scott have to think twice, then maybe I do have something.

It's a memory I treasure. Thank you, Margaret.

She passed away in 2005. It was only in the last few years of her life that I got to know her through her work, not just this memory. I love her poems, particularly the housework ones (which I'm trying to find a copy of) and I recommend trying to find her novel Family Album - if you're in Australia you should be able to get a copy from most libraries. It's a lovely book.

Do you have a moment like this that you look back on, to spur you forward? Please share in the comments :)

~ ~ ~ ~

CASTAWAY

Sometimes a neighbour's look, a post-card, a telephone call

will carry you up the shore of another life

and leave you gaping amazed at sudden jungle

a world away from the dolorous desk

the spruce back-yard, the brick-and-tile in Rosebud.

This glimmering shade's cacophonous with

unfamiliar names of long-dead pets and teachers,

side-streets in distant cities and faithless lovers.

The canopy's alive with flitting shapes unknown

beyond the confines of this island.

Here is the castaway's camp, his palisade,

contrivances he's fashioned year by year,

stores he saved from the wreck of his old ship

before it sank from sight beyond the reef.

Fragments of once-proud sails now patch his roof.

A saw, a pannikin hang by the bed

where every day he wakes alone at dawn

to a view of mountains. Those peaks rise

over the trees in a blue scrawl whose message

you seem to have read from a different angle

on the wall of sky to the east of your own island.

let the beauty we love be what we do

2010-11-03T13:13:00.001Z

I am loving the vibrant, beautiful colours of thewheatfield's works on etsy! (Etsy is where I found my wedding dressmaker! It rocks!). Although space on the walls of our flat comes at a premium at the moment, as we have framed things everywhere, and still have our wedding cards draped on lines of string, two months on (!), I would love something inspirational and uplifting like this somewhere. Maybe the bathroom, where I've spent many scary moments this past week (stomach bug, all gone now!).

I also recommend checking out Folksy if you haven't already - it's basically a UK version of etsy, and a great place to buy handmade things. I like the sleepy owls. There are many owls in our flat, but after Tom's 30th birthday, we now have a handmade wrought iron Welsh dragon as a mascot to knock poor Olley off his perch (mantlepiece).

How are you going my friends? More novel news for you soon. xx

on fire

2010-10-24T23:46:00.001+01:00

Image from weheartit.com

Somehow over the course of the last few weeks, my novel manuscript has climbed to over 50,000 words. Many reasons for this - firstly, renewed energy; secondly, having a net book that doesn't take 20 minutes to load like my old laptop does/did; thirdly, setting a routine. Crucial, that one. For so long I resisted it, thinking oh, I'm a creative type, I'll just do it when I feel like it, which is always...which is never. That, I think, was my biggest mistake, waiting for the right time, waiting for everything to be perfect. Finally, I realised that my biggest fear was not failure, and was not success, but showing the world who I truly am and what I am truly capable of. It still might not be enough, it still might not get the response I want and people will probably misinterpret it and get mad with me and say nasty things about me behind my back but people do those things already.....at least this way I have a novel to show for it all.

Somehow, in the last few months, I let go of some of the biggest things that have held me back all these years. They are still there, of course they are, but they are no longer a good enough reason to not do something I want to do, that I must do. Marrying the man I love has helped enormously. In doing that, I did something that the voices in my head told me I couldn't do, that I was bound to fail at and mess up. I drew up all my strength, I said go away to those voices and did it anyway. And now, I'm doing the same thing.

Oh, isn't it funny once we start doing something we thought we could never do that we realise there was never anything to be scared of in the first place.

And look, there's 50,000 words, just like that.

things i love #29

2010-10-24T18:54:00.000+01:00

Showers.

I don't consider myself a girl who needs a lot of luxuries in her life, but I love showers. The longer the better, and the pressure has to be just right!! A thin, miserable weak mist makes me very grumpy (and cold!).

I like them hot. I start the water temperature at a fairly moderate heat, and the longer I stay in there, the mixer gets turned to the left just a little bit more, and then just a little bit more. I like the water to have a bit of bite to it. I'd have two a day if I could (and sometimes I do).

There is no better feeling in this world than having gone for a massive run, or a challenging yoga class, or having done something where you feel physically spent, and then to stand under that soothing cascade of steaming water, washing every shred of tension, every drop of sweat away.

I definitely prefer showers to baths. I enjoy baths, don't get me wrong, but to keep warm in them, I usually end up adding more and more hot water (see above) and so end up bathing in my own sweat, and afterwards I need a shower to cool me down and well, get clean!

The best shower that I've had in my own home was in a flat in Hobart I rented nearly six years ago now. Albeit the flat itself was an ultra shrine to the early 1980s and had carpet in the bathroom, but the shower was amazing! Alas, the hot water cylinder was from the 1980s too, and I got maybe ten minutes in there with it on full pelt if I was lucky!

The shower in my current flat is really lovely. Water pressure perhaps not quite at Antipodean levels, but lovely. And the hot water never runs out!

My favourite shower gel is this one:

I used it all last summer while training for my half marathon, and I would use it in every shower after a long run in the sun. It smells of pine and rosemary and mint, and is the most refreshing thing ever! It is still my "after run" shower gel - as in, I'm only allowed to use it if I've been for a run. At £12 a bottle, it's my way of making it last longer! And it's a surprisingly successful motivator. As someone for whom an active lifestyle didn't come naturally and I've spent the last five years retraining my brain (and body) to adopt things such as triathlons, half marathons and 10ks among other things, you have to keep the motivation going however you can. The promise of a long, hot shower and some gorgeous, fresh smelling, expensive shower gel goes a long way to getting me off that couch!

Baths are good for me when I'm in a meditative mood...but showers are my every day luxury. Next to going for a run, they are a guaranteed way to make me feel good!

What about you? Are you a shower person or a bath person?

the wedding, part two

2010-10-13T23:32:00.002+01:00

See here for part one.

Wednesday, September 1st

It is the wedding day! I wake about seven, the light in my room is pale and milky. I worry that outside it will be pouring with rain. But when I pull back the curtains, bright, golden sunshine spills in. The sky is blue. It is perfect!!

I do some yoga. I have breakfast with my parents, who then walk up the road to the florists to get the flowers which will make up my bouquet, bridesmaids bouquets and buttonholes later. I bounce around. “I’m getting married to Tom today!” I keep saying. Phone keeps beeping with texts and emails, I read every one – they make me smile and wish there was some magical way of getting all these special people over to London.

Hair and makeup starts.

While the whole beautifying process has been going on, Dad has, proudly, been on the 360 bus to Wholefoods Kensington and brought back a spread for lunch – fresh fruit, smoked salmon, ciabatta breads, avocado hummous. There is champagne, and coffee. Everyone makes sure I eat something! Although I try to eat daintily (very unlike me, I always get something on myself!) to avoid ruining the makeup! Mum helps me put on my earrings – pear drops from Mimco that she and Dad bought for me. They are beautiful and I love them!

Then it's time to get dressed! Mum helps me. I put on my dress first, and then step into the petticoat that I had made – with six days to go! I step into my shoes. Mum makes a few adjustments to the cleavage. She opens the doors and I walk out!

Tah dah!

Kristy has made my bouquet from about a dozen of the roses. We tie it together with ribbon Mum and I bought from Liberty, and a ribbon from the bouquet from my friend’s wedding in Italy that I caught last year. Doubly lucky for the girl who catches it today!

We pose for photographs in our courtyard, amongst my scraggly pot plants and the washing! I ring my sisters on Skype, each one in turn, and talk to them for a few minutes. There are a few tears. The only thing I would change about the day would have been to have the three of them there. It just wasn’t the same without them.

My sister Claire showing me her bump, which became my nephew Oliver three weeks later!! :)

But Sheena snapped away, with me oblivious, and I’m happy that I have a picture with each of my sisters on my wedding day (although they were all about to go to bed – one had the flu too!)

Then we locked up the house and went across the street to my hairdresser again for the final finishing touches. We added two roses to my hair, and finished with some shine spray. Then it was time to go!

We walked down the road towards the tube station, thinking we’d just hail two cabs, as there were six of us. Originally I’d thought we’d just grab the Number 2 bus to Marylebone, but my family thought that was a silly idea!! We had been standing on that curb for no more than 5 seconds, when a cab came around the corner. Not just any London cab. A MAXI cab, that had enough room for all of us in it! You never see maxi taxis ready to hail, just like that! It was as if it had been waiting for us.

And so we travelled along in the mid afternoon sunshine through central London, laughing, chatting, and with me feeling a bit nervous but more happy and excited than nervous, I’d say! Sheena snapped photos, I was looking around at parts of London I don’t normally see during the day, and then before I knew it we were through Marble Arch and on Baker Street heading up towards the Town Hall! We stopped at a traffic light and looked to the left. There was the Hall, and there was my groom outside!!

I was very happy now!!

The taxi pulled up outside. I got out of the cab last, and there was Tom on the pavement, waiting. I will never forget the way he looked at me.

Kristy fixed Tom’s buttonhole, and his best man Ed’s, and then we all went inside together.

All the guests, including the bridal party and our parents, went into the Blue Marriage Room where the ceremony was going to take place, and Tom and I went into a little interview room on our own where we waited for the registrar. We just held hands and talked softly and laughed and Tom made jokes about wanting to kiss me but he knew he shouldn’t just yet!

We waited for quite a while and were both starting to get a bit nervous, wondering whether there had been some kind of glitch and we weren’t going to be able to get married after all! I was starting to panic there had been some problem with my paperwork (even though I’d sorted all that out months prior – the things the brain does to you when you’re nervous!) but then the registrar burst into the room, full of laughs and smiles, and interviewed us briefly to make sure we weren’t still married to other people or under any kind of duress!

We had to state our names, ages, addresses, father’s names and father’s occupations – this all goes on the marriage certificate, handwritten by the registrar with a beautiful fountain pen. It did feel like we were in another age. The main reason we chose Marylebone Town Hall to be married in was because Paul and Linda McCartney were married there, and we are huge Beatles fans and loved the connection. Finally, we were given the go ahead to come in to the marriage room and begin. We stood outside, one hand clutching my bouquet, the other clutching Tom’s.

We walked into the room, and my eyes swam as I looked around, I barely registered who was there, and everyone clapped as we came in together. The room was beautiful, full of fresh flowers (including, my bridesmaids noticed, kangaroo paw, which I thought was a gorgeous touch). The ceremony began. My left leg started trembling and wouldn’t stop!

The ceremony was very brief. We started with a welcome and a few declarations Tom and I had to make publicly, the “I will’s” and then our wonderful friend Ivy read a passage from the novel Captain Corelli’s Mandolin by Louis de Bernières:

Love is a temporary madness.

It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides.

And when it subsides you have to make a decision.

You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together

that it is inconceivable that you should ever part.

Because this is what love is.

Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement,

it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion.

That is just being in love which any of us can convince ourselves we are.

Love itself is what is left over

when being in love has burned away,

and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.

Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground,

and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches

we found that we were one tree and not two.

She read it so beautifully.

Then the moment had come for us to say the vows we had come up with ourselves! Gulp!

I went first. I had been writing my vows, or a version of them, for months, a la Kel Knight – “idea for wedding vow” had been a draft document on my computer for ages. But the night before the wedding, alone in our bed, with all the things I wanted to say swirling in my head, everything became clear and I reached for a pen and paper and just wrote a few lines, which I ended up saying almost word for word.

There was so much I wanted to say. How do you tell the person who made you believe in love again how much they mean to you? The person you want to give all of yourself to, because you know your heart and your secrets and the dark parts that you don’t like, are safe with them? How do you tell them that they make you want to be a better person, to live life so fully and to only do good with yourself, as that is what they do? In the end, all I could really say to him, as I choked out the words, was that before I met him, I had no idea what love was.

Apparently, everyone was crying during my little speech! For myself, I struggled to keep my tears in, and the only way they wouldn’t fall was by squeezing his hands and looking deep into his eyes, never straying from them, watching his face soften, and break into a grin when I made a joke, feeling his hands grip mine harder as my voice wavered slightly, and watching his eyes brim with tears as I spoke the last few words.

“How am I going to follow that?!” were Tom’s first words when it was his turn!

I don’t remember a lot of what Tom said. Everything was a happy, joyful blur. Then we had to say another funny vow that sounded like it was out of a Jane Austen novel (you aren’t legally married until you say it!) and then we exchanged the rings, which slipped on easily, as if they had always been there.

“Congratulations, you are now husband and wife!” said the registrar. This is the look on our faces when she said that:

And then we were married!

We signed the registry, with David Bowie’s “The Wedding Song” playing in the background. My Dad got my attention at some point and pointed to the back row. Sitting there, grinning back at me, were my uncle and aunt from Canberra who had flown over as a surprise! I was gobsmacked!

Finally we were presented with the marriage certificate. “In this country,” said the registrar with a smile, “the certificate is given to the woman.” And so I held it, in my hot little hand. I felt it was fitting. Being handed that envelope was the moment where I thought, this really is a new start.

And then we had lots of hugs and congratulations from our friends and family who were gathered there – we had maybe 20 people there, tops. It was all we wanted.

Eventually we came outside and were showered with confetti, posed for pictures in the sun, and all the buses and cars and taxis that passed the Town Hall hooted their horns at us as they passed and yelled “congratulations!” from their wound down windows. Once we’d had enough of pictures, we hailed a cab which drove us the 15 minutes up the road into North London to our reception.

I have only been to perhaps one wedding where the food blew me away, and you all know how much I like my food(!), so it was important that the food at our wedding was delicious, plentiful and stuff we liked. The Hill had an extensive vegetarian canape menu, so we ordered enough of everything, plus bowls of handcut chunky chips with homemade salsas and dips, and bountiful cheese platters with fruit and bread and crackers. The canapes were artichoke and roast tomato crostini, quesadillas with homemade guacamole, haloumi and felafel skewers with a spicy mayonnaise, and brie and mushroom pastries. Everyone raved about the food, it was absolutely stunning.

We had bellinis and Australian sparkling wine to greet everyone on arrival, and then there were a selection of white wine, red wine, various soft drinks and beer to get everyone through the evening. I really enjoyed the white wine. Tom and I had a few sneaky G&T’s as well!

We had some wonderful speeches, my Dad made everyone laugh with his particular brand of Aussie humour. There was a very moving moment when he read a speech that my sister Liz had written, that she would have read herself had she been able to be there.

A little while later we cut the cake and fed pieces to each other, and managed to get around the party to talk to everyone – it never seemed long enough, and because it was a Wednesday night most people weren’t making it a late one. I threw my bouquet, and my friend Kat caught it!!

Finally we hopped into a cab to take us to Mayfair for the night.

Then, it was just us.

So, that was our wedding day. Perfect in every way, and an absolute joy from beginning to end. But you know what? Being married to your best friend is even better :)

Lots of love, Mrs S xoxo

All pictures in this post, except the last one (self portrait) are by our brilliant photographer Sheena.

the wedding, part one

2010-10-07T22:42:00.001+01:00

It's hard to believe the wedding was only five weeks ago! It feels like many months have fallen away since that day, years even. Life seems to have taken on a sweeter taste, with the same old routines but with newer dishes and glasses to wash and dry up, that sparkle and feel so incredibly special. We are so happy. It's still sinking in that we're married!

The whirlwind of the last four months since we started planning the wedding in earnest has left us both a bit depleted but every day there is so much love, so many reasons to smile, and so much to look forward to. We both feel like something wonderful has begun and starting to blossom, though we haven't really been able to put our finger on what. Is this what true love and true happiness feels like, I wonder to myself.

So, let me tell you the story of our perfect, amazing day. I don't want to forget any of it, and the longer I leave writing it all down the higher the chance is that some precious drop of it will trickle away.

July

We send out our invitations. I had seen something similar and knew when I saw it that this was very, very us. With Tom's Photoshop prowess, we scanned in our favourite Penguin - Any Human Heart by William Boyd (the barcode on the back is the same!) - and take it from there:

Everyone loved the invites! We did get a few "Phil and Tom? Is it two guys getting married?" queries, but I am used to that now!

August

This month did not start well. On a night alone in the house, I decided to try on the dress I bought for the wedding. I got it in June, on a bit of a whim. It was a floor length, halter neck jade green dress, very sexy, very glamorous. And not very me, as it turned out. It was a size too small but it did fit and, you know, I work out, so I figured I could get away with it.

Uh...no.

So imagine this, it's a warm night at the start of August. Since the end of June, I have worked out solidly and barely eaten anything that casts a shadow - I even turned down strawberry pavlova on my hen's night! - in the vain (in all senses of the word) hope that the dress would be a more flattering fit. I've lost weight, but all around the boobs. Now, the top half of the dress, the one part that actually fitted properly and looked good, is baggy and billowy. The bottom half hasn't budged. It is the wedding dress from hell.

I just don't get this about us women. Why do we buy clothes for the body we WISH we had, rather than what we've actually got? I move all the furniture that blocks the only full length mirror we have in the flat and finally look at myself. I take one look at myself in the mirror and say, out loud, to no one, "I can't wear this on my wedding day." But then I take the dress off and stare at my body in the mirror. It looks toned and healthy and..well, fine. So why, then, why does this dress make me look like an elephant? I can analyse and shriek at the mirror until the cows come home, but there is no maybe about it – I can’t wear this dress.

I ring my friend Ali in tears. "I'm getting married in four weeks and I don't have a dress! What the hell am I going to do?" I sob. Ali, in her typical fashion, suggests I could go naked. That is exactly why I rang her of all people, because she’d make me laugh.

But, for the next week, I exhaust and torture myself, going to every dress shop London has. It is a disaster. The city is empty of dresses. Empty.

Finally, my friend (and bridesmaid) in Hobart comes to the rescue and sends me a link to a dress she's found on Etsy. I know it isn’t the dress I want, but I like the look of the shop - Dig for Victory, a young dressmaker who specialises in 1940s and 1950s vintage styles, based in Brighton. Browsing through the rest of her online selection, I see a dress that I love on sight. I ring her and make arrangements to come to her studio on the weekend to try things on and see what she can do for me. It can't be any worse than having to brave Westfield again.

It's Gay Pride weekend in Brighton and so the town is jumping, the trains are crowded and all I want to do is collapse in a heap. I feel so bad that I'm so upset and heartbroken that I don't have my dream dress, even though I know exactly what I want and can't find it anywhere and if only I could sew and if only I had more money and if only I were taller and thinner and if only I weren't such a terrible person because then bad things would stop happening to me and maybe this is the Universe's way of telling me not to get married, panic, panic, panic.

Tom has told me over and over that he doesn't care what I wear, that I could show up in jeans and a t-shirt and he would still marry me. I feel so shallow for just wanting to look wonderful, just once, and knowing that that's not what it's all about, but unable to get past hating the idea of photos that I'll look at forever and think "I look terrible". I have less than a month to go now. Every bespoke bridal place or dressmaker I’ve approached in London has apologetically turned me away. It really will take a miracle.

And so I go to Brighton where I'm greeted by Eleanor and a hot cup of tea, and we pore through the dresses.

"I only have four weeks," I say with trepidation.

"That's fine," she replies breezily.

The dress is beautiful, and it fits perfectly - as if it had been waiting for me. Eleanor’s studio is in the basement of a vintage store, and we go upstairs into the shop so I can see the dress in the big, twirly mirrors. When the girl in the store produces a fluffy 1950s petticoat to go underneath, the whole outfit is transformed and I feel like Marilyn Monroe. Eleanor agrees to make a dress in the same size, but with an extra inch on the hem to make it knee length and give an air of elegance. The dress is made of vintage taffeta in emerald green, with a sweetheart neckline and cut to emphasise the waist, and it makes me feel wonderful. I don't feel like a bride but I didn't want to feel like a bride - I just wanted to feel like a more beautiful, more elegant me. And I do. And it’s green! Just what I wanted! I can't get over how reasonable the dress price is - made to measure, in two weeks, for £85. The original Halston Heritage dress now hanging like a sad flabby piece of seaweed in my cupboard cost four times that. But I can't think about that now. My search is over and my heart is light.

My parents arrive in mid August. Seeing them again is wonderful. We were initially worried about how the four of us might cope with our tiny little one bedroom flat but our worries were groundless. I had forgotten how mindlessly efficient my parents are - washing is done, ironing is done, dishes are done! Dad is entertained by the local characters, especially Mr Patel in the corner shop, and is amused by the bus and cab drivers, and their lack of conversation (he tries to talk to everyone!). Mum is bowled over by the giant Sainsbury's up the road from us and goes up there every chance she gets.

Mum and I have a lovely time getting things organised for the wedding - she helped me find my shoes, earrings and other last minute things, and she found a flower shop that was closing down and got a mountain of lavender plants, mini bay trees, an ivy in the shape of the heart, and some other decorative plants for the reception, for something like £19! She seems to be able to sweet talk everyone :)

We go to Wales for a few days to see Tom's parents – and to show my parents a bit more of the UK. I initially thought this was a silly idea to go away, just before the wedding when we still have so much to do, but it turns out to be the best thing we could have done. Being out of London, with nothing to organise and being forced to relax, I feel myself unravelling from this tight coil of thoughts and feeling more ready for this wedding and marriage than I have ever felt for anything in my life.

Bank holiday Monday is cake making day! My bridesmaid Kristy arrives from Hobart. We have a relaxing hand and arm massage at Jo Malone as the cakes cool outside :)

So much butter! :P

On Tuesday I am taken out for afternoon tea to the Langham with my bridesmaids and my mum - it is the most exquisite and decadent thing I've done for ages. The executive pastry chef, Cherish, has even made dainty shortbread biscuits in the shape of wedding dresses in my honour!

Afterwards I meet Tom and our photographer Sheena down on the Southbank for a little prewedding photo shoot. I love this one! (he was meant to be sharing!!)

Tuesday night we take everything out to The Hill for tomorrow, and then have pizza and beer with our families in our courtyard. The heat and sunshine has returned to London after nearly a fortnight of rain, and everything seems bathed in golden light. We have high hopes for tomorrow being a beautiful day. Eventually, Tom heads off to his sister's place for the night. The goodbye is charged and exciting, but brief, and before I know it, he is gone and it's just me, Mum and Dad. I am bouncing off the walls. My mother gives me half a Valium so I’ll sleep.

Part two coming soon...........

that's how you get there

2010-10-01T13:11:00.002+01:00

How To Get There

Go to the end of the path until you get to the gate.

Go through the gate and head straight out towards the horizon.

Keep going towards the horizon.

Sit down and have a rest every now and again.

But keep on going. Just keep on with it.

Keep on going as far as you can.

That’s how you get there.

- Michael Leunig

Thank you Ailsa for sharing this with me.

Happy weekend everyone :D

PS: I crossed the 30,000 word threshold for the novel I started in May last night.

So much unravelling. And such a different feeling with this one.

my new favourite book

2010-09-18T00:11:00.008+01:00

This week I've read:

and it got me back out there, sweating on the Thames path, Kylie blaring in my ears, feet pounding the pavement, over the bridges and through the parks in the early autumn evening sun. A perfect run.

taking the cake

2010-09-13T00:26:00.002+01:00

Guest contributor for this post: my husband :) [he did the cartoons]

The wedding cake was one of the most fun tasks leading up to the big day. My mother has used the same baker for all the wedding and celebration cakes in our family, but obviously this baker couldn't make a cake in Tassie and then ship it to London (well, not easily!), so she gave Mum her secret recipe for luscious chocolate mud cake to bring over so that we could make it ourselves in my tiny broom closet of a kitchen!

Mum and I bought shares in the Jane Asher cake decorating shop, getting the right tins, ribbon, bags of belgian chocolate and white icing. My bridesmaid Kristy arrived from Australia on "cake day", so she fought off the jet lag by melting chocolate and weighing out flour! It was a lot of fun and made me very proud to think we had made it ourselves. And it tasted Out. Of. This. World.

The figures we had on the top of the cake have a cute story behind them. Tom has always loved the Indiana Jones films, ever since he was a kid.

When the last Indy film came out in 2008, Tom was, of course, very excited! We were living together in North London back then, and were doing our weekly shop at our local ASDA, when we saw these sweet little Indiana Jones and Willie Scott figurines near the checkout. We had a giggle over Indy's giant hands and I said to Tom, jokingly, "if we ever got married, we should have those on top of our wedding cake!"

He rather liked the idea!!

Fast forward to two years later, we had set a date and we were talking about the wedding cake. I remembered the little figurines in ASDA and we both thought how cute it would be if we could manage to find them again......Tom managed to track them down (thank you Amazon)!!

They even look a bit like us....kind of!! ;)

Icing the cake proved to be a bit of a nightmare - Mum had to phone the baker to get help, as our first effort looked like a 3 year old had done it! - but it eventually all worked out and looked absolutely amazing!

And it was so, so delicious.....imagine something between a cake and a fudge, and this was it!

We've frozen the top layer for our first wedding anniversary, or for when our first child is born....my money is on the first wedding anniversary ;)

Next wedding story: the dress!

Photos of me and Tom by Sheena, other cake photos by me.

so full of love

2010-09-09T22:45:00.001+01:00

Wow, you guys - I feel like way more than a week has passed since the wedding, it feels like months! The souvenirs of the day are littered around the flat - my petticoat I had made especially with less than a week to go, my vintage handbag, the bobby pins, and my wedding bouquet sits in a vase on our dining table with the blooms getting fuller and more open by the day.....it feels so surreal and to be honest I'm still taking it all in. I am full of joy.

So many people have told us that they loved how real the day was, and that made me so very happy because that was just what we wanted. Something genuine and relaxed that truly reflected who we are. But most of all, I think the day was about more than our love - it was just about love itself. That was what I saw in every guest's smile, felt in every hug, heard in every laugh and basked in from the taxi ride to the registry office to the quiet bar afterwards when only a handful of us revellers remained. I never thought a day could be so perfect.......everyone was smiling and laughing and rejoicing, there was just so much warmth and happiness....and there were bellinis!

I have so much to say. So much. But for now I'll just give you a few more pictures:

“It is also good to love: because love is difficult. For one human being to love another human being: that is perhaps the most difficult task that has been entrusted to us, the ultimate task, the final test and proof, the work for which all other work is merely preparation.”

-Rainer Maria Rilke

**most of the photos are by our wonderful photographer Sheena - she was FANTASTIC**

reader, i married him!

2010-09-03T23:30:00.007+01:00

Photo by the fabulous Sheena.

We did it!!

It was the most perfect, amazing day of my life.

More soon!!!

ready

2010-08-28T23:37:00.001+01:00

This weekend we just escaped to the countryside to enjoy the calm before the storm.

Two days of fresh air, runs in country lanes, yoga on sweet, soft grass, gin and tonics in heavy crystal tumblers, pedicures, roasted tomato soup, fresh Victoria sponge, petticoats made to order, tea in bed, home made frozen yoghurt, watching apples drop off the trees....and just being fully and completely happy in my own skin, knowing that what I'm going to do in about three days time feels so right and I have never been so ready for anything in all my life. That is the feeling that is sitting with me, has sat with me, for days and days now but I didn't really pin down until today. I am ready. I am ready.

See you all sometime after Wednesday!!!

marination

2010-08-04T22:54:00.002+01:00

Image via weheartit.com

Image found via morphineblisstumblr

I don't have baths very often - usually because I have them so hot I find that I need a cold shower after them, and that washes all the soapy, flowery, salty bath smell away!

On Sunday night I had one, with Radox to soothe my sore, sore muscles. I read in the bath, but I always find my mind churning out random ideas, thoughts, lines for a poem or a story, mulling over scenes (future or existing) in my novel, all the while I sit there marinating, waiting for my face mask to dry.

When I got out of the bath, once I was dry I immediately went and wrote down all the thoughts I'd had while in the bath. They ranged from "buy plant food" to musings on yoga to tattoo designs (I'm not getting one!) to article ideas for my freelance gig.

It's funny how fertile the mind becomes when the body is still, quiet and somewhat constrained.

Where do you come up with your ideas?

things i love #28

2010-07-30T10:32:00.003+01:00

Palmer's Cocoa Butter.

Or any thick, yummy smelling moisturiser, really.

But, oh my, this one. This one, I love. It's one I come back to again and again and again, particularly over the summer. It has the most gorgeous smell, like a cocktail of melted chocolate and vanilla ice cream and buttery, fresh-from-the-oven cookies! When you put it on to warm skin, the chocolatey-ness of it intensifies and it reminds me of wandering through Cadbury's in Hobart on a tour of the factory as a child, breathing the warm, heavy scent of cocoa.

When I was a teenager, I used to love reading "celebrity beauty tips" in the trashy weekly gossips that my grandmother used to buy and then pass on to me and my sisters when she was done with them. My mother also had a really cool retro Women's Weekly Beauty Book from 1977 which I used to love looking through too. And in one of these leafing expeditions, I remember reading about one celebrity - I can't remember who it was now - who said that after every shower or bath, she would smother herself in moisturiser, all over. So I, at about age 14, started doing that as well. And, like all things if you do it often enough, it became a habit.

15 years later, I still do it. After every bath or shower, I grab my moisturiser of the moment - currently, it's the above - and don't use very much, but do manage to get moisturiser over every inch of skin possible. And then I delight in the yummy, freshly baked cookie scent of it all :)

And I don't know whether my resulting soft and very supple skin is a coincidence or not, but as most of you know, my body size and shape has fluctuated a great deal over the years, and my skin, while showing a few scars for it, is mostly taut and smooth and betrays very little signs of the body I used to have. I think my moisturising scrupulousness over the years might have something to do with it!

If someone touches my arm or something, one of the first things they say is "oh my, your skin is so soft!" That's always lovely to hear!

I have many favourite body moisturisers - I love the Body Shop's body butters in Brazil Nut, Coconut and Strawberry; Boot's Patchouli and Lavender body butter; and there was a really nice Dove one I used for a while. But Palmer's has been a mainstay in my routine for a while now, and it won't be disappearing any time soon. It's so easy to get hold of too, you can get it in the supermarket in most places around the world, I think, and it's pretty cheap too as I usually score a bottle for less than £4. B for bargain!

Put it on, and you'll smell like a chocolate sundae. That's always a good thing. Be prepared for deliciousness!

What's your favourite moisturiser?

decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse: or, how i met my man

2010-07-23T00:00:00.004+01:00

Today it is 40 days until the wedding!! It has an almost biblical reverance to it, don't you think?

So I thought, seeing a few people have asked, I would share the story of how I met the wonderful man who will be my husband in 40 days.

I moved to London in July 2007, and while I was beyond thrilled to be here, it took a while for me to find my feet. In all honesty, it was a bit of a nightmare at first. Job hunting, flat hunting, having to deal with all sorts of other issues that I really didn't need.....it was an incredibly stressful and frightening time. I don't know how I got through it really, because I was so on edge that I barely ate, slept or thought rationally during that time. There was one moment, I remember clearly, where I was sitting in Hyde Park, crying, thinking about going back to the flat I was dossing in, packing my bags, and getting the first plane back to Australia. I didn't want to do it, but it felt like it was slowly becoming my only option. Nothing seemed to be going my way, at all! But finally, after about a million flat viewings, a successful job interview, some tearful conversations with the few people I felt I could be honest with, and a lot of vodka, everything sorted itself out, as it always does when you're where you're meant to be, and I began to feel so much more at home.

During this time, I'd gone on a few dates with some wildly unsuitable people, none of which had gone particularly well, and I was a bit over the whole dating merry-go-round. I was a bit lonely, admittedly, but I had finally accepted in my heart that it was better for me to be on my own than with the wrong person. Been there, done that! And my life, apart from my various romantic disasters, was going great otherwise! I had had a piece accepted for publication in a London magazine. My new job was going very well. I loved where I was living. I had plans for weekend escapes to various European cities I'd always wanted to see. I was SO happy. I woke up every day with a spring in my step. Who needs a guy? I thought, I WANT to be single!!

And so I'd been in London for nearly two months, and one of my oldest friends from Australia, who happened to live here and had been my lifeline since arriving, was having a birthday party one Saturday night - in fact, I think it was her third birthday related celebration that week! It was a beautiful, balmy evening, the first day of September, golden and sun-flecked. The party was at a bar in Notting Hill. Well, we'd started at a very expensive and exclusive place in Notting Hill, where the cocktails cost about what I was earning per hour in my job. The Aussie dollar exchange rate at the time was absolutely shite, it made me quiver in my boots. Everyone says not to think about the exchange rate, but I couldn't help it! Even though I was earning the pound, I worked out I'd spent the equivalent of $70AUD on just two drinks (the exchange rate was about 2.7 dollars to 1 pound at the time). Yikes!!

We moved on to a more moderately priced bar a few blocks away, where I sipped the cheapest beer I could find, trying to make it last because I was now going to have to live on pitta bread and cheap Tesco hummous until my next pay day. It was about 10.30pm and I was wondering how much longer I could make my beer last, and then make my excuses.

Tom, in the meantime, was in a flat on the other side of town, with his sister, who had been invited to this birthday bash. He'd come up to London earlier that evening to crash with her that night, as he was starting a new casual job (to earn extra cash) the next day. She lives in a part of London where public transport isn't particularly reliable. He had a car, and so she asked if he would mind driving her to Notting Hill to the party, and if so, he should come along as well, you never know, he might meet someone nice......Tom wasn't keen, as he'd been as lucky as I had in the romantic stakes, ie: not at all! But his sister wasn't going to take no for an answer and he was eventually coerced into putting on another shirt and a splash of Gucci cologne, and driving her to the party.

After finally getting a parking spot about 3 blocks away from the bar, Tom and his sister walked up and attempted to enter the party. There was a bouncer on the front door, and as it was after 10pm it was now £10 each for them to get in. Tom, as mentioned, had come up to London to start a casual weekend job in addition to his full time job, so he didn't exactly have £10 to spare and wasn't impressed! He said a few choice words and then goodnight to his sister, and headed back to the car.

He'd gone about a block when he heard someone running behind him. Convinced he was about to be mugged, he turned around.

It was the bouncer.

"Mate, was it the birthday party you were coming for?" he asked.

Tom said yes, but he wasn't paying £10 to get in, forget it!

The bouncer gestured back to the bar. "No, don't worry, I'll let you in for free."

When does that ever happen?!

And so Tom, a bit taken aback, went back to the bar, and headed downstairs to the party.

At this point in time, I had said my goodbyes to the birthday girl and was literally about to leave. She pointed out Tom's sister, who I had met once before, so I went over to say a quick hello before heading off. I think I'd only said a few words to her when I noticed a very handsome dark haired guy walk over to her (Tom, of course!). She introduced us, we started talking and I knew within a few minutes that my plan of leaving early had gone out the window.

It's hard to explain, but while there definitely were fireworks (!) it didn't feel like a romantic thing at first. It was fascinating, learning all these things about this new person I'd just met, but we chatted so easily it felt like we were old friends. Tom really is the most jolly person, it is impossible not to like him. And I thought he had a wonderful smile, and when he laughed his whole face lit up. I remember us having the most amazing conversation, where it was like everything and everyone else in the room was blurred or on mute. I was just so absorbed in him. I was just being myself, he was just being himself. There were no games, no smoke screens - we weren't trying to impress each other at all. We talked about literature, theatre, travelling, writing - all mutual interests, as it turned out! I bought him a drink when he confessed he was skint and that was the whole reason he was up in London, something he later felt embarrassed about as he felt he should have been more of a gentleman and bought me a drink! But as he told me later, he'd bought more than his fair share of drinks for girls he'd met in bars in his time, who had eventually lost interest and walked away, so he had no reason to believe I would be any different.

Before I knew it, it was nearly 1am and we'd been talking for about two and a half hours! I had no idea how to get home, as the trains were now finished for the night, and I was only familiar with tube routes! Tom offered to give me a lift home, as a thank you for me buying him a drink, and so we left the party to a few raised eyebrows from my friend and Tom's sister (!), and drove through the centre of London, talking all the way, where he showed me parts that I hadn’t seen before at night, like Sloane Square and Chelsea Bridge, and finally we ended up back at my house in Clapham – after nearly two hours, as we got a bit lost! I couldn't give him directions, because I had only been living in the house for two weeks!

I just remember thinking, I can't remember the last time I enjoyed talking to someone so much......I wished I could have stayed out with him all night, I didn’t want the conversation to end! How could it be possible that we'd only met that night, it felt like we'd known each other for years. I was quite disappointed when we eventually found my house. But we swapped numbers and said we should catch up again sometime, but I had heard that many times and so was determined not to get my hopes up. After a chaste but very charged kiss on the cheek, I went inside and into my room, smiling, and thought "what a great guy. I'll probably never see him again, but what a great guy."

But the next day he texted me, and that was when the butterflies and dreamy smiles started! I stalked him a bit on Facebook, looking through the photos of him and saving some of the ones I liked on my computer so I could just look at them whenever I wanted (turned out he had done the same thing with photos of me!!). We sent each other excerpts from our writing projects, and talked every day either via email or text until we finally met up again that Saturday for dinner…which was the best date I've ever had. Tom recreated it when he proposed last November :)

The whole thing was so unexpected, as I had finally decided, for the first time since becoming single, to just enjoy life and concentrate on me. But, looking back, I think the timing was perfect. And, as crazy as this sounds, I think I’ve loved him from that very first night.

I love telling the story of how we met. Everyone exclaims over the amazing coincidental-ness of it all, and we just smile at each other, because it truly was the last thing either of us expected, given what we had both been through in the years before. Most of all, our story reminds me of the magical connectedness of things. Our story is no more extraordinary than the millions of other true stories about a chain of events that concludes with meeting the love of your life, but to us it is extraordinary....because we might never have met otherwise! I've always been fascinated with the "what if..." factor in people's lives and how those lives might have turned out had one fork in the road been taken rather than the other. I'm reminded of that wonderful line by (who else) TS Eliot - "In a minute there is time/For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse." Imagine, if I hadn't gone to the party at all, or Tom had stayed home alone in his sister's flat? Imagine if the bouncer hadn't run after him? Imagine if I had left when I was planning to, instead of hanging around just a few minutes longer? You could never have planned it. And yet, in the impeccable timing of those few precious minutes, there were the seeds of a new life.

And that's why we're getting married on September 1st this year - because it's three years to the day that it all happened, a day that could have been like any other were it not for the magical twists of fate that led us to each other.

And that giant cliché is so true - stop looking, for that is when love will find you.

write club

2010-07-17T23:24:00.003+01:00

Image via weheartit.com

I made a wonderful friend on the Arvon course I did in April. We met up for a reunion drink a month ago and had such a great time we decided to try and keep the energy of the course we did going and....dum da da dum.....start a writing group!!

I've wanted to start a writing group for....ever! So I'm very happy!!

But of course, being class-A procrastinators, the aim of the first meeting was to come up with a catchy name - on hearing about our quandry, Tom suggested a Pet Shop Boy's parody as a temporary solution, which was "The Writing -That Doesn't Have a Name But Eventually Will Have A Name - Club" but Nat (my friend) found that a bit of a challenge in designing the club logo and catchphrase!

So, somehow, "Write Club" has stuck. Nat came up with it - it's a play on Fight Club. We've even got the motto - "bare knuckled writing"!!

So far we've been meeting fortnightly over dinner and wine to share our thoughts on the other's work. It's been so motivating, inspiring, and....fun! At our last meeting a week ago, I was quaking in my flip-flops a little because not only had I read her fantastic first 3 chapters, but I hadn't heard from her since I handed over my first draft for her perusal , so had assumed that maybe she didn't like my first 6 chapters, and that my novel was like my most recent cup of coffee - weak, poorly made and overpriced.

But I was wrong, as usual. She was so complimentary!! Her first words to me were "I loved it!" which thrilled me to bits!! We talked a lot about the characters, which she felt were very well rounded and with a good balance of action and introspection. There were a few specifically Australian things I mentioned that she didn't get - which I will probably rework - but otherwise, I came away absolutely glowing from her comments and kindness. Her novel is amazing, and I feel privileged to be getting a first glimpse at it. She's kept working steadily on it since we met at Arvon, and at our last meet, she popped open a bottle of champagne to celebrate her latest milestone - 40,000 words! I hope to meet the same milestone myself in the next few days :)

Write Club is proving to be wonderful so far. I've been so supported and encouraged to face my fears and continue to tell the story, regardless of what might conspire to throw me off course. How bright and wonderful the world is when you are in the company of a kindred spirit.

But of course, I've now broken the first rule of Write Club, which is......never talk about Write Club!

interview with me at suburban yogini

2010-07-17T23:00:00.002+01:00

Rach and me at a bar in Camden two weeks ago! World Cup fever and mojitos :)

The lovely Rachel interviewed me for her latest series my yoga story over at her superb and inspiring blog, Suburban Yogini. Rach is as fun and bubbly in real life as she is in her writing - and we've bonded over our mutual nostalgia over all things Tasmanian! If you're into yoga I guarantee you'll get a lot out of her lovely blog - do stop by and tell her I sent you!

things i love #27

2010-07-14T22:32:00.001+01:00

Remember my things I love series I did in May?

I thought I'd surprise you all with a few more! :)

Soup.

I am quite mad about soup. It's one of those meals that manages to satisfy your stomach and soothe your soul at the same time.

I remember my love of soup beginning when I was a teenager. I would scour my mother's old recipe books and make soups for lunch on the weekend and during school holidays. I remember having weird ones with mushrooms, sherry and chives in them, and more homely ones that were basically pureed vegetables with a big dollop of Promite stirred through. I made potato and leek, minestrone, and chicken and corn.....and sometimes I'd just be lazy and heat up a can of Rosella tomato and have it with toast. I must (sheepishly) admit that in those days it wasn't so much what something would taste like that I was worried about but...how many calories did it have in it? How much fat? Oh, what a waste of time and effort that turned out to be! I lost 25kg the year I turned 16, but I'd put it all back on, plus more, by the time I was 22. But that's another story! I, as you probably guessed, learned to love my food again and develop a better relationship with it. But my love of soup has always prevailed.

My mum makes one of the best soups in the world - sweet potato and pumpkin. Whenever I make it now, I make it exactly to her recipe, and the first mouthful from the stockpot is always heavenly and squeezes at my heart a little, because it tastes like home.

Some of my favourite soups have been discovered by trying them in a cafe or restaurant, and then trying to recreate it at home. When I lived in Hobart, there was a wonderful cafe called 4Lunch which always had an impressive line up of soup cauldrons. A friend and I got a soup from there one day which was moroccan chickpea and lentil. It was so incredibly amazing that I looked up recipes on the internet, and tasted and tweaked until I got it just about right! I still make it now.

Another of my favourites is a version of minestrone which has short pasta, vegetarian bacon, and every vegetable in the world you can think of, topped with a dollop of chunky homemade pesto.

Soup really is one of the most nourishing meals I can think of. It can be as light as you want, or a thick and hearty complete meal in itself. It's all I want to eat when I'm ill or feeling a bit delicate. Last week we were in Wales with Tom's family, and I was beset with pre-monstrosity. Tom's mother gave me a steaming bowl of vegetable soup, laced with barley, and suddenly my horns disappeared and all was right with the world.

Even though it hasn't been "soup weather" in London lately, it has certainly cooled off and after today's ferocious, almost horizontal, downpour I knew exactly what I was in the mood for. When the sun has disappeared from the sky, the air is cool and the clouds are black, a bowl of something warm and delicious is just the ticket!

Tonight's was butternut squash, chilli and lime.

Would you like the recipe?

I made it up, based on the offering in the staff canteen today! It was 1 butternut squash, peeled and cut into chunks, 1 onion, 1 medium fresh red chilli, 2 cloves garlic, 1 knob ginger, a bit of sweet chilli sauce, the juice of two limes, and vegetable stock. Simmer it all together for about half an hour, then whizz. Simple.

The other soup I love, that is my never fail soup when I have a cold, or just want to whip up something impressive for unexpected friends on a rainy Saturday lunchtime, is this one, which I was introduced to by a workmate when I lived in Melbourne four years ago. We used to go to the Queen Victoria markets on Tuesdays at lunchtime, as it was a short walk from our building, and do our fresh produce shopping. It took me ages to learn to shop for one! I always bought so much stuff! But anyway, I remember her picking up a bunch of English spinach and asking her what she was going to make with it. She told me about the soup, and gave me the recipe. I've never looked back, apart from, when I stopped eating meat, replacing the chicken with Quorn fillets and the chicken stock with vegetable stock. Even with those amendments, it's still an absolute winner. Try it, it's absolutely glorious.

So, while I'm grasping at every last drop of summer sunshine and gorgeous muggy heat in the air, I'm not too despondent knowing that summer will breathe its last at some point, the autumn leaves will start falling, it will start getting darker earlier, and there will be soup.

What's your favourite soup?

Beautiful Soup! Who cares for fish,

Game, or any other dish?

Who would not give all else for two p

ennyworth only of beautiful Soup?

Pennyworth only of beautiful Soup?

Beau - ootiful Soo - oop!

Soo - oop of the e - e - evening,

Beautiful, beautiful Soup!

- Lewis Carroll

your salinger

2010-07-12T22:16:00.006+01:00

I love second hand book stores. The charity book stores in the UK are excellent, and when I used to live in another part of London there was an excellent Red Cross shop on the high street about 20 minutes walk away. Tom and I used to spend most Sundays going there, to "the Muppet show", as he called it, because the people who used to run it were...well, a cast of surreal characters, let's put it that way! But it was an excellent bookshop, you never knew what treasures you might unearth.

One of the things I love about second hand books is the history in them. Whose shelves did they sit on, who read them, where might they have gone to get to this moment with me holding them in my hands....there was sometimes a clue or two, sometimes nothing at all. Sometimes the donors to the bookshop left bookmarks in the pages. And not just your usual bookmarks - a business card from another country, a movie stub or bus ticket, and once a card that must have been sent with a bunch of flowers, saying that they hoped the recipient was "feeling better about life". I wonder what on earth happened there?!

I especially love finding books that have unusual thought provoking inscriptions. Whenever I was given a book as a child, the giver always wrote in it. My grandfather always gave me books, and seeing his handwriting in them, when he has been gone for sixteen years and my memories of him are fleeting, is wonderful. It is a legacy of sorts.

About two years ago, in my Red Cross bookshop, I found this copy of Franny and Zooey:

And inside:

I bought it for the inscription!

So, who were Caitlin and (her) Salinger, I wonder?! Were they lovers, or just friends? It was given on Valentine's Day too. How did it end up in the Red Cross bookshop? Did they have a falling out, wherein she was determined to rid herself of anything the man had ever touched, anything that had a memory of him attached.....or was it just not her cup of tea and she was in a charitable mood one day?

Who knows!

But it's going in a book.

Have you ever found something really cool in a second hand store?

cabinet of curiosities

2010-07-01T16:50:00.001+01:00

You all know how much I love tea!

We only have a tiny cupboard for food storage in our kitchen (weird to think I once had a walk in pantry when I lived in Australia!!) and until a few weeks ago, approximately a quarter of it was taken up with tea! Boxes and boxes and boxes of it. I didn't even know what teas I had anymore, that's how crowded it was in there. The solution? Get a pretty cabinet just for tea!

I'd been after a special cupboard/cabinet to house my tea obsession for a few months. The only one I liked was about £130, which seemed a bit extravagant! So I put the tea cupboard to the back of my mind and, attracted by the huge red sale signs, wandered into Laura Ashley in Knightsbridge a few weekends ago, purely on a whim. And that's of course when you're always going to find what you were looking for.....when you stop looking. (Which I'd say is true of most things in life).

Not only was it just what I wanted, but on sale too! Double score!

My lovely fiance was handyman and hung it up for me, and then we filled it with the tea boxes - and found many that we'd forgotten were even in there! Pukka green tea! Rooibos! Twinings chai! Oh my.

The food cupboard then got a clean out - how does stuff leak out of packets so easily? - and now everything has a home and we even have enough room for our enormous "what if there's an earthquake/snow day/apocalypse" stash of soy milk, brown rice and red lentils. We kept grinning at each other and the little tea cupboard like we were some kind of geniuses - who would have thought such a tiny thing would make our lives a bit easier?

But it was far too hot to celebrate with a cup of tea, so we had a beer instead ;)

i am a versatile blogger

2010-06-30T23:19:00.005+01:00

if not a very slack one! **shows face sheepishly and waves hello** How was June for you, everyone?!

Despite my few weeks of silence here, I've been honoured with this award:

So, the deal is:

Thank and link back to the person who gave you the award: thank you so much Steph!!

Share seven things about yourself... trying to think of things not too incriminating that might not have been shared on here before, so as not to bore my handful of faithful readers ;)

1. I used to love cake until a few months ago when I was stuck at a wedding that didn't have any vegetarian food (or even pescetarian, as I eat fish in emergencies!). I had to eat cake for dinner. I was hungry, so had quite a lot of cake, even for me. My mouth felt like a desert afterwards and I've not really been able to eat cake since. Sad! Before then, this was my favourite cake, orange with rhubarb syrup:

2. I am very good with money but have terrible trouble keeping track of what I spend. What a contradiction, I know. It wasn't always this way though, I've wasted a lot of money over the years, but no point crying over spilled Chanel No.5, is there? I don't check my bank balance very often - must be a rebellion thing, because when I worked at bank six years ago I checked it very day, sometimes many times a day. These days it's a little abacus in my head, which is accurate most of the time!

3. There are very few TV shows I am addicted to, but God help you if you ring when Masterchef is on! (I've never seen the Australian version)

image via weheartit.com

4. I hate ironing. I'm no good at it. And I always buy a cheap £3 Argos iron which invariably means nothing gets ironed properly even when I do bring it out! Domestic goddess I am not.

image via weheartit.com

5. My favourite time of the day is dusk.

image via weheartit.com

6. I once appeared on an Australian game show called The Einstein Factor. My special subject was the life and work of Sylvia Plath. I got every question right - although they told me I got one wrong, and I demanded a recount when I produced a printout of a wikipedia (or something, did they have wikipedia in 2005?!) page from my bag to show them I was right!! Didn't win but had a great night and got a free trip to Melbourne (I lived in Hobart then) out of it!

7. I have a navel ring, which I got in Sydney when I was 25. Four years on and I still love it. Every time I look at it, it reminds me of that happy time when I was so high on life. I think it was better than getting a tatt!

Give the award to 15 bloggers you've recently discovered.

Only 15?! There are so many I love! If I have to pick, I really enjoy (in no particular order):

Joe at my delicious blog

Kat at I Saw You Dancing

Nadine Fawell

Inca Maia

Ming Zhu at Orlando and Ivy

Suburban Yogini

Amy at Bring Yourself

Nikki at Fridaville

Jumbleberry Orchard

Sas at Magical Mystery Tour

Mosquito Editor

Fi at Inner Pickle

Kerry at Awaken!

Kathleen at Soul Sisters

Jai at Jai Joshi's Tulsi Tree

Do go and visit them - they all brighten my day in one way or another with their special kinds of magic and insights into life. It was hard to narrow it down to 15 - if you weren't mentioned don't think that you aren't luurrvved ♥

More soon peeps. Lots to fill you in on xox

2010-06-22T17:17:00.004+01:00

Image from Cassia Beck via Frankie

"In this age, which believes that there is a short cut to everything, the greatest lesson to be learned is that the most difficult way is, in the long run, the easiest."

- Henry Miller

the creative identity

2010-06-09T10:16:00.003+01:00

Image from the awesome creative power house Keri Smith.

Good morning friends!

Recently I've been thinking about my creative life - how I can focus more, get myself out there more, keep the energy of Arvon going, and really make my writing the centre of my life. This year is all about action, after all!

A few months ago I was introduced to The Creative Identity and the force behind it, Stephanella, who is one inspiring lady. Like yours truly, she went straight from university into a hideous corporate job which flattened her creativity and left her feeling pretty uninspired and helpless. So many of us would just ride it out and be too afraid to chuck in the comfort and security of a regular paycheck to risk going for our dreams. Not Steph though. She quit the corporate world two years ago and started taking steps towards a life that is centred around her creative passions.

Today, Steph runs her web site The Creative Identit y, and she's passionate about developing and encouraging writing talent, inspiring others and helping people discover and nurture their own creative self. She edits, proofs, is the ultimate agony aunt of writing advice (!), runs short story competitions, and even has a book coming out later this year called Slaughter is the Best Medicine. She's one creative machine!

It just goes to show what you can achieve when you're living your bliss. I think when you're a creative person, your creative identity is your identity. To deny yourself that only leads to great unhappiness, as I found out too. To have your art and your passions at the centre of your life, and to be living the life you always dreamed of is to truly know happiness!

I am so incredibly honoured and thrilled to be featured on The Creative Identity today. When Steph approached me, at first I thought she might have made a mistake, and when I realised she hadn't, all the usual insecurities kicked in - I don't have a book out, or a publishing deal, or an agent, or even a finished novel! My novel is still a Word document man! I wasn't sure whether I'd be able to offer any wisdom, as I still have so much to learn. But Steph's kindness has shown me that for all of us who love to write, and are trying to do something with it, a little encouragement can go a long way. It can be a long and lonely road otherwise. We all have the right to write, as Julia Cameron put it.

Her questions were so interesting and really made me think - about my direction, my influences, what I want to achieve and what sort of creative person I want to be. It was an absolute thrill to be interviewed by her. Thank you so much Steph! Do go and check it out and let us know what you think :)

Doing the Creative Identity interview has given me a real boost - and a boot in the backside too! I'm making lots of progress as I make creativity more central in my life. I signed up for 21 5 800 as you know, and last night I managed my 800 (maybe just under) words on the bus home. It's a little vignette that might feature in my novel later on. The novel itself is coming along well - I'm up to Chapter 6 now! I'm enjoying getting to know my character - I've been researching her star sign and done her astrological chart (thanks to Tor for all her Leo insights!) which has been great fun! The challenge is to not let this novel slide into autobiography - the foundations are in it, certainly, but that's not the project. It's all about getting creative!

I also got brave and submitted an article to a magazine in Australia about a month ago and I heard this morning they've accepted it!! **giant happy dance**

Just gotta keep the wheels turning now, friends.

Have a happy, inspiring and creative day!

it starts today

2010-06-08T09:56:00.003+01:00

I'm signed up! Who's joining me? :)

Devised by Bindu Wiles, this is a community online project where, for the next 21 days, participants commit to writing 800 words a day, and practising yoga 5 days out of 7. I think it's a great way to get some yogi goodness into your life if you're a bit out of the habit (or, like me, your favourite yoga DVD got a crack in it last week!) and to keep the creative juices flowing! My writing has been going well lately but it's always great to have some support, inspiration and just a little more oomph.

Here’s the deal - (in Bindu's words) -

THE WRITING: The writing can be ANYTHING. Memoir, blogs, business plans, essays, fiction, free-writing, letters,……..ANYTHING. The point is to get writing again daily and to have the boundaries and challenge of a daily word count to reach.

THE YOGA: There are several options for you to do the yoga portion of 21.5.800 5 times in 7 days. Here are the options: 1. Go to a yoga class in your ‘hood. 2. Do a yoga dvd at home. 3. Take a 20-40 minute savasana at home on the floor.

Go to Bindu's web site to find out more. If you're in need of some focus, calm and inspiration this could be just the ticket.

lunch for two

2010-06-07T08:40:00.001+01:00

Artichoke dip with sugar snap peas and sourdough bread. Then beetroot and goat cheese salad, with toasted walnuts, fresh thyme from my garden, and a garlicky vinaigrette.

lunch for one

2010-06-05T23:02:00.008+01:00

Lunch outside on my patio this afternoon, in the gorgeous heat.

Olive bread from Paul. A fresh young goat cheese from Neal's Yard Dairy in Covent Garden, slighty sour, but gentle and white like a water lily. Herbal, soft artichokes, salty olives and a soft grilled red pepper, that lolled about on the bread like a tongue. To drink, iced Tazo Passion tea - one sip and I was in Vancouver again.

Oh, summer. May you last a thousand years.

lately

2010-06-04T12:23:00.001+01:00

Well, first there was Paris - delightful, warm, pulsating, gorgeous, inspiring Paris.

And then there's been testing the food and champers at our reception venue:

Thinking about wedding invites:

From weheartit

From OurWeddingDay

Writing a lot.

From weheartit

Obviously not on a typewriter, but I certainly used to, in 1994, in my bedroom in Deep Bay. Novel is growing and mushrooming and it's turning into an exciting journey.

From weheartit

Gardening a little. Trying to nurture my lemon tree, and managed to bring a thyme back to life. Longing to fill the patio with greenery and fragrance.

From weheartit

Champagne tasting with a dear friend in Mayfair - and felt amazingly privileged to taste a 1998 Ruinart. The fragrance was rich like truffles and aged cheese, and I can still taste it two days later.

London is bathed in sunshine at the moment. I am living in strapless summer dresses.

And you my friends? What has been happening with you lately?

today is my birthday

2010-05-26T10:21:00.001+01:00

I am 29 and I am in Paris!

Looking forward to catching up with you all when I return, be good xxx

things i love #26

2010-05-26T00:36:00.000+01:00

My mum.

xxxx

things i love #25

2010-05-25T14:20:00.000+01:00

Images from weheartit.com

Quotes.

When I was thirteen, my godfather bought me a most enchanted book. He had bought it from the night markets in Brisbane, where he lived, and it was a notebook which had a papier-mâché face on the front that seemed to sprout out of the cover - a wizened face, crinkly and full of character, with beady eyes, smile lines, pursed lips and a giant nose - which was what I used to pull the book open!

This book lay empty for about a year while I decided what to do with it. It seemed far too special to just write my diary in. One day I realised what I wanted to use it for - I had a grotty old notebook that I used to copy down poems I liked, or quotes. Perhaps it would be more fitting to write down things that were meaningful to me in this special book. So that's what I did. I was an incredibly sentimental young thing - probably more suited to living in the Edwardian era really - and copied down things I liked, sometimes drawing pictures to go with them. While I still used it as a poem collection book, slowly I just started writing down quotes that were meaningful to me, that made something in my head click, that made me think yes.

The book is now somewhere in my parents garage....I'd love to find it again.

I'm still a collector of quotes today. These days they tend to be saved in word documents marked "inspiring" or copied down in large, loopy me-trying-to-be-artistic letters in my journal. There are so many I love, but these are some of my favourites - either hoarded and remembered for years that I have turned to in dark times, or recent favourites (Megg always has some gems!) or some that just make me laugh.

These are a few of my favourites:

“…like attracts like: If you want the real deal, you have to become the real deal yourself.” – Sera Beak

"I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they're right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together."

- Marilyn Monroe

"When you really want to do something, in your heart of hearts, you will find a way. But if you don't really want to do something, you will always find an excuse."

- Pat Farmer, Australian ultra marathon runner & MP

"It is never too late to be what you might have been."

- George Eliot

"I would rather be ashes than dust." - Jack London

"Family. Religion. Friendship.

These are the three demons you must slay if you wish to succeed in business."

- C. Montgomery Burns

"Freedom... means knowing who you are, what you are supposed to be doing

on this earth, and then simply doing it."

- Natalie Goldberg

"I can't be sacked, you see, because I haven't got a job.

Therefore, I'll continue to say whatever I like."

- Harold Pinter

"I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.

I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life.

I've learned that making a "living" is not the same thing as making a "life."

I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.

I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catcher's mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back.

I've learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart,

I usually make the right decision.

I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one.

I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.

I've learned that I still have a lot to learn. I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

— Maya Angelou

What's your favourite quote? Please share :)

things i love #24

2010-05-24T20:52:00.012+01:00

Images from weheartit.com

Sushi!

I had never had it until I was about...17?! Once I had, I was hooked!

I've never been to Japan (it's on the wish list!), so the best sushi I've ever had has been in Melbourne, where it is cheap, fresh and plentiful, and in Canada. On my trip there in 2007, friends in Vancouver took me to The Eatery, which was by far the coolest, funkiest sushi place I've ever been to! You can browse the menu online - tell me you don't want to go there! We ordered a whole selection of their "funky creations" and it came out for the three of us on one giant platter, as below:

Look how happy I am!! It was so delicious!

Even though we ate sushi like there was no tomorrow, I recall we had room for a deep fried Mars Bar! A rich, coconut flecked batter surrounded the melted caramel and chocolate inside, the richness cut by cool, sweet vanilla icecream. We also had Sake Bombs - a shot of sake dropped into a pint of beer! As if the fabulous food wasn't enough reason to go there, the decor of The Eatery was also awe-inspiring, full of Astro Boy figurines, Warhol-esque pop art and papier mache octopi dangling from the ceiling! There was also a speed dating session going on in one part of the restaurant the night we were there, which proved to be interesting viewing while waiting for the food, I remember!!

And then there was Kanda - the best sushi in Montreal. You pay $20CAD and it's all you can eat - the menu at the table is an order form, which you fill in and then hand to your waiter, and then it's made fresh and brought out. A warning, you are charged extra if you don't eat your entire order, to discourage waste! A very sensible policy, I thought! We didn't leave a thing....but I was stuffed to the brim and beyond.

There must be a thousand places you get can sushi in Melbourne, but Plush Fish is my favourite, on the University campus. Fresh, filling and utterly addictive! I liked the seaweed salad and inari from there too.

And here in London, Yo Sushi has been my pick! This is the aftermath of a typical visit there for us:

Ha ha!

When I came home from my Arvon course, Tom had ordered Yo Sushi takeaway, and also had champagne on ice! What a spoiled girl I am. This is our favourite takeaway from there:

The veggie box!

Feng Sushi in Notting Hill is also excellent - some girl friends and I went there after seeing the first Sex and the City movie two years ago. A sushi situation?! It seemed appropriate!

I also love the sushi you can get at the Japan Centre. I also usually stock up on the soy sauces, noodles, kewpie mayonnaise and other delights you can get there!!

As for making my own sushi - I tried, many years ago, but always overfilled the rolls and they fell apart! I relied on the generosity of friends who were much more gifted in the homemade sushi department than I. I think my sister Claire is now the proud owner of my make-you-own sushi kit!!

What about you? Are you a sushi fan?

things i love #23

2010-05-23T21:12:00.006+01:00

Images above from weheartit.com

This image by me!

Sunny afternoons.

I had something else planned for this post but have been so energised and dosed up on happy vibes because of this glorious hot sunny weather London has been blessed with over the last 36 hours that this had to be today's things i love.

I love, love, love sunny afternoons. It doesn't necessarily have to be hot too - some of my favourite weather back home in Tassie occurs towards the end of August, where it is still winter and the air is still icy and crisp, but the sun comes out in the mid afternoon and showers the bare trees, mountains, pavements, houses and winter-ravaged faces with golden magic. Those were afternoons where I just loved living in Tassie - well, loved living, full stop.

But heat definitely is a plus!

I've missed the sunshine and heat over the last six months or so. Winter was so bitterly cold - I bunkered down with layers upon layers of clothes; my hands constantly cupped around a mug of something, anything, warm; the memories of lying on a beach in Portugal or drinking Pimm's on my patio last July seemed very, very far away.

Over the last few days, London seems to have shed the last of its winter blankets and revealed a brilliant blue cloudless sky, sun that made everything in its path golden and sparkling, and a blissful heat that seeped into the air that carries smells like barbecues, fresh grass, honeysuckle, beer, strawberries and sunscreen.

Yesterday we spent the sunny afternoon in Hampstead, having pints in the sun, and then walking to Camden Markets which, although very crowded, were great fun and like being at a festival filled with charcoal barbecues, cocktail shakers and music playing in the streets. Today we stayed closer to home and spent the afternoon in St James's Park with books (me) and sketch pad (Tom) on a patch of cool, sweet smelling grass. I eventually abandoned my book and gazed up at the sky veined with leafy green branches, singing this song to myself:

I've also had this song on replay most of the day - perfect for lazy sunny afternoons:

I think Henry James got it spot on.

"Summer afternoon....summer afternoon...the two most beautiful words in the English language."

What is your favourite weather? Are you a sucker for sunny afternoons like me?

happy dance, or things i love #22

2010-05-23T00:46:00.004+01:00

Image via weheartit.com

Sorry for lack of proper things i love post today, but have been preoccupied with sunshine and novel writing. About an hour ago I decided to try and break the barrier of 10,000 words. The document was sitting on just over 8000 words. Wrote and wrote and wrote. Am afraid that whoever reads my first draft will think I am obsessed with food, because every second paragraph seems to contain a description of it in some way. Tweeted my progress and got some virtual cheers and hugs as I got closer and closer!

Finally I reached a point where my fingers and brain seemed aligned and the words just flowed like the maple syrup I plan to pour on pancakes tomorrow (today).....final word count tonight is 10,160.

YEAH!

Happy dance!!

Image from kissesandcrossstitches

So, things I love #22 is.....

writing.

When I'm on a roll, at least! Since Arvon I've just been filled with ideas and not been afraid to run with them. But two weeks ago I was rereading my favourite Lisa Jewell novel and just thought I could write something like this. So I started. Two weeks later I'm sitting on over 10,000 words. I really could kick myself for having wasted so much time over the last couple of years. But better late than never I suppose!

Hope you're having a happy weekend my friends!

things i love #21

2010-05-21T22:46:00.004+01:00

All images from weheartit.com

Wine.

I absolutely love wine. It's a passion that has deepened as I've got older, and my palate has rejected all the sugary vodka drinks I used to think were the height of sophistication as a teenager!

I can't really remember the moment where I decided wine was the way to go - I remember being about 23 and having had one too many Midori and lemonades in my time, so the grassy, lemony notes of a Sauvignon Blanc were a revelation. Wine made my palate wake up, sharpen and come alive. Touring the vineyards of West Auckland when I was 24 made me love and appreciate wine in a completely new way. I also used to love spending a weekend touring wineries around Melbourne when I lived there. I still remember the Craiglee chardonnay we tasted at a winery just outside Sunbury. It had flavours of melon and hazelnut, and was incredibly creamy.

My parents love wine too -when they came to visit me in Melbourne once, they discovered that their favourite drop from Margaret River, Mad Fish Premium White, was about $5 cheaper in Victoria than it was in Tassie, so we drove all over the place buying as many bottles as possible - we ended up with about 14 in the end!

When it comes to wine there is very little that I won't try - in fact, once I've had a few glasses I need very little persuasion! - but I do have many favourites. I love fruity Italian reds, gutsy Australian pinots, and basically any wine from New Zealand! I've had some delicious reds and whites from Chile, and recently did a wine tasting in Puglia, Southern Italy, which was one of the most memorable experiences of my life:

I really like dessert wine too - I'm a real port gal - and I still have the bottle of Aleatico Passito from Castel di Salve I got from this winery in Italy last year, waiting for the right occasion!

It's been one of my aims to expand my horizons a little and learn a bit more about wine - dear kind Sas gave me a voucher for the West London Wine School a little while ago, and I've finally decided on a course to do!

But seeing my course is still a month away, especially for this things i love post, I sought out the expertise of Green Ink reader, wine educator and enthusiast, and all round bonne vivante Nicole Davis who I regularly turn to with any wine-related query! She very kindly gave me her tips on wine tasting and appreciation to share with you all. To start with, Nicole recommends using a clear, slightly oversized glass so you have some room to get your nose in there and enjoy the smells (!) and not wearing perfume to a wine tasting, as if it's overpowering it can sometimes get in the way.

The key things, Nicole says, that you want to think about with wine tasting are:

Colour (appearance)

Does it sparkle and is it bright and light? It’s probably a young wine. If your red wine is more a dull brick red then it’s probably older. What you see to start with can give you some good clues of what to expect when you smell and taste.

Smell (nose)

Here it’s good to be a cook! It’s all about the similes. If it's spicy like pepper, that could be shiraz. If it's grassy it's probably a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. And that smell of vanilla in my red wine? That means that it has been aged in French Oak barrels.

An aroma list matched to different wine grapes (like this guide http://www.essentialwinetastingguide.com) can be helpful while you are learning. And, of course, take time to savour your food and wine. We all have a sensory memory and it only really works if you keep using it – a great reason to keep trying new things!

Taste (palate)

Here is where it gets fun! Tasting tells you things that the smells can’t but is the least evocative of the 3 areas. Your palate is actually very black and white. Is this sweet, sour, acidic, tannic? These things make up the structure of the wine. A well made wine has some “punch” at the front, but is not too aggressive on your palate and finishes in a way that is cleansing and refreshing, making you want another mouthful. As you get better at tasting, you can identify these feelings or textures in your mouth, which will help you know which wine you like and why. When you know what you like, picking a bottle of wine is so much more enjoyable and satisfying.

As with everything, remember that wine tasting is not a test. It's fun! Try different wines when you get a chance. Next time you're out, pick a glass of wine that you have never tried rather than sticking to an old favourite. Sometimes you might not like it but it's only one glass and if you think about what you didn’t like you can avoid those styles again.

Here is a longer online summary of wine tasting:

http://www.visitvineyards.com/wine/wine-courses/wine-food-travel-articles/wine-education-how-to-taste-jancis-robinson

Many thanks to Nicole for sharing her tasting tips!

~ ~ ~ ~

Wine is fast becoming a huge interest of mine, and makes the perfect partner to my other obsession - cheese! It's so incredibly intriguing, the more you know the more there is to know. I guess the things I've learned over the years is to trust your palate, ignore the clichés (like "wine gets better with age", it turns out only some do) and never be afraid to try something different. It's been by trying something different that I've discovered wines that are now among my favourites!

Do you like drinking wine too? What's your favourite drop? All recommendations eagerly welcomed!

things i love #20

2010-05-20T12:19:00.000+01:00

Images via weheartit.com
and Indian Incense

Scented candles, incense, essential oils.

Anything that makes my home smell gorgeous, in other words!

When I get home at the end of the day and am ready to relax, I light candles. Some people pour a glass of wine, or drop some icecubes and squeeze a lime into a g&t - me, I want sandalwood incense purring through the air, or lavender and ylang ylang oil burning. It's a meditative act, I think. It grounds me.

I think candles and incense make a lovely souvenir from a place you've visited too. This was the incense section of a market in Brussels I went to (home of the puppets!) and I eagerly filled a bag of delicious sticks to take home:

When we go to visit Tom's parents in Wales, there is a new age shop in the village near them which sells great incense, and we usually stock up there. There's always incense in our Christmas stockings too :)

On my most recent trip back to Australia, I noticed my mother burning candles that had the most divine scent. I asked her what they were and they were from Dusk, in the Tibet scent - which is lychee and black tea. It smells heavenly. When Tom and I went to Melbourne for a few days on our way back to London, I descended upon the Dusk in Melbourne Central and stocked up! I found the little melts that you put on top of oil burners the easiest way to transport a lot of them back to the UK. I ration them carefully, and the drawer I keep them in has the most beautiful smell every time I open it. It makes me think of home now :)

Images from Dusk Australia

My favourite incense by far is Nag Champa, which you can get very easily over here, for about £1 a box. It smells especially lovely if you have a pot of coffee brewing or a cake in the oven! I especially love to burn it while I'm doing yoga.

My favourite oils to burn are lavender, orange, rosemary, ylang ylang and rose. Sometimes I combine them, sometimes I burn them on their own. There's also nothing like burning some tea tree or eucalpytus oil in the kitchen or bathroom to disinfect or get rid of an undesirable smell!

Do you like incense, candles and oils too? What are you favourite brands/scents? Which scents do you find are most relaxing?