Right...well it's rabbit season, and the phrase "breed like rabbits" means so much more to me now. They are literally everywhere around our house and neighborhood. Most of the Australians hate them; although, to be fair, I haven't seen anyone trying to kill them except when Jamie speeds up in the car rather than slowing down or swerving. Turns out, there is a huge amount of animosity built up around here when it comes to rabbits. You see, rabbits aren't native to Australia. The "Poms," aka British, brought them over to hunt. When they realized there weren't any natural predators to keep the rabbit ecosystem in check, they brought in foxes. Crazy right? I wish I could say it got better, but how ever many years later, Australia is overrun by rabbits, particularly the small town we live in. I started out thinking they were pretty cute, and they are, but I soon learned that they're pretty sneaky and destructive. I've seen a rabbit jump up on its hind legs and fight a kangaroo. Ok ok, so now I'm just being ridiculous, but seriously, they come right up on our front porch and eat what little of the rose bushes the kangaroos did leave behind. There is a nest of bunnies underneath the foot bridge in our garden and every time you get anywhere close about fifteen rabbits start running all over the yard. Does anyone have a good recipe for rabbit stew?
Secondly, all my followers can post a congratulations. Our yard is starting to look so good. Thanks to Jamie and the rabbits' help with the weeding, I can walk out onto the veranda and proudly smile if the neighbors are waving across the fence line. Also, I'm able to have my hand within inches of our friendly lizards without having a heart attack. I'm by no means getting a tan, but I've been spending at least an hour a day in the sunshine and garden and I expect wonderful results soon.
For all of you who are burning with curiosity about my permanent residency visa, Lord willing after our appointment with the immigration department on the 3rd, our part will be finished. You can't understand how good it makes me feel to finally have all the red-tape and paperwork almost finished. I had my health examination last Tuesday, and four hours and two parking tickets later, I was deemed healthy. Phew! It was a routine check that was necessary before the immigration office can give me a clearance; along with my background check from the FBI. I'm a little nervous about the FBI bit. ;)
That's all for now folks. Tune in next time for more scintillating updates, and until then...
"Don't worry. Be Happy." (sung by that crazy fish that hangs on rednecks' trophy wall)
Saturday 22 October 2011
Saturday 24 September 2011
Weeds...You Goin' Down
Well, not a whole lot has happened this last week, but I think it was probably the best week I've had in a while. Firstly, because I've started going to the gym with Jamie's cousin, Kirsten. She's expecting her first baby in January so she's been going to the gym so she can swim in the heated pool; I'm going so I can drown in my own sweat. I didn't realized until I got on the treadmill how important it is that I should know by now how to convert kilometers into miles. I had no idea how far or how fast I was going. I did realize that after I had run an entire kilometer in less than five minutes that it was definitely gone less than a mile. Just so everyone is clear, one mile is 2.6 kilometers. My next realization was that after being in Australia for eight months I really need to figure out how many pounds a kilo is. I felt like every eye in the room was staring at me as I tried to pick up the 22 kilo dumbbells in each hand. Who knew 22 kilos was close to 50 pounds?! You can only imagine me dropping one and having to use both hands to pick it up and replace it on the shelf. I did have a pretty intense work-out and felt pretty good about myself as I hobbled around the house for the next two days.
On the plus side, day two at the gym was much more exciting. For the first 45 minutes I was probably the only person in the room under 50. It was a nice feeling that all the pain I was going through from my last work-out was paying off as I ran next to a man who was walking at 1.8 miles an hour. Just so you can picture how slow that is, I googled the speed of an average turtle and the first number I saw was 1.0mph. As if that didn't make me feel like a spartan, a lady from Portugal came up and asked if I was a dancer. Keep in mind that the show on the overhead TV was "Dancing With the Stars." I literally laughed out loud and she proceeded to tell me about the free couples dancing classes she's been taking with her husband, and it was a great place to make new friends. Who needs couples dancing when you can meet complete strangers in a gym?
Secondly, I've started weeding my garden. Jamie was able to get the brush cutter(weed eater) working and I hacked away at the jungle in my back yard. In case you've forgotten from my very first blog, the entire yard is called your garden and you have a separate vegetable garden. The lady next door was spraying the microscopic weeds in her yard and since I was having such an energetic week it inspired me to start bulldozing through our weeds. I've put a lovely dent in all the work and then hand weeded the flower beds. Applause is appropriate at this point :). Thank you...
Thirdly, after it rained for almost a week straight, I've finished the laundry. I know it might not sound like a big deal, but we don't use the dryer in the laundry room. Everything gets to hang out on the line, and because Jamie informed me that he was running low on even his "famine" underwear, it was imperative that I get his clothes clean and DRY. When I woke up to the sun pouring through the window at 6:15 yesterday morning, I knew it was laundry day. It's officially folded and put away now so I'll be fine if it rains again starting tomorrow.
I hope this next week will be just as lovely. I've got fairly big plans and goals so with a good attitude I should be able to check everything off my list. Hopefully, your week will be as fulfilling and relaxing as mine was. For those of you who may have just finished a really lousy week, keep your chin up; the rain will clear up soon!
Side note: Jamie and I finally found a video game we can play together!!!!! SingStar Abba! Thanks, Dad, for teaching me what good music is all about.
On the plus side, day two at the gym was much more exciting. For the first 45 minutes I was probably the only person in the room under 50. It was a nice feeling that all the pain I was going through from my last work-out was paying off as I ran next to a man who was walking at 1.8 miles an hour. Just so you can picture how slow that is, I googled the speed of an average turtle and the first number I saw was 1.0mph. As if that didn't make me feel like a spartan, a lady from Portugal came up and asked if I was a dancer. Keep in mind that the show on the overhead TV was "Dancing With the Stars." I literally laughed out loud and she proceeded to tell me about the free couples dancing classes she's been taking with her husband, and it was a great place to make new friends. Who needs couples dancing when you can meet complete strangers in a gym?
Secondly, I've started weeding my garden. Jamie was able to get the brush cutter(weed eater) working and I hacked away at the jungle in my back yard. In case you've forgotten from my very first blog, the entire yard is called your garden and you have a separate vegetable garden. The lady next door was spraying the microscopic weeds in her yard and since I was having such an energetic week it inspired me to start bulldozing through our weeds. I've put a lovely dent in all the work and then hand weeded the flower beds. Applause is appropriate at this point :). Thank you...
Thirdly, after it rained for almost a week straight, I've finished the laundry. I know it might not sound like a big deal, but we don't use the dryer in the laundry room. Everything gets to hang out on the line, and because Jamie informed me that he was running low on even his "famine" underwear, it was imperative that I get his clothes clean and DRY. When I woke up to the sun pouring through the window at 6:15 yesterday morning, I knew it was laundry day. It's officially folded and put away now so I'll be fine if it rains again starting tomorrow.
I hope this next week will be just as lovely. I've got fairly big plans and goals so with a good attitude I should be able to check everything off my list. Hopefully, your week will be as fulfilling and relaxing as mine was. For those of you who may have just finished a really lousy week, keep your chin up; the rain will clear up soon!
Side note: Jamie and I finally found a video game we can play together!!!!! SingStar Abba! Thanks, Dad, for teaching me what good music is all about.
Thursday 15 September 2011
Back Roads and Beaches
Upon my return from my trip to the states, Jamie decided we needed to take a vacation. He's been working so hard and with my being gone he had extra duties around the house that I'm sure were a bit overwhelming. So even though I had technically been on vacation for just under two months, I unpacked and re-packed for a trip to Augusta.
Augusta is the most south-westerly tip of Australia. I heard a tour guide say that it was the closest we would get to Antarctica from this side of the country which I found pretty cool. I know what you're thinking though; it must be cold since it's winter over here. The weather was fantastic and other than a bit of rain here and there it was pretty ideal for a vacation. We were on the coast obviously so it was still a bit too cool to actually play in the water, but as surprising as it may seem the Southern Ocean is pretty warm year round. That statement might be a bit contradictory; I guess what I'm trying to say is even at it's coldest the Southern Ocean is not as cold as the Pacific in the middle of July.
On a side note, we stayed in the Best Western. I thought it was kinda funny that we were staying in an American chain hotel, but then again hotels are a lot different over here. Yes, there are typical three story or sky rise hotels, but mostly when you show up for the weekend, a hotel is more of a motel. It's more like a small apartment really instead of the typical American, Best Western, complete with continental breakfast. By the way, free continental breakfasts are just that, continental. You have to pay for everything in Australia, and while you don't have to tip anyone, it's added into the outrageous prices. I can't complain too much though since I noticed that the economy here is doing much better than what I saw back home.
Anyways, back to the beach; we had a lovely time touring all over Augusta, and Jamie took me to see a lighthouse. It's the tallest building in Western Australia and I think someone said it was the first lighthouse on the west coast. Either way, it was pretty cool that it's still standing and used today. We got stuck on a tour with two 70-year-old couples from Melbourne, and while I don't mind be patient for elders, it took us about ten times as long to climb the stairs as it would have normally. It was pretty cute though because the two little old men were carrying the purses for their spouses and very politely pushing their back-sides up the next flight of stairs. Needless to say, Jamie insisted I stop giggling at all their funny antics.
We also got to go on the cave tours. There are over 300 caves on the west coast, and three of them are world-renowned. The first cave we saw, Jewel Cave, has the longest "straw"(pencil-like stalactite) which Jamie took about a million pictures of. (I'm so glad digital cameras have delete buttons.) Then on to Lake Cave and Mammoth Cave. There were are pretty spectacular in their own way, but of the three I've got to say that Lake Cave was the most memorable. We climbed over 300 stairs to get down there, and surprise, you have to climb them all the way back up. Jamie and I decided that rather than pausing at each level with all the middle-aged couples, we would just take it all in one jaunt. Guess who felt like a 90 year-old woman the next day?! All of a sudden the two little women at the lighthouse had a new level of respect in my book. It's funny how it all comes back to bite you in the face.
We took cereal and sandwich goods with us so that we could splurge a little bit for eating out at dinnertime. The first night was Italian which we both love and just to switch things up since we were on vacation I decided to try something new. With all the cooking I've been doing recently, I've been a bit more brave in the things I try to eat knowing that Jamie has been my guinea pig lately. I had seafood risotto for dinner and just as I was explaining how it tasted too fishy I realized there were three squid in my bowl. Explanation: I love calamari; but this was not calamari. They were still purple complete with heads and tentacles. I did not eat anymore seafood risotto and instead finished my water and watched Jamie eat his mouth-watering lamb shank.
I've saved the best story for last. If you've read this far then I know you'll love this. On the second evening of our vacation, we took a stroll down the beach to the point where Margaret River meets the ocean. It was already a pretty awe-inspiring picture with the sun setting and the salty sea breeze when a dolphin jumped out of the water way out on the horizon. Within five minutes there were three dolphins and they were headed in land as if they were herding some fish for dinner. Between my squealing and tugging on his arm like a child, Jamie's first four attempts at a video were hopeless. It really was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. We ran as fast as we could in the direction that the dolphins were herding and by the time we were stopped and out of breath, they were so close we could have touched them. I was still in shock and wonder when we turned to go back to the car and realized our shoes were soaked since we ran straight through the marshes of seaweed. Gross.
Our trip home was lovely. We took the back roads and got to see some of the farms and country towns we live close too. The flowers and forests were in full bloom and made for a perfect ending to our weekend. I can't wait to take all my friends and family to see all these places when they come to visit someday.
Augusta is the most south-westerly tip of Australia. I heard a tour guide say that it was the closest we would get to Antarctica from this side of the country which I found pretty cool. I know what you're thinking though; it must be cold since it's winter over here. The weather was fantastic and other than a bit of rain here and there it was pretty ideal for a vacation. We were on the coast obviously so it was still a bit too cool to actually play in the water, but as surprising as it may seem the Southern Ocean is pretty warm year round. That statement might be a bit contradictory; I guess what I'm trying to say is even at it's coldest the Southern Ocean is not as cold as the Pacific in the middle of July.
On a side note, we stayed in the Best Western. I thought it was kinda funny that we were staying in an American chain hotel, but then again hotels are a lot different over here. Yes, there are typical three story or sky rise hotels, but mostly when you show up for the weekend, a hotel is more of a motel. It's more like a small apartment really instead of the typical American, Best Western, complete with continental breakfast. By the way, free continental breakfasts are just that, continental. You have to pay for everything in Australia, and while you don't have to tip anyone, it's added into the outrageous prices. I can't complain too much though since I noticed that the economy here is doing much better than what I saw back home.
Anyways, back to the beach; we had a lovely time touring all over Augusta, and Jamie took me to see a lighthouse. It's the tallest building in Western Australia and I think someone said it was the first lighthouse on the west coast. Either way, it was pretty cool that it's still standing and used today. We got stuck on a tour with two 70-year-old couples from Melbourne, and while I don't mind be patient for elders, it took us about ten times as long to climb the stairs as it would have normally. It was pretty cute though because the two little old men were carrying the purses for their spouses and very politely pushing their back-sides up the next flight of stairs. Needless to say, Jamie insisted I stop giggling at all their funny antics.
We also got to go on the cave tours. There are over 300 caves on the west coast, and three of them are world-renowned. The first cave we saw, Jewel Cave, has the longest "straw"(pencil-like stalactite) which Jamie took about a million pictures of. (I'm so glad digital cameras have delete buttons.) Then on to Lake Cave and Mammoth Cave. There were are pretty spectacular in their own way, but of the three I've got to say that Lake Cave was the most memorable. We climbed over 300 stairs to get down there, and surprise, you have to climb them all the way back up. Jamie and I decided that rather than pausing at each level with all the middle-aged couples, we would just take it all in one jaunt. Guess who felt like a 90 year-old woman the next day?! All of a sudden the two little women at the lighthouse had a new level of respect in my book. It's funny how it all comes back to bite you in the face.
We took cereal and sandwich goods with us so that we could splurge a little bit for eating out at dinnertime. The first night was Italian which we both love and just to switch things up since we were on vacation I decided to try something new. With all the cooking I've been doing recently, I've been a bit more brave in the things I try to eat knowing that Jamie has been my guinea pig lately. I had seafood risotto for dinner and just as I was explaining how it tasted too fishy I realized there were three squid in my bowl. Explanation: I love calamari; but this was not calamari. They were still purple complete with heads and tentacles. I did not eat anymore seafood risotto and instead finished my water and watched Jamie eat his mouth-watering lamb shank.
I've saved the best story for last. If you've read this far then I know you'll love this. On the second evening of our vacation, we took a stroll down the beach to the point where Margaret River meets the ocean. It was already a pretty awe-inspiring picture with the sun setting and the salty sea breeze when a dolphin jumped out of the water way out on the horizon. Within five minutes there were three dolphins and they were headed in land as if they were herding some fish for dinner. Between my squealing and tugging on his arm like a child, Jamie's first four attempts at a video were hopeless. It really was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. We ran as fast as we could in the direction that the dolphins were herding and by the time we were stopped and out of breath, they were so close we could have touched them. I was still in shock and wonder when we turned to go back to the car and realized our shoes were soaked since we ran straight through the marshes of seaweed. Gross.
Our trip home was lovely. We took the back roads and got to see some of the farms and country towns we live close too. The flowers and forests were in full bloom and made for a perfect ending to our weekend. I can't wait to take all my friends and family to see all these places when they come to visit someday.
Tuesday 13 September 2011
Life as We Know It
It's been a while...I know...let's skip this bit and say it was just yesterday. A lot has happened in the last few months; I'm sure everyone can say that. I'll not bore you with the horrendous details about the plane trip, but I just had a lovely trip back home to see my parents and family. It really was a fantastic trip and it was great to finally meet baby Isaiah. He's such a cutie and I didn't even mind waking up every two hours to his tiny infant screams, and I actually enjoyed him sleeping on my tummy at 5:30 a.m. after his poor mommy was exhausted. Jodie is a beautiful mother and it was such a blessing to spend time with them even if I bawled worse than Isaiah when it was time to leave.
I also got to spend a bit of time with Aaron even though Mom and I had to suck up the tears and send him off to college. I think his roomates thought we were a bit too attached, but they had forgotten all about me apparently because the next time they saw me I was mistaken for Aaron's girlfriend. It had never occured to me that only girls check for other girls wedding rings.
This blog would get way too long if I went into detail about everyone I visited while I was in the states. I think everyone that saw me could tell how happy I was to be back and see Mom and Dad and Papa and Mema. Before I forget, I did get to spend some time in Nathan and Savannah's sweet new house, and just so everyone's clear, Nathan's completely immune to the side-effects of anesthesea. Other than mild rage issues directed at the car he insisted I bulldoze over, our trip home from getting his wisdom teeth removed was ridiculously uneventful. Also, I liked driving his truck. It had been a while since I had driven a good ole American, Ford.
Anyways, it's back to the land down under. I had lots of people remind me that I had a blog and that I needed to keep up with it better. Consider this my reinstatement, and forgive my tardiness.
It's spring here in Australia and as I've heard from the lady next door in about fifty different signals the weeds are really bad this year. I'm not sure if she got the memo that I'm not a professional at this gardening stuff, and she definitely missed the memo that I'm not super-woman and I've been gone for two months. Needless to say, our yard is worse than the Amazon rain forest, and I'm REALLY REALLY embarassed. Jamie and I got up early Saturday morning and we barely had our sleeves rolled up and our hands in the dirt for more than fifteen minutes when I started crying in dispair. The man next door came out to dump something in his compost and asked me how I was doing. I just stood there for about fifteen seconds fighting all the sarcastic things I wanted to say while I was standing in waist high weeds. Let's just move on. (I really hope the man next door doesn't read this what with it being on the world-wide-web and all.)
The dogs are happy I'm home, Jamie is extatic that I'm home, and the house is practically beaming now that I'm back home. I think I'm not over the hill yet, but I think I'm well on my way to settling here in Jarrahdale. Thanks to some encouraging words from my dad and the trip back to the states to check if my family was alright, I can now buckle down and call this home. It is really, and I think a good dose of being a way for a tad bit too long was just the right medicine. I didn't realize just how needed I was here, and while a part of me will always be permantly tied to the places and people in the U.S.A., it's nice to know I can make new ties here. Yes, I miss everything. Yes, I want to come back. Yes, Jamie will have to give me a big box of tissues and then some chocolate every three weeks to cheer me up, but I'm happy. Who knew happiness was a choice?
I'll leave the rest of what's on my mind for next time, but because I miss country music so much, I want to leave you with a song title that means a lot to me :).
"Stand" by Rascall Flatts
I also got to spend a bit of time with Aaron even though Mom and I had to suck up the tears and send him off to college. I think his roomates thought we were a bit too attached, but they had forgotten all about me apparently because the next time they saw me I was mistaken for Aaron's girlfriend. It had never occured to me that only girls check for other girls wedding rings.
This blog would get way too long if I went into detail about everyone I visited while I was in the states. I think everyone that saw me could tell how happy I was to be back and see Mom and Dad and Papa and Mema. Before I forget, I did get to spend some time in Nathan and Savannah's sweet new house, and just so everyone's clear, Nathan's completely immune to the side-effects of anesthesea. Other than mild rage issues directed at the car he insisted I bulldoze over, our trip home from getting his wisdom teeth removed was ridiculously uneventful. Also, I liked driving his truck. It had been a while since I had driven a good ole American, Ford.
Anyways, it's back to the land down under. I had lots of people remind me that I had a blog and that I needed to keep up with it better. Consider this my reinstatement, and forgive my tardiness.
It's spring here in Australia and as I've heard from the lady next door in about fifty different signals the weeds are really bad this year. I'm not sure if she got the memo that I'm not a professional at this gardening stuff, and she definitely missed the memo that I'm not super-woman and I've been gone for two months. Needless to say, our yard is worse than the Amazon rain forest, and I'm REALLY REALLY embarassed. Jamie and I got up early Saturday morning and we barely had our sleeves rolled up and our hands in the dirt for more than fifteen minutes when I started crying in dispair. The man next door came out to dump something in his compost and asked me how I was doing. I just stood there for about fifteen seconds fighting all the sarcastic things I wanted to say while I was standing in waist high weeds. Let's just move on. (I really hope the man next door doesn't read this what with it being on the world-wide-web and all.)
The dogs are happy I'm home, Jamie is extatic that I'm home, and the house is practically beaming now that I'm back home. I think I'm not over the hill yet, but I think I'm well on my way to settling here in Jarrahdale. Thanks to some encouraging words from my dad and the trip back to the states to check if my family was alright, I can now buckle down and call this home. It is really, and I think a good dose of being a way for a tad bit too long was just the right medicine. I didn't realize just how needed I was here, and while a part of me will always be permantly tied to the places and people in the U.S.A., it's nice to know I can make new ties here. Yes, I miss everything. Yes, I want to come back. Yes, Jamie will have to give me a big box of tissues and then some chocolate every three weeks to cheer me up, but I'm happy. Who knew happiness was a choice?
I'll leave the rest of what's on my mind for next time, but because I miss country music so much, I want to leave you with a song title that means a lot to me :).
"Stand" by Rascall Flatts
Tuesday 10 May 2011
What's Cookin'
I haven't been very faithful to my blog. I knew it would be this way, and my sister keeps asking if I've given up on it, but I have to have inspiration. I'm sure you can understand that I don't wake up every morning, crack my knuckles, put on some spectacles, grab a coffee and start writing a novel. It's not that easy to come up with a new adventure every day. I started this blog to give my family and friends back home a little bit of insight into my life since I don't live next door, and so I would have a somewhat consistent routine like my garden.
I think in today's blog I'll start off by giving a couple of tid-bits you may not have known about me. I love to cook. Let me qualify that statement by saying I hate to clean up my mess after I'm done cooking. I'm sure at least a few of my readers can relate to that satisfying experience of cooking a new recipe and being rewarded by someone at the table stopping after the first bite to say, "This is delicious." It's just a warm feeling. Also, let me clarify and explain that I haven't really been cooking for that long. My mother is an excellent cook and of course I was raised to help in the kitchen, but having a big family and a couple of picky brothers, my experiences were limited and usually burned to a crisp. I remember one year, Nathan was giving a sermon in Ozark, Missouri and it somehow tied into his sermon to explain to the crowd that once his little sister had left the sugar out of the cheesecake she made. It was a mortifying moment because all the young men were sitting on the front row and staring straight at innocent me.
Anyways, I've been branching out in the last few years and I've finally perfected chocolate chip cookies. So it's been a bit of an experience being married and knowing that the evening meal relies solely on my talent. It's been a lot of fun so far and if I do say so myself I've done pretty well. At least Jamie is happy, and the few dinner guests we've had complimented me. A huge thanks to my Aunt Dorothy who gave me a stack of recipes before the wedding, and my wonderful mother who put together a book of recipes from my grandma, sister, aunts and friends.
Here are a couple of mine and Jamie's favourites. As it turns out, they are lots of fun to prepare and even more fun to eat. Note: if you ever happen to meet two huge marshmallows from Australia, and they look kinda like what Jamie and Elizabeth used to look like, it's probably us. Ha! Just kidding, but seriously, if you're going to spend this much time cooking and eating, get some walking shoes and take your dogs out regularly.
Can't Leave Alone Bars:
Kitchen of Michelle Nichols Serves: 3 dozen
1 pkg (18.250 oz) white cake mix
2 eggs
1/3 c. oil
1 can (14oz) sweetened condensed milk
1 c. semi sweet chocolate chips
1/4 c. butter, cubed
1. Preheat oven to 350*F (180-200*C)
2. Mix dry cake mix, eggs, and oil. With floured hands press 2/3 of the mix into a greased 13x9 pan. Set remaining mix aside.
3. In a microwave safe bowl, combine milk, chocolate chips, and butter. Heat in the microwave for 45 seconds at a time stirring until melted smooth.
4. Pour over crust
5. Sprinkle remaining cake mixture on top
6. Bake for 20-30 minutes or until lightly browned.
(Jamie absolutely loves these bars and they are so so easy to make :)
Chicken Parmesan Subs
Kitchen of Jodie Battey/Hernandez (Rachael Ray) Serves: 6-8
3-4 hogie rolls (call them what you want...they're little sub sandwitch rolls)
2 Tbls. extra virgin olive oil
4 cloves fresh garlic
2 can chopped/diced tomatoes
salt and pepper
crushed red pepper
oregano
4-5 thin chicken cutlets (I just use chicken breasts. To make them thinner cut the breasts in half and tenderize them with a meat pounder)
1 c. mozerella cheese (I use more than this but it's up to you how cheesy you want the subs)
1. In a large saucepan, crush three fresh garlic cloves and saute in the olive oil until golden brown.
2. So as not to splatter, carefully pour the can of tomatoes in to the oil and garlic. Add salt, pepper, red pepper and oregano to taste. Let simmer for about 3-5 minutes.
3. Cut the chicken cutlets into strips(kinda like fajitas) and place directly into sauce. Cook chicken until tender or no longer pink
4. Meanwhile, slice the rolls in half and place in oven to toast until light golden brown. Remove from oven
and use remaining clove of garlic to rub on the toast. (this might seem strange, but the garlic melts like butter when you rub it on the bread) Layer half the cheese on your rolls.
5. Spread chicken and tomato sauce on top of the rolls and finish with layer of remaining cheese.
6. Bake at 350*F until cheese is melted on top or until cheese starts to brown.
Enjoy! This is finger licking good!
Chicken Alfredo
(I found this recipe on allrecipes.com) Serves 4
package fettucine noodles
1 c. grated parmesan cheese
1/4 c. butter
1 clove garlic
1 c. thickened cream
2 chicken breasts
1. While the noodles are cooking, saute the crushed garlic in the butter.
2. Add the parmesan and thickened cream, stirring until cheese is melted.
3. Cut the chicken breasts in half and tenderize them with a meat mallet. Cut chicken into bite size pieces and place directly into the sauce. Cook chicken through until tender and no longer pink.
4. Rinse the tender noodles and compine with sauce in a large bowl. Sprinkle some parmesan on top and serve as is. Enjoy!
I hope if you decide to try any of these recipes that you enjoy them as much as I did. Tonight I'm trying a new recipe for calzones and tomorrow night is cheese enchiladas :). Wish me luck!
I think in today's blog I'll start off by giving a couple of tid-bits you may not have known about me. I love to cook. Let me qualify that statement by saying I hate to clean up my mess after I'm done cooking. I'm sure at least a few of my readers can relate to that satisfying experience of cooking a new recipe and being rewarded by someone at the table stopping after the first bite to say, "This is delicious." It's just a warm feeling. Also, let me clarify and explain that I haven't really been cooking for that long. My mother is an excellent cook and of course I was raised to help in the kitchen, but having a big family and a couple of picky brothers, my experiences were limited and usually burned to a crisp. I remember one year, Nathan was giving a sermon in Ozark, Missouri and it somehow tied into his sermon to explain to the crowd that once his little sister had left the sugar out of the cheesecake she made. It was a mortifying moment because all the young men were sitting on the front row and staring straight at innocent me.
Anyways, I've been branching out in the last few years and I've finally perfected chocolate chip cookies. So it's been a bit of an experience being married and knowing that the evening meal relies solely on my talent. It's been a lot of fun so far and if I do say so myself I've done pretty well. At least Jamie is happy, and the few dinner guests we've had complimented me. A huge thanks to my Aunt Dorothy who gave me a stack of recipes before the wedding, and my wonderful mother who put together a book of recipes from my grandma, sister, aunts and friends.
Here are a couple of mine and Jamie's favourites. As it turns out, they are lots of fun to prepare and even more fun to eat. Note: if you ever happen to meet two huge marshmallows from Australia, and they look kinda like what Jamie and Elizabeth used to look like, it's probably us. Ha! Just kidding, but seriously, if you're going to spend this much time cooking and eating, get some walking shoes and take your dogs out regularly.
Can't Leave Alone Bars:
Kitchen of Michelle Nichols Serves: 3 dozen
1 pkg (18.250 oz) white cake mix
2 eggs
1/3 c. oil
1 can (14oz) sweetened condensed milk
1 c. semi sweet chocolate chips
1/4 c. butter, cubed
1. Preheat oven to 350*F (180-200*C)
2. Mix dry cake mix, eggs, and oil. With floured hands press 2/3 of the mix into a greased 13x9 pan. Set remaining mix aside.
3. In a microwave safe bowl, combine milk, chocolate chips, and butter. Heat in the microwave for 45 seconds at a time stirring until melted smooth.
4. Pour over crust
5. Sprinkle remaining cake mixture on top
6. Bake for 20-30 minutes or until lightly browned.
(Jamie absolutely loves these bars and they are so so easy to make :)
Chicken Parmesan Subs
Kitchen of Jodie Battey/Hernandez (Rachael Ray) Serves: 6-8
3-4 hogie rolls (call them what you want...they're little sub sandwitch rolls)
2 Tbls. extra virgin olive oil
4 cloves fresh garlic
2 can chopped/diced tomatoes
salt and pepper
crushed red pepper
oregano
4-5 thin chicken cutlets (I just use chicken breasts. To make them thinner cut the breasts in half and tenderize them with a meat pounder)
1 c. mozerella cheese (I use more than this but it's up to you how cheesy you want the subs)
1. In a large saucepan, crush three fresh garlic cloves and saute in the olive oil until golden brown.
2. So as not to splatter, carefully pour the can of tomatoes in to the oil and garlic. Add salt, pepper, red pepper and oregano to taste. Let simmer for about 3-5 minutes.
3. Cut the chicken cutlets into strips(kinda like fajitas) and place directly into sauce. Cook chicken until tender or no longer pink
4. Meanwhile, slice the rolls in half and place in oven to toast until light golden brown. Remove from oven
and use remaining clove of garlic to rub on the toast. (this might seem strange, but the garlic melts like butter when you rub it on the bread) Layer half the cheese on your rolls.
5. Spread chicken and tomato sauce on top of the rolls and finish with layer of remaining cheese.
6. Bake at 350*F until cheese is melted on top or until cheese starts to brown.
Enjoy! This is finger licking good!
Chicken Alfredo
(I found this recipe on allrecipes.com) Serves 4
package fettucine noodles
1 c. grated parmesan cheese
1/4 c. butter
1 clove garlic
1 c. thickened cream
2 chicken breasts
1. While the noodles are cooking, saute the crushed garlic in the butter.
2. Add the parmesan and thickened cream, stirring until cheese is melted.
3. Cut the chicken breasts in half and tenderize them with a meat mallet. Cut chicken into bite size pieces and place directly into the sauce. Cook chicken through until tender and no longer pink.
4. Rinse the tender noodles and compine with sauce in a large bowl. Sprinkle some parmesan on top and serve as is. Enjoy!
I hope if you decide to try any of these recipes that you enjoy them as much as I did. Tonight I'm trying a new recipe for calzones and tomorrow night is cheese enchiladas :). Wish me luck!
Thursday 14 April 2011
Sunshine and Rain
It's April here in Australia just like it is in America, but being on the opposite side of the globe means we're fast approaching winter. You can't really tell it's Autumn here because the leaves on the trees don't change colour, and so far there hasn't been too many crunching leaves to rake up. Although, I have noticed on our early morning walks that a lot of the gum nut trees are losing their honky nuts (I didn't make that name up; the Aussies really do call them honky nuts). Apparently, we've hit the rainy season, and it couldn't have come sooner because everything was bone dry.
Jamie has a new job now, for which we are so thankful, but just a few weeks ago we had our first real rain storm, and I was left at home alone while the man of the house was on his evening shift. It wasn't really a bad storm, but I don't really do well with thunder and lightning. I've discovered though that if I'm with people, especially little kids, it's not so hard to be brave; there's always someone more terrified than yourself. Even better is the fact that, Felix, our crazy dog, goes ballistic during thunder storms. Sally, the beagle, seems pretty nonchalant about it all, but hey, Felix is running around going bonkers so Sally may as well join him as she usually does.
It took a good ten minutes to chase the dogs down and hide them in the garage. So here I am, holding myself together a little better than our maniac dog, running around the yard packing up lawn chairs, tying down the porch screens, and finally able to grab two smelly wet dogs when the power in the house went out. It wasn't such a huge problem since the sun hadn't gone down completely, but trying to set all the clocks back to military time was a bit frustrating. I've come to appreciate the microwave in the kitchen since it's the only clock in the house I can actually read and comprehend in less than two minutes.
It all worked out beautifully though because just as I was letting the dogs out it was so cool and breezy outside that I put on a raincoat and finished weeding the flower gardens and rock wall in our back yard. Who knew that pulling weeds was a million times easier when the ground is saturated?! Even better was that just about the time I couldn't tell if it was sweat or rain drops dripping off my forehead, I turned around and a gorgeous double rainbow wrapped across the sky in almost a complete arch. It was breathtaking and I remembered just why thunderstorms are so important.
Three weeks and a couple of rain showers later, I have a cute little vegetable garden. I didn't get to grow everything I wanted since it's not all in season, but I have enough to keep me busy. Tonight for dinner we had our first salad with our own home grown lettuce. I'm so proud.
I'm often reminded lately of the song "Here Comes the Sun", because it's just so pretty after a small rain shower.
Jamie has a new job now, for which we are so thankful, but just a few weeks ago we had our first real rain storm, and I was left at home alone while the man of the house was on his evening shift. It wasn't really a bad storm, but I don't really do well with thunder and lightning. I've discovered though that if I'm with people, especially little kids, it's not so hard to be brave; there's always someone more terrified than yourself. Even better is the fact that, Felix, our crazy dog, goes ballistic during thunder storms. Sally, the beagle, seems pretty nonchalant about it all, but hey, Felix is running around going bonkers so Sally may as well join him as she usually does.
It took a good ten minutes to chase the dogs down and hide them in the garage. So here I am, holding myself together a little better than our maniac dog, running around the yard packing up lawn chairs, tying down the porch screens, and finally able to grab two smelly wet dogs when the power in the house went out. It wasn't such a huge problem since the sun hadn't gone down completely, but trying to set all the clocks back to military time was a bit frustrating. I've come to appreciate the microwave in the kitchen since it's the only clock in the house I can actually read and comprehend in less than two minutes.
It all worked out beautifully though because just as I was letting the dogs out it was so cool and breezy outside that I put on a raincoat and finished weeding the flower gardens and rock wall in our back yard. Who knew that pulling weeds was a million times easier when the ground is saturated?! Even better was that just about the time I couldn't tell if it was sweat or rain drops dripping off my forehead, I turned around and a gorgeous double rainbow wrapped across the sky in almost a complete arch. It was breathtaking and I remembered just why thunderstorms are so important.
Three weeks and a couple of rain showers later, I have a cute little vegetable garden. I didn't get to grow everything I wanted since it's not all in season, but I have enough to keep me busy. Tonight for dinner we had our first salad with our own home grown lettuce. I'm so proud.
I'm often reminded lately of the song "Here Comes the Sun", because it's just so pretty after a small rain shower.
Tuesday 22 March 2011
Does Anyone Remember Paul Harvey?
Today as I was driving home from the grocery store I heard a song on the radio. I don't even know the name of the song, but I knew it was the theme song for radio, talk-show host, Paul Harvey. I feel bad for whoever wrote the song and lyrics, because the song isn't remembered because of it's spectacular (or rather boring) music or rhythm. It's remembered as Paul Harvey's theme song.
I remember it was a big deal in our family when Paul Harvey died. It was almost as tragic as when he no longer had an airing on News Talk 750WSB, or was it 640AM? When I was little, as in five or six, I remember riding in the back seat of my dad's Toyota and listening to "the rest of the story." I didn't know or care what any of those boring guys were talking about, but I did know that we weren't allowed to listen to Neil Boortz; he had a potty mouth.
As I grew older though, I didn't mind listening to Paul Harvey so much. It reminded me of all those good memories I have riding around with Dad. I used to love going to the city dump in Morrow, Georgia to drop off our trash. Even though it was a terrible smell, it was so much fun because there wasn't enough room for me to buckle my seat belt in between the two disgusting trash barrels. I think we even have a picture of me sleeping with my head resting on a particularly nasty rubbish bin; no doubt Dad had tuned in to Paul Harvey on the way home.
I remember our second 2,354 mile (I googled that number) road trip from Georgia to California and the one AM radio station we could pick up somewhere near Colorado was a life saver, because Aaron and I could stop arguing long enough to listen to Paul Harvey. It kinda reminds me of the classic picture of a family huddled around the antique radio listening to the news and spending quality time. You don't see that anymore these days.
I remember one Wednesday night we all went to McDonald's after church so the kids could play on the playground. That was always so much fun up until some random kid ruined it all and they took out the ball pit. The only fun thing left to do was see how long of a train we could make on the slide, and inevitably losing the caboose because someone's legs weren't strong enough to stay linked. The grown-ups would talk politics, sometimes, and I recall someone giving my dad a book by Paul Harvey. That was huge, because then we all got to see the man inside the radio. He didn't look at all like he sounded so I pretend I haven't a clue as to what he looks like.
You're probably wondering why of all the sights and new wonders here in Australia did I choose to write about Paul Harvey. I just thought it was odd that his theme song was on the radio; give me a break. It's the little things that send you on trips down memory lane and then you sit and look how much different the present is. Maybe you have similar memories just because of the little voice from the radio; maybe you have a Saturday morning cartoon that brings back the good times, or a TV show that you always watched with your family. Maybe somehow you can relate to this blog post and how one tune on the way home from the grocery store reminded you of a million memories. To all of you who don't have a clue who Paul Harvey is, my most humble apologies. To all of you who can hear his voice right now...
"This is Paul Harvey...Good Day!"
I remember it was a big deal in our family when Paul Harvey died. It was almost as tragic as when he no longer had an airing on News Talk 750WSB, or was it 640AM? When I was little, as in five or six, I remember riding in the back seat of my dad's Toyota and listening to "the rest of the story." I didn't know or care what any of those boring guys were talking about, but I did know that we weren't allowed to listen to Neil Boortz; he had a potty mouth.
As I grew older though, I didn't mind listening to Paul Harvey so much. It reminded me of all those good memories I have riding around with Dad. I used to love going to the city dump in Morrow, Georgia to drop off our trash. Even though it was a terrible smell, it was so much fun because there wasn't enough room for me to buckle my seat belt in between the two disgusting trash barrels. I think we even have a picture of me sleeping with my head resting on a particularly nasty rubbish bin; no doubt Dad had tuned in to Paul Harvey on the way home.
I remember our second 2,354 mile (I googled that number) road trip from Georgia to California and the one AM radio station we could pick up somewhere near Colorado was a life saver, because Aaron and I could stop arguing long enough to listen to Paul Harvey. It kinda reminds me of the classic picture of a family huddled around the antique radio listening to the news and spending quality time. You don't see that anymore these days.
I remember one Wednesday night we all went to McDonald's after church so the kids could play on the playground. That was always so much fun up until some random kid ruined it all and they took out the ball pit. The only fun thing left to do was see how long of a train we could make on the slide, and inevitably losing the caboose because someone's legs weren't strong enough to stay linked. The grown-ups would talk politics, sometimes, and I recall someone giving my dad a book by Paul Harvey. That was huge, because then we all got to see the man inside the radio. He didn't look at all like he sounded so I pretend I haven't a clue as to what he looks like.
You're probably wondering why of all the sights and new wonders here in Australia did I choose to write about Paul Harvey. I just thought it was odd that his theme song was on the radio; give me a break. It's the little things that send you on trips down memory lane and then you sit and look how much different the present is. Maybe you have similar memories just because of the little voice from the radio; maybe you have a Saturday morning cartoon that brings back the good times, or a TV show that you always watched with your family. Maybe somehow you can relate to this blog post and how one tune on the way home from the grocery store reminded you of a million memories. To all of you who don't have a clue who Paul Harvey is, my most humble apologies. To all of you who can hear his voice right now...
"This is Paul Harvey...Good Day!"
Saturday 12 March 2011
Chicken Vindaloo?
I'm usually really nervous about new foods in foreign countries. Thankfully, Australia is a modern European country and I don't have to worry too awfully much. After all, they have McDonalds, and everyone knows that as long as you aren't in America, McDonalds isn't so bad. Besides, I've lived in Russia and had to experience some pretty nasty concoctions. I realize half the world thinks caviar is a delicacy, but let's face it people, fish eggs are disgusting.
My family can tell all sorts of stories on me when it comes to being picky. I'm not so bad anymore, in fact I can eat pretty much anything that's set in front of me without gagging. That wasn't the case when I was a child though, and I can remember traveling to church meetings with Dad and Mom asking for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich because Elizabeth won't eat anything else. The worst part was I wasn't keen on pb&j unless the jelly was grape flavoured.
Honestly though, things have been pretty normal as far as cooking and eating things that I'm used to here in Australia. The only thing that I haven't been able to find, granted I haven't been on a diligent search, is dry pinto beans. Growing up in Georgia, with a mother from Arkansas, makes one of my favourite meals cornbread and beans so obviously I'll be conducting a search party soon. Also, the ranch dressing and mayonaise you find on the shelf isn't like the ranch dressing I'm used to. The mayonaise here is more like miracle whip; gag me. I've found a way around these small details, and my lessons in converting to the metric system are coming along quite well seeing as how my first week of cooking depended wholly upon using grams and ounces and setting the oven to 150* C rather than 350*F.
All that to say, we went out for Indian Friday night. I've had curry before, but things are always different when they are authentic. My first thought was to get something spicy. When you're brain is trying to function on not crying because you feel like you could shoot a thirty foot flame out of your mouth, you usually don't focus on the way something tastes. I asked for Chicken Vindaloo, but because their were other people at the table sharing in my dish I was pointed to a separate section on the menu. We finally settled with a lamb curry, a mild chicken curry and a pumpkin potato curry. I'm sure you're waiting for me to tell you how revolting it was, but you'll be disappointed, because it was all delicious. Keep reading though because it gets better.
I was up all night. I'll save you the finer details, but it will be a while before I eat Indian food again. Actually, come to think of it, it kinda reminds me of cornbread and beans. Sorry, that was unnecessary. It's just that once again I'm reminded of that look Jamie gives me when I turn my nose up and say, "I don't like that." Call me picky, but when a curry comes out of the kitchen with a sick, green colour I have a slight tendency to wonder what's wrong with it. Keith tells me the rule in Africa is: don't eat anything that isn't cooked, but I learned a long time ago that just because a dish has reached a certain temperature doesn't mean it's met a certain taste.
Things have calmed down though and Jamie's uncle invited us over for Mexican. It was scrumptious even though we're thousands of miles from the Rio Grande. I did notice a similar colour between the guacamole and Indian curry, but give me a break, this is guacamole we're talking about. Avocados are green, but I have no idea how you get a chicken dish to turn green.
I've decided to take it easy for the rest of the week. Just because I'm thousands of miles from traditional southern cooking doesn't mean I can't cope. Jamie hasn't been complaining too hard about my cooking so I'm sure things will be fine. Plush, I've just planted my first garden and picked my first apples so as soon as I get my grandma's recipe for apple pie I'll have forgotten all about my bad experience.
My family can tell all sorts of stories on me when it comes to being picky. I'm not so bad anymore, in fact I can eat pretty much anything that's set in front of me without gagging. That wasn't the case when I was a child though, and I can remember traveling to church meetings with Dad and Mom asking for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich because Elizabeth won't eat anything else. The worst part was I wasn't keen on pb&j unless the jelly was grape flavoured.
Honestly though, things have been pretty normal as far as cooking and eating things that I'm used to here in Australia. The only thing that I haven't been able to find, granted I haven't been on a diligent search, is dry pinto beans. Growing up in Georgia, with a mother from Arkansas, makes one of my favourite meals cornbread and beans so obviously I'll be conducting a search party soon. Also, the ranch dressing and mayonaise you find on the shelf isn't like the ranch dressing I'm used to. The mayonaise here is more like miracle whip; gag me. I've found a way around these small details, and my lessons in converting to the metric system are coming along quite well seeing as how my first week of cooking depended wholly upon using grams and ounces and setting the oven to 150* C rather than 350*F.
All that to say, we went out for Indian Friday night. I've had curry before, but things are always different when they are authentic. My first thought was to get something spicy. When you're brain is trying to function on not crying because you feel like you could shoot a thirty foot flame out of your mouth, you usually don't focus on the way something tastes. I asked for Chicken Vindaloo, but because their were other people at the table sharing in my dish I was pointed to a separate section on the menu. We finally settled with a lamb curry, a mild chicken curry and a pumpkin potato curry. I'm sure you're waiting for me to tell you how revolting it was, but you'll be disappointed, because it was all delicious. Keep reading though because it gets better.
I was up all night. I'll save you the finer details, but it will be a while before I eat Indian food again. Actually, come to think of it, it kinda reminds me of cornbread and beans. Sorry, that was unnecessary. It's just that once again I'm reminded of that look Jamie gives me when I turn my nose up and say, "I don't like that." Call me picky, but when a curry comes out of the kitchen with a sick, green colour I have a slight tendency to wonder what's wrong with it. Keith tells me the rule in Africa is: don't eat anything that isn't cooked, but I learned a long time ago that just because a dish has reached a certain temperature doesn't mean it's met a certain taste.
Things have calmed down though and Jamie's uncle invited us over for Mexican. It was scrumptious even though we're thousands of miles from the Rio Grande. I did notice a similar colour between the guacamole and Indian curry, but give me a break, this is guacamole we're talking about. Avocados are green, but I have no idea how you get a chicken dish to turn green.
I've decided to take it easy for the rest of the week. Just because I'm thousands of miles from traditional southern cooking doesn't mean I can't cope. Jamie hasn't been complaining too hard about my cooking so I'm sure things will be fine. Plush, I've just planted my first garden and picked my first apples so as soon as I get my grandma's recipe for apple pie I'll have forgotten all about my bad experience.
Thursday 10 March 2011
Message in a Bottle
I've never really been what you would call an animal lover. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like animals, and for as long as I can remember I've begged to have my own dog. My Dad finally gave in and let me and my youngest brother have a pet hamster once. We named him Phil because at the time my Dad was addicted to the movie "Ground Hog Day." Obviously a hamster is a long stretch from a dog, but we loved Phil and since hamsters only live for approximately two years, Dad didn't have to worry about us moving off to college and leaving him with the rodent. Sorry, all of that is inconsequential.
What I was leading up to was: I can remember traveling and staying with all sorts of people, and every once in a while you would come up on some little old woman whose whole life revolved around her cat, or a family with an ugly, yappy dog that ruled their house. I've never been that sort of person; I'm sorry. Recently though, I have accrued a wonderful husband and two, silly dogs.
We are a happy group of four. Felix is top dog, except for Jamie of course, and he still hasn't figured out where I fit into our pack. Sally, a beagle with sad droopy eyes, has become my dog whilst Keith and Anne are in Africa. The dogs love to go for walks around our neighborhood and say hello to all their canine friends. By the time we make our rounds, the whole block is a sounding toll of yip-yaps and howls.
Felix and Sally are happy to stay in our back yard and sleep during the day and play at night. Everything was going so well and they had just accepted me into their lives when Sally, the naughty beagle, ran away with Felix, her accomplice. Somebody, we won't name names, left the back gate open so it was no surprise the silly dogs took their chance for a weekend holiday.
Jamie was quite distraught. The dogs left Friday and as of Monday morning we still hadn't seen any sign of them. This was when I realized just how attached I am to our foursome. Suddenly, the little old woman who dotes on her cat wasn't such a pitiful image anymore. I began to worry that maybe we would have to get a new dog, but that there really wouldn't ever be two dogs the same as Felix and Sally. Are you crying yet? You should be...
After much weeping, sackcloth and ashes and gnashing of teeth, we received a phone call. A lovely couple who had been on a holiday camping trip had packed up their belongings and driven in search of a phone signal just so they could call the owners of two wondering dogs. Apparently, Sally had sniffed out the steaks they were grilling and upon finding the vacationers the dogs were happy to lay, exhausted, for the rest of the night. Jamie jumped into the car and drove some six odd miles to pick up our escapees who were found laying like two pitiful, heaps of fur. Sally didn't even recognize Jamie! Their paws were quite worn out and a long scratch across Felix's belly spoke of a merry kangaroo chase. Judging by their rib cages they hadn't caught the roo.
The dogs have been home for a few days now and things are the way they should be. The poor things did receive a bit of a scolding, and probably the worst part of their punishment was the shampooing and scrubbing. I think they weren't too upset to be home though especially since I've been going to spoil them every half hour to make up for their absence. I'm sure the next door neighbors are happy to hear them barking again, and our evening walks are back to a quaint foursome.
What I was leading up to was: I can remember traveling and staying with all sorts of people, and every once in a while you would come up on some little old woman whose whole life revolved around her cat, or a family with an ugly, yappy dog that ruled their house. I've never been that sort of person; I'm sorry. Recently though, I have accrued a wonderful husband and two, silly dogs.
We are a happy group of four. Felix is top dog, except for Jamie of course, and he still hasn't figured out where I fit into our pack. Sally, a beagle with sad droopy eyes, has become my dog whilst Keith and Anne are in Africa. The dogs love to go for walks around our neighborhood and say hello to all their canine friends. By the time we make our rounds, the whole block is a sounding toll of yip-yaps and howls.
Felix and Sally are happy to stay in our back yard and sleep during the day and play at night. Everything was going so well and they had just accepted me into their lives when Sally, the naughty beagle, ran away with Felix, her accomplice. Somebody, we won't name names, left the back gate open so it was no surprise the silly dogs took their chance for a weekend holiday.
Jamie was quite distraught. The dogs left Friday and as of Monday morning we still hadn't seen any sign of them. This was when I realized just how attached I am to our foursome. Suddenly, the little old woman who dotes on her cat wasn't such a pitiful image anymore. I began to worry that maybe we would have to get a new dog, but that there really wouldn't ever be two dogs the same as Felix and Sally. Are you crying yet? You should be...
After much weeping, sackcloth and ashes and gnashing of teeth, we received a phone call. A lovely couple who had been on a holiday camping trip had packed up their belongings and driven in search of a phone signal just so they could call the owners of two wondering dogs. Apparently, Sally had sniffed out the steaks they were grilling and upon finding the vacationers the dogs were happy to lay, exhausted, for the rest of the night. Jamie jumped into the car and drove some six odd miles to pick up our escapees who were found laying like two pitiful, heaps of fur. Sally didn't even recognize Jamie! Their paws were quite worn out and a long scratch across Felix's belly spoke of a merry kangaroo chase. Judging by their rib cages they hadn't caught the roo.
The dogs have been home for a few days now and things are the way they should be. The poor things did receive a bit of a scolding, and probably the worst part of their punishment was the shampooing and scrubbing. I think they weren't too upset to be home though especially since I've been going to spoil them every half hour to make up for their absence. I'm sure the next door neighbors are happy to hear them barking again, and our evening walks are back to a quaint foursome.
Tuesday 8 March 2011
A Day in the Park
Jamie has been so busy trying to job hunt, and I've been working on visas and whatnot so today he took me out on a date. Probably my favourite spot in all of Perth is Kings Park. This park is especially significant to me, because not only is it a stunning view of the entire city, but it is where my romantic husband proposed to me.
I packed the perfect little picnic lunch complete with polka-dot tea pot and cheesecake for desert, and on the way to "our spot" we stopped at the bakery for some sandwich rolls. Delicious. Even better was our pit stop at the antique store where I found the daintiest, dressing table chair. Of course I bought it, who could have passed it up, and I resolved to sit in the car with no further detours.
Jamie and I usually have an extremely difficult time in the car. Ok, I'll not exaggerate, we don't scream at each other, but we do often sit in silence whilst the other person's favourite song is almost finished playing. You see, we have quite opposite tastes in music. That's a conservative statement seeing as how country music isn't even a genre in Australia. Give me a break people; I thought Keith Urban was from Australia. Who knew his citizenship was on the line when he became a famous country singer at the Grand Ole Opre. Excuse me, I digress...
Today was different; today we sat a listened to our small list of mutual favourites and had a lovely ride into the city. I remembered to wear extra sunscreen this time. My first lesson about the hole in the ozone layer (I'm being serious!) just above Western Australia was experienced my fist week here, and now I've taken on the kindergarten theme song Slip, Slap, Slop. In adult tongue this means Slip on a shirt, Slap on a hat, and Slop on some sunscreen. By the way, if you don't wear a hat to school you aren't allowed to play during recess.
The sandwiches were scrumptious, our afternoon tea hit the spot, and just as I remembered, "our spot" was breathtaking. On the way home, we stopped to look for some writing paper and I got sidetracked at this great summer clothing sale. Shopping is so expensive here. How shall I describe it? There isn't a Wall-Mart here. They have Target, although it isn't owned by the same company, but the import prices are sky high. $75 and up for a simple dress, and the part that makes me giggle is the larger the size the larger the price. Talk about discrimination!
On the way home we pass through a small town named Byford. On particularly lovely days, the senior citizens gather at the Byford Country Club and play lawn bowls. A small white ball is placed at one end of the lawn and everyone tries rolling their numbered ball closest to the the white one. I was content to sit in the car watching them play and wondering just how long before someone trying to angle their ball would sprain a hip or lose their dentures when they squeal with delight and do their victory dance. I used to say I wanted to be part of the Red Hat Society when I retire, but I've change my mind. When I retire, I'm going to spend my Tuesdays at the country club playing lawn ball.
I need to go get dinner out of the oven. We're having casserole tonight. I want to leave you with a phrase that's been stuck in my head pretty much all day.
"Here's lookin' at you kid."
I packed the perfect little picnic lunch complete with polka-dot tea pot and cheesecake for desert, and on the way to "our spot" we stopped at the bakery for some sandwich rolls. Delicious. Even better was our pit stop at the antique store where I found the daintiest, dressing table chair. Of course I bought it, who could have passed it up, and I resolved to sit in the car with no further detours.
Jamie and I usually have an extremely difficult time in the car. Ok, I'll not exaggerate, we don't scream at each other, but we do often sit in silence whilst the other person's favourite song is almost finished playing. You see, we have quite opposite tastes in music. That's a conservative statement seeing as how country music isn't even a genre in Australia. Give me a break people; I thought Keith Urban was from Australia. Who knew his citizenship was on the line when he became a famous country singer at the Grand Ole Opre. Excuse me, I digress...
Today was different; today we sat a listened to our small list of mutual favourites and had a lovely ride into the city. I remembered to wear extra sunscreen this time. My first lesson about the hole in the ozone layer (I'm being serious!) just above Western Australia was experienced my fist week here, and now I've taken on the kindergarten theme song Slip, Slap, Slop. In adult tongue this means Slip on a shirt, Slap on a hat, and Slop on some sunscreen. By the way, if you don't wear a hat to school you aren't allowed to play during recess.
The sandwiches were scrumptious, our afternoon tea hit the spot, and just as I remembered, "our spot" was breathtaking. On the way home, we stopped to look for some writing paper and I got sidetracked at this great summer clothing sale. Shopping is so expensive here. How shall I describe it? There isn't a Wall-Mart here. They have Target, although it isn't owned by the same company, but the import prices are sky high. $75 and up for a simple dress, and the part that makes me giggle is the larger the size the larger the price. Talk about discrimination!
On the way home we pass through a small town named Byford. On particularly lovely days, the senior citizens gather at the Byford Country Club and play lawn bowls. A small white ball is placed at one end of the lawn and everyone tries rolling their numbered ball closest to the the white one. I was content to sit in the car watching them play and wondering just how long before someone trying to angle their ball would sprain a hip or lose their dentures when they squeal with delight and do their victory dance. I used to say I wanted to be part of the Red Hat Society when I retire, but I've change my mind. When I retire, I'm going to spend my Tuesdays at the country club playing lawn ball.
I need to go get dinner out of the oven. We're having casserole tonight. I want to leave you with a phrase that's been stuck in my head pretty much all day.
"Here's lookin' at you kid."
Monday 7 March 2011
A Day in Underland
I'm so proud of myself; I've just successfully created my own blog for my friends and family in the U.S.A. to follow. I really don't know much about computers, but there's really not anything that e-How can't help you with. Today will be my first post for all those people who may or may not be interested in my daily life or keeping up with what I do. I can already tell you that there will be days I don't post anything, and even worse, there will be days when you'll wish I hadn't posted anything.
I want this blog to be a sort of diary for me. You don't have to read this; in fact, I can hear my brother, Aaron saying, "Who really cares what she did in her garden today!"; that's all perfectly fine. If you don't like what you read then go get lost in your busy and terribly important life.
I've recently watched the new "Alice in Wonderland" by Tim Burton, and for some strange reason I feel that I can relate to poor Alice. She has suddenly been thrown into a world that is upside-down, topsy-turvy, scary, maddening, and yet somehow fascinating. Since my recent move here to Australia, I've discovered so many differences you wouldn't normally think about, but that make a huge difference. By the way, the toilet doesn't flush in the opposite direction in the Southern Hemisphere; that's just an urban myth. I'm not saying I'm "gone bonkers" like the Mad Hatter, but it's those times when the girl at the cash register throws your change back at you because it took you forever to count out a foreign currency that you just want to go stand in a corner and whimper, or report her to her manager for being ugly.
It's those times when bus drivers wag their finger at you because you didn't indicate which direction you wanted to go in the round-about. Trust me, there is a whole new thought process behind driving on the left side of the road. It's when you go to hang your clothes on the line just like everyone else in the neighborhood, but you think to yourself, "there's no way I'm hanging my underwear up there." It's when you go to buy seasoning for your roast beef and the woman standing next to you in the aisle needs a translator because you just asked her what size roast to use for eight people. My personal favourite is drinking hot tea when it's a scathing 110*F outside. Don't let me forget the part where you have to convert 43*C to Farenheit.
I could go on, but you get the idea. This page will probably turn into the place where I vent some frustration so as not to take it out on my unsuspecting husband. If you've gotten this far in the reading then I commend you. I shall now adjourn, and as the Mad Hatter himself would say, "Welcome to Underland."
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