The Berry Patch

It wasn't too long ago, really, that we decided to try and do monthly family outings.

Nothing special, just a few hours where we could get out of the house and not worry about work, cleaning, schedules (other than nap time!), and just BE. Just our little family.

That kind of went on hold when Ben died. Partly because I was still recovering from my c-section. Partly because we let ourselves get wrapped up in "what needs to be done around the house" again, because that was easier. Combine that with Phillip having the busiest work schedule in nearly four years and then being so tired on the weekend he wasn't in much of an attitude to go out and do something. We just haven't gotten out for much more than grocery shopping in the past almost 4 months now.

But our friends (who also happen to be Phillip's employers... I have probably mentioned that at some point...) invited us to go berry picking with them last weekend.Somehow, the men ended up with a Monday off work (after having to work Saturday). So off to The Berry Patch we went.

It was the nicest day we have had in so so long.

The children's play area.
Large straw bales to climb on!

Relaxed, anxiety free (my first in months!), FUN.

And Phillip and I have no clue what the recipe for it was. Because we left late. Got a little lost finding the entrance. Didn't even get to spend all that much time with our friends and their kids (because we were late).

But it was wonderful.

Simon enjoyed tearing up and down the rows of berries, running full tilt and yelling. And QUICKLY discovered what a ripe blackberry looked like and (according to Phillip who was watching him at the time) grabbed several quicker than could be seen and stuffed them in his little mouth, running away quickly so he could do it again. He was pretty well covered in juice, and we had a fun time trying to teach him to NOT pick and eat.


We ended up with close to 3 kilos of strawberries that we have slowly been eating our way through, and about 1 of blackberries. HUGE blackberries.

Those blackberries? Half got turned into some fantastic blackberry pie bars (halving the recipe and cutting out 1/4c of sugar in the filling). If we don't eat the rest of the berries very soon, I might be making an apricot and blackberry cobbler again.








The day was finished with a short trip to the beach for some wading and digging in sand, heading home, and getting there JUST in time for a LOOOOONG nap for Simon, and some relaxed lounging for Phillip and me.

We also forgot Simon's swimming gear...

Simon remembered a spoon though.
He rarely goes anywhere without a measuring spoon...

Christmas:2014

Yes I'm posting this a bit late. I have reasons. Which will come in the next post. Also in this one. 

Christmas was an interesting combination of fun, relaxed, and heart-wrenchingly painful.

It was Simon's second Christmas and, at 19 months, he still doesn't GET it, but was old enough to actually enjoy opening gifts and playing with them. 

Reading Miki by Stephen Mackey

For 10 minutes. Then he discovered wrapping paper and boxes and the same stuff he takes out of the kitchen cupboards every day.

And while seeing him SUPER excited to open up his new cars and trucks was quite fun, when he put those off to the side because he opened up the books we'd gotten him while we were in Hobart, and sat on his daddy's lap for 15 minutes asking to be read to, my heart swelled with pride and melted a little bit. Because my child loves books! And I don't know that there is anything he can do at this age that would make me prouder.

It was so nice to have a quiet Christmas morning, just the three of us. To enjoy Simon's happiness and at the same time remember that we should have had little Ben with us, too, to share toys with, and kisses, and have pictures of his first Christmas. And we needed that quiet time together, the three of us, to remember, to cry, to laugh, and to prepare for the big family Christmas day with everyone from my husband's side of the family. 

HAM!
We love ham.

The night before I'd made a really nice Christmas Eve dinner of ham and veggies. And home-made cooked egg nog. Oh. My. YUM. We ate leftover cold ham for breakfast with, what is becoming kind of a tradition for us, fresh, flaky biscuits and eggs. We try to keep it small because Christmas lunch with my husband's family tends to be HUGE. And then they eat the leftovers cold for dinner. It's quite delicious.

No gingerbread house or TARDIS this year. Just plain cookies.

I tried adding to it, at least for immediate family members and some choice friends, anyway, by baking gifts this year. A combination of gingerbread, almond roca, and some chocolate chip cookie dough truffles (I can't choose a favorite. They were all fantastic to, um, taste-test...). I let Simon "help" me this year. Since gingerbread dough has no egg in it, I thought he could play with some of the dough while I made the cookies. Turns out, Simon LOVES gingerbread (he now ASKS for it yelling "Dindinbeh!") and immediately stuffed the bits of dough in his mouth and yelled for more. So, not wanting a toddler hyped up on sugar, I put a stop to his "helping" and gave him rice puffs instead. Later, he learned the art of stealing cookies while I am distracted frosting them. Was he helpful? No. Was it annoying? No. I decided when I started that I was going to enjoy the time with him no matter what. We spent time together doing things. Well worth loosing some gingerbread and time baking to make the memories I now have of him!

Bites of heaven.
I mean eggless chocolate chip cookie dough truffles.

This year was honestly probably the most relaxed and nice Christmas we've been to. 

Except that by the end, I had had more than enough socializing and pretending that I was ok. Because I wasn't. The one and only time I mentioned Ben's name and being in the hospital was during a legitimate story I was asked about (why Simon was running around singing, "Die Die Die!". It's from the song Dumb Ways to Die, which I had on my tablet the first time we were in the hospital waiting for scan results and ran out of ways to entertain Simon. So we let him watch it and he is kind of obsessed with it now). The people listening actually turned away from me. I mean legitimately turned their backs and stopped looking at me. To say it was hurtful would be downplaying what that felt like. It was one of those moments where I was tempted to yell "I DON'T HAVE A DISEASE!". I get that I am the face of pain to them right now, and they don't know what to do, but really, it was probably one of the worst things they could have done. Well, that, and ignore me. Which they did too. It was super fun, let me tell you...

You can use tractors and trucks to make cookies.
Right?

But Simon had fun. And that made most of it worth it. And by the end of the night, at home with Simon in bed, sitting with Phillip, a glass of wine, and watching Elf (after shedding copious amounts of tears, because you can't cry while watching Elf. It's too funny), I could say it was a nice Christmas with my little family. 

First Birthday's and Dragons

Wow, I now have ONE-year-old.

Crazy.

Time went by pretty fast (though, at the time, seemed to draaaaag). I can honestly say that, now, I really truly enjoy being a mother. I have next to no idea what I'm doing, if any idea at all, really, but I really enjoy it now at LEAST 99.9% of the time (I'd still really enjoy sleeping in too). The first 5 months or so, I couldn't say that. It was hard, learning that taking care of this thankless, selfish, crying little adorable person was my job now. That what I WANTED to do (and sometimes needed to do) didn't matter so much as making sure this little persons needs were met, that he was loved and well cared for first before myself or housework got taken care of. Learning that I was a VERY selfish person who wanted what I wanted was hard, giving that up is harder (and a daily if not hourly task). Now though? I really do enjoy it. Simon is one fun kid. And there is no way to explain how much I absolutely love and adore him. How much I have from the very beginning, even with all the frustrations and learnings.

Seriously, though. This kid is hilarious. I love him. And Phillip and I wanted to throw him a super cool party for his first birthday. Problem is, we know all of like, four people that aren't family )ok, it's slightly more than that, but you get the picture). And neither of us are big PARTY people, nor have we been feeling extremely well lately (Phillip with a cold, me with other things), and also, Simon is only one. I mean, it's a big deal, but really? Not huge one. But still, I love a good birthday party, I love kid birthday parties, and Pintrest makes it WAAAAY to easy to find far too many fun ideas to do for kid birthday parties.

THIS is what you could buy. They've come
out with nicer ones with the second movie coming out soon, though.

So we decided on a "How To Train Your Dragon" theme, because we both love the movie, and Simon is too young to choose what he wants. Also, we wanted to get him a Toothless plush toy for Christmas, but couldn't find nice ones online (they were fairly hideous), and I happened to find a super cute and easy tutorial on how to make your own that actually looked like the movie character, instead of something that wanted to eat your soul. And I really wanted to make it. So really, we selfishly chose a theme WE wanted, but were pretty sure Simon would look back at photos and think "my parents weren't so bad, this is kinda neat".

THIS is the home-made Toothless.
So much cuter. And the tutorial was fairly easy to follow too! 

Toothless took a few nights of sewing, once Simon was in bed, and I ended up using a small K-Mart fleece blanket for the material, because after checking fabric and craft stores for WEEKS, we couldn't find black fleece anywhere that would suite for this project. If was either ridiculously cheap, and would pill and come apart after one good play, or overly fuzzy (and remarkably expensive). I ended up using super cheap K-Mart pillows for stuffing, too (K-Mart is the Australian Walmart equivalent, only with worse quality in a lot of things). Fabric and craft stores around here are just way overpriced and under stocked. I miss Hobby Lobby. The ONLY part I had trouble understanding in the Toothless  tutorial was sewing the tail fin. I left a whole side open because I didn't look at the diagram properly, and realized you only sew the TIP of it into the tail, not the side. Made for a more impressively long dragon once it was done, and it only took me five minutes to cut out and sew a new fin (seam ripping black stitches on black fleece was more work than I wanted to do, and I had enough scraps to do another fin easy).

Pintrest led to more ideas on food, which I narrowed down to a dragon cake and some Viking ship sandwiches. Partly because I love to play with cake decorating (though it was much harder with my lack of proper materials here) and it was an excuse to do Big Sandwich, which had the added benefit of... sort of... including my family in things, since it's something my Aunt/Uncle/cousins made a lot when I would go over. It was at least a reminder that we're thinking of them, and that they're still a part of our lives, even if they couldn't be here for the event <tear>. Then I made some paper mache "dragon eggs" as favours. They had little candy bars inside, and were made mostly to entertain the kids we invited. Unfortunately, the cold/flu that has been making its rounds amongst.. everyone... made it so that the only kids that came were Phillip's two younger cousins. Actually, the only people that could make it to the party were Phillip's family.

Despite the lack of children, it was a really good time. And everything turned out really well. And tasty. And Simon seemed to have a really good time. Though, honestly, he has a good time anywhere unless he is sick, hungry, or tired. Sadly, Simon and I came down with the nasty cold Phillip had, for a while, the day after the party, and are still working on recovering.

Food!
Night Fury cake and Viking ship sandwiches.
Family brought mostly deserts to share, so we were
a bit hyped up on sugar afterwards. 

Simon ate the dragon's head with much gusto.

Getting his very own dragon!
I think I love the fact that it's as big as him more than he does.

Christmas: 2013

We've been back from our trip to the States for just over a week now.

I promise you, I have a few blog entries started on my tablet (yes! I got a tablet! Mostly so I COULD blog while my hubby has the computer). Unfortunately, we don't have wireless, so I have to upload them later... and finish them... but I couldn't wait on this one, because it's Christmas (Simon's first!).

And I managed to do my annual gingerbread house. Somehow. With being remarkably tired from traveling and a sick and cranky baby who refuses to sleep for longer than 3 hour-increments at night. And just a long long first week back in Tassie.

But baking is therapy sometimes. And I so badly wanted to make this gingerbread house! I didn't care if anyone in Phillip's family recognized it, or thought it was as awesome as we did, or lame, I just needed to make it.

So I did.

And it is glorious. Or at least I think so, anyway.

Anyone who doesn't recognize it, this is the TARDIS. From Dr. Who. Specifically, for a seasonally appropriate TARDIS, a bit of inspiration from "The Snowmen" episode.

I am a rather recent initiate into the Dr. Who universe, thanks to my cousin. Though I have to say, things I'd seen from the fandom made me rather interested in the show before that, as well.

So in honor of 50 years of Dr. Who, and my lovely cousin, who I'm really really sad I couldn't be with for Christmas (along with the rest of my family), comes the gingerbread TARDIS.

Interestingly enough, Phillip's uncle is a big Dr. Who fan, which we did not know until I walked in with my TARDIS. So there were fun jokes about breaking it open to see if it was bigger on the inside. And it was fun to have something I did just for myself for fun be fun for others as well.

And, for Simon's first Christmas, we kept it low-key. He got some clothes we got in the States for him, and some Duplos for when he's a bit older. I mean, honestly, he's super happy playing with bits of paper he finds on the floor at the moment, and gets enough toys from other people, that we felt no need to spoil him more. Lots of love, and hugs is about all he needs and want from us anyway.

 Poor baby is still rather sick and cranky most of the time. On the left we have happy baby after playing with wrapping paper. On the right, we have a child who just got clothes for Christmas...

Circle of LIfe

Last week, Phillip had a few days off work in which he borrowed a DVD from friends on how to humanely kill and dress chickens. And, after watching it and taking notes, he did it with our extra roosters.

Yes, this may sound a bit harsh to some. Why would we raise, care for, and then kill what is sometimes a bit like a pet? Well, that was part of the deal we made with ourselves when we decided to get chickens and a rooster.

There isn't much of a point in owning a rooster unless you want chicks (though ours does have a wonderful personality and roosters in general can make great "guard dogs"). And, when allowing your hens to hatch chicks, there isn't really any way to guarantee that they're only hatching females, and not males. And, when you have too many mature roosters in your flock, the hens start to go off laying eggs. Which is the MAIN reason we have our hens to begin with.

(Why do hens go off laying eggs with too many roosters around? Mostly because the roosters try to mate with mature, laying hens, not hens who aren't laying eggs. If they're being "jumped on" too much, they'll stop laying so that the roosters leave them alone. We can tell when our young hens are going to start laying eggs because the rooster starts doing his funny mating dance for them.)

Anyway, when we got our chickens the "deal" was that, if we allowed hatchings, we would build up the flock with hens so we could have plenty of eggs for ourselves and to share with a few people, and extra roosters would be for meat.

The past year gave us two extra roosters that just entered their mature stage of life and needed either a new home, or to go in the freezer.

We found no homes for them, so, as said earlier, Phillip killed and dressed them. And, as someone who has only had experience with people either shooting or axing chickens up to this point, I was quite impressed with the gentle way that Phillip found to have them killed. It involves "hypnotizing" them by holding them upside down (this works great with fussy hens too, or just any chicken, and is kind of funny), and gently breaking their necks. This also leaves the meat in much better condition than shooting or axing them.

De-feathering was probably the easiest part of the job, since, being the first time we've had to kill chickens, and these being chickens we've helped raise and nurture, it was a bit hard emotionally (also, I'm flooded with pregnancy hormones at the moment and cried when Phillip brought the carcasses in the house).

Chilling out before we put them in the fridge so the meat
can relax before cooking or freezing.

But Phillip did a wonderful job, and I roasted one the other night with some carrots from our garden, potatoes and onion. After only 2.5 hours in the oven, he was really really tender and delicious. Is there a difference in taste with a fairly fresh, free-range, you-know-what-it's-been-eating rooster and one from the store? Not really. Fresher maybe, and, well, it was a bit tastier than store-bought. But honestly not much different.

Blackberry Peach Cobbler, and my inability to stick to a recipe

Being blackberry season again, and given my near annoyance for making blackberry jam, I am somewhat at a loss on what to do with the massive amounts of blackberries that Phillip and I manage to pick. Other than, you know, eat them.

Phillip claims he can eat the many pounds we collect in one evening in that same amount of time.

Me? I want to bake, and preserve and bake some more. Mostly, bake. So when I stumbled across the Sugar and Spice recipe for a blackberry and peach cobbler via Pintrest, I had to try it.

Of course, I am terrible at simply following a recipe most of the time. So, apricots are close enough to peaches, right? And we had nearly a full case (5 kilos) left in the fridge, ready to be made into jam... it'll do, right?

Blackberries fresh and drying,
apricots waiting to be sliced and diced

In one evening, Phillip and I managed to pick four-ish pounds of blackberries. Four-ish pounds of beautiful, sweet, just ripe blackberries. A quick rinse in some vinegar water (a whole lot of water with just a splash of vinegar, really does help clean the fruit better than plain old water, and it has lasted me longer since I started doing it), then some plain water, and they sat to drip-dry until they were ready to be made into deliciousness.

Since I was making this for a Sunday afternoon lunch after meeting, I mixed up all the dry ingredients Saturday night so I could throw in the wet and bake on Sunday morning so the cobbler would be nice and fresh. 

And, again, to confess my horribleness at actually fully following a recipe, it called to have the peaches stoned and peeled. I have never peeled a peach, or an apricot. And I really didn't want to. So I just cut up my little apricots and left the skins on. Also, rather than mix 1 1/2 cups of sugar with the fruit (which I did the next morning), I used only one cup. It's fruit, and very ripe, very fresh fruit at that. And was intended to be consumed by children not used to eating sugar. So... why a whole cup and a half when it's sweet and juicy to begin with? And I used whole wheat flour when making the biscuits. We mill our own, so it's cheaper and healthier (though not nearly as fluffy or smooth as white or even store-bought whole wheat flour).

Mixing everything together in the morning and plopping it into the baking dish was super easy. And baking... oh how delicious it smelled! I set aside an extra, small, dish so Phillip and I could taste test some for breakfast.

And it. Was. GOOD. We drizzled a little cream on top of the hot cobbler and dug in. With hot coffee, it was a most delectable breakfast. WITHOUT coffee, it would be delectable. It was just... GOOD. The tartness of the berries, the near buttery sweetness of the apricots, and the savory plain-ness of the biscuits ... ohhhh.... it was so yummy. Most definitely a keeper! Even re-heated in the oven a few hours later as dessert for lunch (we ended up just sharing it with Phillip's family, as no one else made it to fellowship lunch that day), it was still just as good! 

Fresh out of the oven, the fruit still bubbles and steams

Along with the wonderful taste and aroma, I LOVE the colors of the fruit together

As it turned out, I don't think my little deviations from the original recipe made a real difference in how good this was. Maybe it's a little less juicy than the original (if you look at her pictures), but, no one who ate complained. 

Christmas: 2012

We're still learning how to celebrate Christmas together, and trying to set up our own little family traditions, so Christmas this year was more of a work in progress than a happy fun holiday season.

Not that I didn't have fun. Christmas morning with the hubby was pretty nice. We're just still trying to find that balance between "we know this is based on a pagan holiday and don't feel entirely comfortable celebrating it just because it's become tradition" and "I LOVE CHRISTMAS!!!" (I am more the latter).

We both woke up a bit later than expected Christmas morning (Christmas Eve celebrations with his parents and siblings went on longer than expected because one of his brothers decided to do some unplanned deer hunting that was somehow legal even though it isn't deer season), and had to rush a bit more than I would have wanted.

I made the same delectable biscuits for breakfast that we had for Thanksgiving. I'm serious, these things are just the best ever. So light, fluffy, flaky, and full of flavor.... but anyway, topped a few of those with whats left of the homemade raspberry jam from last summer and the rest with melted butter and warm honey... Ooooohhhh.... they are GOOD. With a small cup of the coffee my sister sent us from Guatemala,  it was a perfect small and cozy Christmas breakfast.

Not technically a gift for him,
but he still liked it.

We had a few minutes to open gifts together , let the chickens out, and gather up this years gingerbread house and other food stuffs to bring before we had to get ready to leave for a family gathering.

I wasn't as surprised by the Britishness of Christmas this year, but more surprised at how my family's traditions have more in common with those of my German friend. Gingerbread houses and Christmas cookies: not such a big thing here. Where as my family would be chowing down on piles and piles of sugar, gingerbread, and spritz cookies, here, it's more about the puddings. And by puddings, it's more cake-like by American standards. So, British puddings. Which are GOOD. There's Christmas pudding (kind of like fruit cake, but with more spices and less like a brick), summer pudding (some kind of pastry thing filled with berries, and, well, that was it for puddings this year anyway. A pavlova also seems to company every single celebration of any kind here, too. All quite QUITE good, but I do miss my Aunt Christy's spritz cookies, and tearing into the gingerbread house together as a family.

My poor little house was mostly ignored this year, so I'm not entirely sure I'll continue the tradition. Well, maybe for our own little one (and do an uber tiny house!).

I went super simple this year, since I learned last year that the warmth and humidity in the air don't work too well with the frosting or melted sugar I use to glue the house together and then glue candy all over the house. So, instead, I used my totally awesome sandwich bag piping technique (read: I'm too cheap to buy real piping bags) and just did frosting designs all over it.

While not as epic as last years Ninjabread house (which I apparently never posted on and will now have to upload photos for comparison, and to puff up my little ego), I still liked this years, and thought it turned out quite well.

I still stuffed it full of Ninjabread men!

Rather than coat the whole thing with white frosting this year,
I opted for outlining tiles and then a light sprinkling of powdered sugar.

Not as cool looking, but classic and pretty I thought.
Also not as melty.

Last years house....

Normal front...

Log-splitting ninja out back

Darn frosting recipe I followed plus humidity and high
temperatures made for a drippy bendy house.

Thanksgiving Down Under: 2012

Another Thanksgiving in Australia has come and gone.

This year, Phillip and I debated between inviting his immediate family over, sharing a giant meal with the two other families in our assembly (plus his own family), or just doing it alone again.

Alone won out. Basically, cooking for us and two (well three really) other families, one of which contains nine hungry children (though one isn't on solids yet) would have been too much for me with the whole pregnancy fatigue thing. Then it was down to maybe just his family.

Honestly, I just got selfish with my holiday traditions and we had it, just the two of us.

Thanksgiving back home wasn't really much more than a big family get-together and a pretty fantastic meal. We really have never had more to go with the tradition than just that. But it was still somehow MORE than just getting together with the whole extended family (and sometimes a few extras) and eating until we had to be rolled around the house to get anywhere. I can't put my finger on it, but there was just... more to it than what was on the surface. Something about just the FAMILY together, a sense of identity as a family, a group, US. Enjoying being with each other to do more than eat massive amounts of delicious food. To sit and talk and joke and laugh (and here is where I start to get teary-eyed).

So when it comes to trying to introduce my own family traditions to a family that has never followed anything similar to it, I tend to just not want to bother with it and horde all the goodness to myself and my husband, and keep it within our own little family of, for now, two.

Though we haven't thrown out the idea of making basically the same meal at a different date to share with others, Thanksgiving is still ours while we're here. It's my American tradition.

So this year, again, I cooked things in small batches for days in preparation of our little feast. French bread was baked four days prior in order to sit and get stale for stuffing (and other purposes at later dates that require stale bread), pie crust was made and frozen, and the day before, I made some spectacular biscuits and pumpkin pie.

This years pie, though, was made with a butternut squash (here in Aussie land called a butternut pumpkin). Also, rather than roasting it, in the interest of saving time, energy and money on our power bill, I cut it into chunks and steamed it. It turned out to be one of the creamiest pies I have ever made. The taste was basically the same as using any other pumpkin, too, with maybe a bit more sweetness.

Day of was, of course, turkey roasting day. Stuffed absolutely FULL of stuffing, our little 3.5 kilo bird went in the oven along with candied sweet potatoes, MORE stuffing, and a random corn "pudding" concoction that was the result of two recipes I found online.

Carving the turkey. I think Phillip was trying to show off my bump.

Le finished table setting.
Biscuits, mashed potatoes (with ranch), stuffing,
turkey, corn "pudding", gravy, green beans,
and, Phillip's favorite, candied sweet potatoes.
Also some grape juice.

We're just adorable, us three.

Experimental butternut pumpkin pie.
Seriously GOOD. Topped with homemade whipped cream.

The one that got away

Phillip had most of last week off work. It's been slow the past few months, moving people, since the economy isn't fantastic and now, we're at the end of the tax year.

But for the most part, we enjoy his days off and use them to our advantage; either staying at home getting things done with each other, "shopping", or visiting people. The weather was so wonderful this last week though, that we talked ourselves into some fishing.

See, you can buy a fishing licence here for freshwater fishing and fish for a whole year (August to August) with that licence. Or you can go sea fishing for free. I'm not clear on the benefits of one over the other other than price and that you really can't catch trout as they only live in fresh water (and Tasmanian trout are apparently quite wonderful). 

But I digress. We went fishing at Port Sorell. The Jetty, to be precise. (Last time we went, we were at Squeaking Point at Port Sorell).

So when we got there, there was a kid standing around, looking to be between 12 and 14. And it's a school day, mind you, so my husband tried to make conversation with him (we found out he only goes to school Tuesdays and Thursdays, and was asking for a light for his cigarette), before he wandered off. We began fishing and caught a few very small flat heads (which, I found out the hard way, are 90% spines. Even when you grab them flat on the head, they're just full of spines) and the kid showed up again, this time with a rod and reel, and a small lure he began to randomly cast into the water, wandering all about the pontoon. 

I may have problems myself...

Then, as I reeled in to check my bait (we'd been getting lots of small nibbles and loosing our bait this way) I get a NICE bite, and reel in a decent sized Cocky Salmon! Phillip scoops the fighting thing into his net and the kid appears out of nowhere to reach into the net saying "I'll get it for you!" and GRABS my fish! TAKES the hook out, and runs to our bucket HOLDING MY FISH to get water into the bucket and put my fish in. 

He then starts poking at the fish, absolutely obsessed with it, and saying he wished he had something to catch fish with because his lure just won't work. So Phillip offers him a hook, sinker, and some of the chicken we've been using because, really, we've got plenty. This amuses the child for a good half hour or so, until his sinker slips because he tied it on wrong. So he gave up and, instead, started picking and biting at his finger. To bleed himself. "To attract the sharks" he said. 

Ok.

And he was OBSESSED with my fish. He even grabbed it out of the bucket again to get it fresh water. And sat over the bucket watching it and playing with it. Which... you just don't do. You just don't mess with someone elses fishing things or fish unless they give you explicit permission. And here in Australia, they seem to really have a thing about "this is MINE" and you just don't touch other people's things. For example, in the States, it might be a compliment, something desirable, to have a stranger come up to you and ask to pet your dog while you're taking it for a walk. Here, you just don't. Don't do it. That's someone elses dog. Do not touch. So, if it's someone elses fish, and possibly expensive fishing equipment, you REALLY don't touch.

Phillip also caught a few crabs

So I convinced Phillip to just bleed it already so we could pack it up. Because by this time, I was afraid he would throw my fish back in. So he does, and the kid wants the head to fish with, to try and catch a skate. And at this point, we just want the kid to leave. It's one thing to hang around, talk, fish with each other, but he's getting far too hands-on with our things and we're not quite sure how to nicely tell him he needs to back off. But we give him the head and toss the bloody water from my fish into the water. 

10 minutes later, I'm reeling in again to check my bait and something SLAMS into my hook. I start reeling whatever it is in quickly, letting it run JUST a little, so I don't snap my line and I can tire it out a bit. Phillip grabs the net and runs to the side, looks in, reaches, and the kid steps in front of him. They're both yelling that it's a barracuda. Barracuda! Over a foot long! As Phillip reaches to get it in the net, and I continue to reel it in, the child GRABS MY LINE AND PULLS. If you don't know, this releases all the tension that is keeping the fish on the hook. I stop reeling because I'm afraid I'll cut this kids hands with the line with all the tension on it, and he lets go, stands in front of Phillip again (Phillip was trying to figure out how to scoop up the fish without knocking the kid into the water), and grabs the line AGAIN. 

RELEASING MY FISH.

We were.... upset. To put it mildly. 

And really, when you go fishing, how often do you really expect to catch something? Much less something you can keep? Much less something so COOL as a barracuda?

Olive oil, salt, dill, slice of fresh lemon

We went back to the same spot the next day, but ended up not staying because four people there had eight rods. Jerks. There was no room on there and I've never gotten such icy glares from old guys before as when we walked up to check things out. And the kid came back, too. He told us he couldn't fish there either because one of the guys had pushed him in before.

But, we got to eat at least one fish. And that's cool, right?

Random stir-fry of whatever veggies are in the fridge?
Left-over mashed potatoes?
Delicious rice and fresh fish?
Yes PLEASE!

One-Year Anniversary

We celebrated our one-year anniversary.

Which, while being totally awesome (I mean, it's the FIRST anniversary of being married for one whole year, meaning we're officially no longer newlyweds), is just a little bitter-sweet to me. Mostly because it has now been (over) a year since I've seen any of my friends or family.

But more with the good memories of one year of marriage.

Phillip showed up, home from work, dressed in his full wedding suite. Tie, shoes, everything. With a massive bouquet of pink and white lilies, daises, and three roses (one for each of us, and one for our first year anniversary, he said). 3 days later, the rest of the lilies are still blooming and smell absolutely wonderful.

I made our rack of lamb (from that lamb we bought) so rare I think my mother-in-law would cry. It was DELICIOUS though. Best lamb I have EVER had. We ate it with plenty of roasted pumpkin and garlic-basil mashed potatoes. Phillip said that, with food this good, how are we ever going to find a restaurant better to eat out at? (since we very rarely eat out). I'm not trying to brag, really, but it was the best meal I have ever made. Or the lamb was, at least. Oh, and the lemon brownies we had for dessert. Which I found via pintrest. And have had tremendous success with.

So what have we learned in one year of marriage?

• Phillip has an unhealthy obsession with pancakes. Which is partly ok because I make them pretty excellently, with oatmeal, linseed, and home-ground wholemeal flour.

• NOT taking yourselves seriously all the time really helps, well, a lot of different situations.

• Being honest with yourself first and then with each other helps smooth over a lot of potential (and actual) disagreements and arguments. 

• I am a control freak in the kitchen and I have to leave the room if Phillip is going to make anything.

• Men (or, Phillip) need to be told EXACTLY what is needed or wanted. Hints just don't work. Period.

• We don't always mean what we THINK we're saying. Or what we say isn't what we mean. Asking and clarifying without malice solves a lot of things.

• Talk. A LOT. About anything and everything. Genuine communication really is key to keeping things running smoothly. Even if that's saying "I just need 15 minutes of my own time." or, "thanks for leaving your smelly socks in the laundry room so they don't stink up our room."

• It is O.K. to NOT spend all your free time together. 

• Do things together.

• The need to be romantic never stops. For BOTH of you.

• Every day you CHOOSE to love each other.

• You choose to fight. You can choose to defend your pride or respond to anything hurtful that's said. Or you can choose to show love and not say anything negative or retaliate. Walking away to let things settle down is O.K., as long as you both understand that that is what is going on. Sometimes, you'll realize whatever was making you angry, wasn't all that big a deal.

• Pray for each other.

• Find married couples who seem to have it together. Talk to them. Listen to them. You're not going crazy, what you're experiencing is normal. Or people have had it worse than you.

• Unite over a common enemy if you're fighting with each other. Like the cat who decides to poop in the hallway. 

• Laugh at things. Like the cat who pooped in the hallway. Or nearly burning down the house.

• YOU, as a couple, are more important than anything. More important than family drama, more important than work and money, more important than assembly and church duties, more important than friends.
• It's nice to just be with someone that accepts you for who you are, whether that's slightly crazy, obsessive, slightly controlling, or just plain weird.

• We are both bigger nerds than we let on when we were dating or engaged. It's pretty awesome.

And... that's about it for now. Otherwise I (or we, Phillip has been sharing and laughing over this list with me as I write it) will start to sound superfluous. 

While it hasn't been a terribly hard year of marriage, it's had it's downs. But overall, I'm really looking forward to many more just like it or (hopefully) better.

And, I'm curious, have any of my few readers any advice for the years to come, or things they themselves have learned? Share in the comments if you'd like, we'd love to read them.

Fourth... no, Fifth of July

We had a somewhat belated Independence Day celebration here.

I'm not overly patriotic (though a good rendition of "The Star Spangled Banner" will bring tears to my eyes, and no, I'm not going to give up my American citizenship unless someone forces my hand), but I like celebrating. Even a tiny little bit.

But, since the Fourth of July is not a world-wide holiday (though some Americans might be surprised by that), there were no fireworks, special town celebrations, or BBQs to go to. Instead, Phillip and I spent the day (he DID have the day off work, but more because no one was moving) at his parents house splitting more wood to help replace what we take to heat our house, and help clean up all the wood that, well, needs to be split.

And only 84% MEAT! Pork and beef. Mmmmm....

We ended up eating a Fourth feast on the FIFTH of July (though that would have been the Fourth back in America anyway... so if you ignore the whole time-traveling thing, it still counted. And anyway, most towns don't seem to actually set off fireworks or do anything celebratory until the weekend before or the weekend after the Fourth if it falls in the middle of the week).

So we found a new brand of hot dogs to try. They come in a can, and we were somewhat hesitant to try them, but figured they couldn't be that much worse than the ones we'd already eaten. But, I decided to make burgers on top of that, as well as a mountain of baked regular and sweet potato fries, in case the hot dogs were more than we could handle eating.

6 hot dog, 2 burger, and some random little bits to dip in jam.

While my hot dog buns didn't really turn out well for hot dogs, they tasted FANTASTIC (to be fair, the recipe called for potato flakes, which I had none of, so I just used more flour. And I probably used to much butte). Really, all that was wrong with them was they weren't flexible enough to open and hold a hot dog. I didn't care, I'll make them again just to eat with jam they're so yummy. The hot dogs though. Oh my. They're the best we've had so far, I think. Still not a great dog, but really good. Definitely a repeat.

We ate ourselves into oblivion. Fresh baked fries (though I'm now in the habit of calling them chips... assimilation), spicy Tabasco mayo for the sweet potato ones, fresh baked rolls for the dogs and burgers, and watching Psych with the hubby. It was a good night.

This isn't even half the amount of fries I made.
We operate on the thought that one can
never have too many sweet potatoes.

Marry HAD a little lamb...

One of the (surprisingly many) benefits to living in the middle of nowhere is plenty of land and having friends who raise animals on it.

My husband's family is friends with just such an family, and we just bought a yearling lamb from them.

The lambs were delivered to the abattoirs last weekend, and this Friday, we got the meat. Came out to about $6 a kilo for the lamb (which is what the sale price is on BBQ lamb chops at the butcher we frequent).

Not only is the a free-range lamb (not sure if there is any other kind?), raised by people we know, but it's cheap. And tasty. We ate some last night, right after I'd divided up the cuts into two-person-meal sized bags and put them in our freezer. The whole lamb, by the way, will provide us with over a months worth of meals.

Back to cooked lamb, though. Neither of us are big fans. Unless it's roast lamb. Roast lamb is fantastic. Lamb most other ways I'd had before, not so much. It's just... gamey, tough, and, well, it's lamb. But it's everywhere here (the unofficial meat of Australia I think. I haven't looked it up), so I looked up and invented a few recipes, and now we quite enjoy eating lamb (which is good since, you know, we bought a whole one).

The first night of lamb was something I have affectionately titled "Goin' on down to Egypt Lamb". Because it's made with as many leeks and garlic as I can put into it. It's a funny name if you like Bible humor.

But anywho, I chopped up some of the undersized leeks from our garden (I'll be the one planting the leeks next season. Or at least making sure it's done properly by a certain husband of mine). Salted and seared the lamb chops a bit, threw in the leeks, chopped some garlic and threw that in, and then used the chops to kind of stir the whole concoction to coat them a bit with leek-y garlic-y goodness. Put in a tablespoon or so of water, put the lid on and let them cook away.

It's delicious. Unless you don't like leeks or garlic or red meat.

*Note: I am aware that you're not meant to use the green part of the leek. But these leeks were severely undersized. And we really really wanted leeks, so I caved a bit and used only JUST a little of the green bit, right were it starts to go from white to green.

Also, those mashed potatoes were full of New Zealand spinach, also from our garden. I've taken to putting it in mashed potatoes because it's a really bitter, and sometimes it's just easier to use one pot instead of two, or adding a steamer.

The Hopping Pot

Last night, I made Roo Tail Soup.

Yet again, cooking Australians icon and eating it.

It was pretty good. I tried looking up recipes online, but my pantry, while well stocked, still lacks some things like: bay leaves, red or white wine vinegar. Things I can get by without so we can just purchase chocolate instead. Anyway, with that slight sidetrack, actual recipes contained things I didn't have, or involved doing things like marinating the tail for days. I... was not willing to wait. It's been some chilly days and we were in the mood for soup. So I loosely followed a recipe and just ended up throwing things in the pot that sounded good anyway.

Ingredients:
One small roo tail, from this roo (lightly floured and fried up quickly in oil)
3 potatoes
1.5 carrots (half happened to be in the fridge and needed to be used)
1.5 onions (same as above)
Some garlic cloves
Fresh sage from the front garden
Oregano
Salt
Pepper
Enough water to JUST cover everything
A tiny bit of homemade hot sauce that's basically Worcestershire sauce we got from Phillip's uncle
And then I threw in some red wine for good measure

I have issues with measuring when I make some things. It then simmered on the stove for about 5 hours.

Just barely thawed and out of the plastic baggy

I know, it doesn't look that appetizing, this giant stick of tail sticking out of a bowl in some not-so-colorful veggies

It tasted quite good. I have a feeling that the tail is one of the fattiest parts on the roo, because anything else I've cooked or eaten has VERY little fat on it. This was deliciously fatty, though. All the yummy marrow and natural fats from the meat came out in the slow slow cooking, and this needed nothing at all but bread to dip into the liquid and sop up all the goodness. And we just stripped the meat off the tail (well, more sucked it off) with our teeth, wishing there was more of it.

I looked up, like I said, recipes online before I did this, and some included beef stock, and then there was some guy, who, while a little overboard I think, made some sense saying that pollutes the flavor of the roo. He was, however, using actual kangaroo, that looks fairly fresh, while we use wallaby that has been properly dried and the frozen for a number of months. I didn't add the beef stock, though, and the soup was wonderful without it.