decisions, decisions...

I often feel like I'm standing at yet another of life's crossroads. Or roundabout. Or a confusing LA-esqe multi laned highway turnoff/merge/exit. Sometimes it's just me standing there, staring blankly, sometimes I'm there with a close friend, my family or my partner.

At these times I often think of the New Jersey turnpike in the film Being John Malkovich and marvel at the crazy portal of life and the strange places it spits you out at. That, and Robert Frost's poem, The Road Not Taken, because a choice is necessary here, inevitable even, but you can never really know the outcome of your choice until you have lived it. Which can feel a little daunting at times.
Will the next choice I make lead to happiness?

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Frost is a cheeky bastard of a poet, don't you think? Is he sighing with happiness or regret? Was the difference good or bad? You could argue, knowing how way leads on to way, we can always make another choice, right? But that choice will then be informed and influenced by the former choices. Snowball effect. Rippling in a pond. Dominos are tumbling down. I'm starting to hyperventilate. And still just standing here, staring blankly.

This handy flow chart gets straight to the point though -

Image by You Might Like This via the delightful Checks and Spots

Some more food for thought via Checks and Spots comes in video form. It was an entry in a competition called u @ 50 and here I am stressing about tomorrow, next week, next month etc but this makes me ponder long term happiness. Ah perspective. Now I'm worrying about not only my future future but that of the entire world. Although, if there's no world then there's no me, so the two are kind of mutually exclusive.

It's a palindrome, so you'll need to watch the entire 1:45 to understand the full message. And that also means that if you don't have sound then you'll have to read each line, then read them backwards in order to see the true meaning!

And on a final note I shall leave you with this to consider. A most excellent piece of street art spotted tonight at the top of my parents street in Bondi, albeit fuzzily captured by my iphone. Apt, I think, considering all that's been going on in my head right lately.

I love it. I love that it's quoting the 1998 Spice Girls song Stop.

I'm going to stop, make my happiness decision with a human touch, and be on my merry way. And if life spits me out at the New Jersey turnpike again, well, I'll just have to dust myself off and crawl back down the crazy portal that is life, right?!

thanks mum

My mum has put up with a lot of crap over past 28 years...

Since I was this little (and even littler really)

Until I was this big.

Congratulations Mum, the crap stops here!*

And yet she still thinks it's hilarious to take photos of you sleeping in the car...

so I guess it goes both ways eh mum?!

* Sorry I can't actually guarrantee the crap stops here. In fact I'm pretty sure it says in your contract the crap is never ending. Sorry about that. Thanks for putting up with it all the same. Also, you know it's not my fault!!

Sending my love to all the mums out there who put up with the crap on a daily basis. I think you are all cussing amazing. I hope I can be as strong, supportive, patient, kind, nuturing and cook as good as you one day. Thanks for being such great role models.

Happy Mothers Day!
xxx

leaf studies

Episode 3 of the 2010 Harvest continues!

And it contains some of my all time favourite greenery - gum leaves, soft spongey moss and sillouettes at dusk.

I wish I had a backyard like this...

tea break and breaking news

Let's take a quick break from the 2010 Harvest episodes for a moment shall we? I have some news.
First - a cup of tea and a biscuit.





You'd be correct in guessing that those are still harvest shots. But how hilarious/retro/kitsch is that crocheted owl tea cosy?! My nana made it and EVERYONE hated it and yet it still survived the decades and continues to grace us with its presence at tea time. I'm also glad that Anzacs biscuits have survived the decades since the first batch popped out of the oven. These ones were particularly delicious, THANKS MUM!, and my brother and I ate more than our fair share when we thought no one was looking.

Now for my news. I'm not sure whether it's good or bad but...my nannying days are numbered. My sister in law has got a spot for my nephew in a daycare centre now, and even though he is 3 months younger than what they'd decided was a better age to cope with daycare, they are worried they won't be able to get him a spot when the right time comes.

So I won't be needing my bottomless carpet bag or flying umbrella for much longer. I will however, be needing a new job. bugger! Which is fine and perfectly reasonable for a women of my age and skills. bugger bum poo! I am sure I will find my dream job advertised on Seek, with a ginormous salary to boot, and they'll probably hire me even before my interview - as this is my new resume/career plan, a la David Shrigley.

cloud studies

Episode 2 of my harvest shots.

We had some glorious weather over the week - but also some serious rain. 30 mms over night on the Saturday evening. But you can never complain about rain in the country, even if it's spoiling your productivity plans. Olives have to be pressed within 2/3 days after picking otherwise they start to ferment which wouldn't make tasty olive oil. Thankfully we weren't washed out of the grove for too long and after a leisurely breakfast we were back picking olives by 10am. Just in time for morning tea break!

I just get blown away by all the different colours in the sky sometimes. I'd love to know what all the clouds are called too. I'll put learn cloud names on my To Do list, next to learn all the capital cities of Africa. (I can do Europe already, smart huh!)

And for those who are wondering what happens next, after the olives are all picked - I am working on my 'school project - How Olive Oil is made' blog post! Just need to check up on some technical details...wish I'd paid more attention now, don't I?

Honey, I'm home!

 *Over 10 hours round trip of driving later...*

Home from the Farm. Sigh. I could definitely spend more time in the countryside... I'd be a weather beaten farmers wife any day. In fact I'm ridiculously brown after just one week. And sad about taking my Blundstones off. They were the first thing I'd pull on as I stumbled out of bed each day...I'm dreaming of living the good life with a sheep or two and some pigs and a dairy cow. I rather fancy myself as an Australian version of Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. River Cottage Down Under! I'd churn my own butter, grow our own vegies, pluck my own chickens...well, I did say I was dreaming!

But did you miss me?! You know I missed you! But I was brave, and lasted over a week without internet or mobile access. Impressive stuff, no? There was much to keep me busy/distracted at this years harvest though. There is never enough time in each lovely day spent in the countryside...

I have a million and one photos to share from the harvest, as you can imagine. So I will try and stagger them over a few posts, so as not to overload you all at once. And then back to my (ir)regular posts of crafting antics and adventures in the city!

But for now I present to you my shots from the East Ridge Olive Grove 2010 Harvest!

**Storm clouds roll in but we're not scared...**

**A crate full of olives! Just one of many!**

**Brumiracking with the olinet, 
i.e shaking the olives off the bigger trees and catching them in a net!**

**There is always time for a quick pat.**

**Handpicked by Vicky, her motto was "No Olive Left Behind!"**

**Cuddle time. Harvesting is tiring work!**

**My excitable brother**

**Obligatory family photo...**

**Those nails, much like those olives, 
were wrenched from their branches uncerimoniously. 
Such is life.**

And if you like what you see, you're more than welcome to join us for next years harvest! Stay tuned for more rural themed shots...

it's harvest time!

Sayonara city - I'm out of here! I'll be offline for 9 or so days (who's counting?!) as I head off to my parent's farm near Mudgee for the annual East Ridge Olive Grove Harvest Festival.

I look forward to this time of year even more than Christmas. It's got all the elements needed for a great festive holiday - family, friends, copious amounts of good food and wine, good conversation and a break from the hustle and bustle of everyday life - with the added bonus of fresh clean country air, gentle exercise and the satisfaction gleaned from being involved in the making of the most delicious tasting, award winning olive oil you've ever tasted!

Okay so I'm a little biased due to the fact that I helped plant these olive trees for mum and dad and have helped harvest them every year. I think this might be our 5 year anniversary too (I'll have to check with mum about that though) so it's going to be extra special. And we're hoping for a bumper crop - harvest is being held over 2 weekends this year instead of just the one. That's if the birds don't eat them all, hail doesn't destroy them, fires don't come through the area or Icelandic volcanic ash decends upon us. Tom's parents come every year and this year they're bringing extra help all the way from Stockholm. Fingers crossed Dory gets to hop on the plane in time, what with all the delays due to the Icelandic (int)eruptions...

So I've packed my Blundstones, an array of colourful beanies, a large stash of wool for making granny squares, my cameras, a book (Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami) and I'm keeping Dad company while Tom and the rest of my family head back home mid week for work/uni. Dad's hired out a few seasons of The Darling Buds of May for our viewing pleasure. Oh, and The Brittas Empire, which would be loudly voted off the island if the rest of the clan were still there. We share a love of British television, the good, the bad and the extraordinarily, painfully woeful. But that's just for the evenings of course - I plan to spend my time off scouring the local op shops and snoozing. Bliss.

Just like this...

I'll miss you, you know. I'm sure I'll have loads of catching up to do on the interwebs upon my return. Don't do anything too exciting while I'm gone, will you?


I'll also miss you Snouting Girl. Sad you won't be eating rotting rabbits and then getting sick, grousing at the other dogs being the grumpy old fun police, getting dirty with a filthy stinking beard, carrying kindling for the fire and generally being the loveliest dog we've ever had. (Sorry to all our other dogs, Cleo will always be my favourite, it's true...)

R.I.P Cleo Sept 2009

glass half full or half empty? cake half burnt or half uncooked?

As you can see I'm a chaotic baker. I promise I didn't "style" that shot, that's just how unorganised the science of baking is in my kitchen. Things get messy when I bake. But I love the clutter, the muddle, the bedlam and the scrambles and shambles of a good afternoon of baking. So what if I've got icing sugar in my hair, egg smeared on my skirt and if my cardigan doesn't skim over my curves like Nigella's. At least I get to lick all the dishes clean and put them straight back in the cupboards when I'm done.

I don't love when my delicious tasting lemon and almond cake batter burns on the outside and is completely uncooked in the middle...poor Nana, her 82nd birthday cake probably won't be remembered in her birthday cake hall of fame. And I burnt it last year too, so maybe this is becoming a tradition. And sure, I blame the oven, but who turned it up too high, then down too low to compensate? Oops, I guess that would be me...

So the lesson I learn, time and time again, is eat as much of that delicious lemony butter and sugar and almond meal mixture before you put it in the oven and go and ruin everything, yet again. Got any better baking tips than that?!

Other lessons I am learning this week is persistance and being patient. Thank you for your kind words as I battle with my temper. Never fear, my nephew and I are still talking to each other (well, he babbles, I sing) and spend most of the day cuddling. Plus I figure I am being paid to be patient, so I should try harder for work ethic reasons alone! I did confess to my sister in law that I'd yelled at him and she just hugged me and said - "I'm sorry he pushed you to your limit but it happens to everyone. Don't feel bad. Feel good because you're giving me a break 3 days a week!"

So I guess I'll have a glass (half full) of wine to wash down this delicious cake, put my feet up and consider myself just cussing awesome. Care to join me? Come on, tell me you're not cussing awesome too?! I know you are!!

Patience and the Imp

Image: Patience Archival Print by Lisa Congdon

Urgh. Lately I have really been putting my imp before my patience. And it just feels so awful.

When I see and hear other people yelling...it all seems so unnecessary and soul destroying. And it really doesn't matter if you apologise afterwards - it's too late, you've already acted irrationally and you can't take those words or actions back. And I know it hurts real bad when someone yells at you, so I really shouldn't be yelling at someone else...

Image by Ashley G

Especially when that someone is a 7 month old baby.

I lost my cool the other day - everything had been a battle, no eating, no drinking, no sleeping all day without a fight. And so when I reached the end of my tether, when I gave up trying to understand what the hell was the problem, I yelled. And unsurprisingly, yelling does not stop a baby from crying. Nor did it make me feel any better afterwards - on the contrary I felt a million times worse.

Why can't I be more patient? Where can I get more patience from? How do you learn to be patient?

I really don't want to be a yeller. I don't want to lash out verbally when I'm feeling pissed off. I don't want to snap so easily. I don't want to take my frustrations out on other people, especially those I love. I want to be stronger.

How come I can find patience for inanimate objects: learn a new craft, layer my tea bags in a spiral, fold all my plastic bags in neat and tidy rectangles but when it comes to compassion for other human beings I am so quick to snap?

This is one bad habit I am keen to quit. If you have any wisdom to impart or helpful tips I'd be one grateful girl...