A Visit from Aunt Jojo

My sister just (well, a week ago) left us from a glorious ten day visit.

I didn't realize how lonely I get until I had her with me for a whole ten days.

It's not just the loneliness that comes with being a stay-at-home mom. It's just living here, isolated, away from family, away from friends I've had since... forever. With a time difference that makes talking to people sometimes difficult to line up, and everyone (myself included) having fairly busy lives, so contact is limited even more.

So it's lonely here. But I don't notice HOW lonely until I have someone with me. Especially a WOMAN someone. Especially my SISTER.

It was a great visit. And I miss her terribly.

Mmmm. Wallaby.

We did a lot of the typical stuff with her that we do with all our visitors who stay long enough to do things with. Local wildlife at Wings Wildlife Park, ice cream, multitudes of honey and bees at Melita Honey Farm aka The Honey Place, fudge and coffee at Fudge n' Good Coffee, fish n chips, the beach (not together this time... because of naps and rain and mostly naps), being inside an I-spy picture at Reliquaire, and sampling local or national foods and drinks at random places very close to us. Including a wallaby my brother-in-law shot for us that I brined for a few days and roasted (best tasting wallaby I have EVER made).

Joanna had a benefit none of our other guests have had, though. I have my Australian drivers licence (because my permanent resident visa was approved, Yay! It's a long long story, that one), and finally feel (sort of) comfortable driving around myself. On the wrong side of very narrow roads.

Playing with Aunt Jojo in his "hole".
It is not a slide, it is a hole.

Of course, since she's family, Joanna spent a TON of time with her nephew. And Simon soaked it up. He adores his "Aaa Joooo" (Aunt Jo). His thought process probably went something like this: "Someone to play with me, make noises, color, is completely at my beck and call? And is closer to my height than Mama and Daddy? I LOVE YOU!" He loves her so much, in fact, that when she left, he kept asking where she was, and has, for 5 days now, thrown MASSIVE tantrums at dinner time (his time to process why his new favorite person is no longer with him). How do I know it's over Joanna leaving? I don't 100%. But after about 15 minutes of screaming, crying, and flailing he scarfs down his food quite happily (including broccoli and kale), so it's not a food issue.

Wings Wildlife: Where you can pat and feed
kangaroos.
It. Is. AWESOME.

Joanna (and all of us) got to pat the baby Devil!

Who needs to pat a baby Tasmanian Devil?
Simon has LEAVES.
Because those are rare...

Simon being cheeky with the wonderful woman who was
giving talks and letting us pat the animals.

We all got to pat Doug,
the most adorable baby wombat EVER.

I thought a bird this large would be SCARY.
Nope, like me, he LOVES the emu!
He tried to share his water with it.

We miss you Joanna! We were so glad to have you visit us!

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. 

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...

A Visit from Home

It has been just over two years since I got married and moved to Tasmania.

And we HAD been planning a trip back home for my cousins wedding (where we would be able to meet up with lots of family all at once, as well as partake in the lovely event) that just didn't work out.

Now that we're fully immersed in parenthood,  it's kind of hard to say "yes we will travel 27 hours worth of flights with a small baby", and stick to a date. I mean, Simon is exhausting at the best of times, let alone being stuck on a plane for 13 straight hours and undergoing major time zone changes. So we haven't exactly been able to make rock solid plans about trips (though we have had tentative ones about visiting in the next 6 months or less).

So instead, my parents decided to come to us.

I mean, two years is a long LONG time. And of course they needed to meet their first grandchild (I joke that he was probably the main reason the came... and it's only a half joke. I'm still pretty sure he's the main reason they came, and I don't blame them. He is an adorable child, even when he's exhausting).

I kind of tentatively looked forward to their visit at first, just because the more contact with home and people back there that I have, the harder it is to be here and not want to curl up in a ball of sadness over missing my family and friends. And the occasional hot dog. So the thought of my parents coming and spending two whole weeks with me, of actually getting to HUG them again, made my heart hurt. Because I miss them so so much. The closer their day of arrival came though, the more excited I got to see them, hug them, talk face to face with them, and show off my boy and finally share him with some of the most important people in my life (and the grandfather he's somewhat named after).

I sobbed like a baby when I first saw and hugged them.

Sadly, their visit was only two weeks, which really isn't a lot of time when you take into consideration you loose an ENTIRE day to travel, jet lag, a small baby, sick parents and travelers, and a mamma who still isn't too great at driving all over Tasmania. We did manage to do the important things 'round here though on their visit.

Popop (my dad) showing Simon some birds

Of course we managed a visit to Wings Wildlife Park, the MOST important thing to do, since when you come to Australia, you of course want to see the bizarre wildlife. And pat it. And listen to some pretty cool employees give talks about the animals. And Wings is, I have heard, the better of the two wildlife parks close to us. Having only been to Wings, I'll just continue to say they totally rock and we'll probably only ever take visitors here.

Mom patting a wombat
(This was my personal second favorite thing!)

Mom joining the mob of female kangaroos

Dad being overtaken by mammas and joeys

Oh hi der! We'll be friendz, right?

There was eating fish 'n' chips on the beach. Sadly, we got there at the end of high tide, so we couldn't look in many tide pools. And the wind was pretty chilly. But not so bad that we couldn't fully enjoy our delicious fish 'n' chips and then do a little beach combing.

First trip to the ocean!
Well, second if you count that time we had to pull over for a feeding.

The Honey Farm, of course, for some of our favorite ice cream, tasting of some unique Tasmanian honey, and the drive there, which takes you down some twisty roads that are... interesting for tourists to drive on. Narrow, curvy, LOTS of blind corners, and, you know, the whole driving on the left side of the road instead of the right.

Sleepy boy, still likes playing with... anything.

We made two stops at my favorite place in Sheffield,

Fudge 'n' Good Coffee, for the obvious. Our last visit there was Mom and Dad's last day, so Simon and I picked out a box of fudge to send home as a very late graduation gift to my brother. Sadly, he had a cold when he got his gift, and hasn't indulged in the deliciousness yet, saying he doesn't want to miss out on anything because of congestion, so he has yet to tell me how fantastic it all tastes.

"Our" backyard

Mom and Dad rented a car while they were here because Dad thought it would be fun to learn to drive on the other side of the road. And something about not wanting to inconvenience us. So for a few mornings, while I was still dragging myself out of bed after only four hours of sleep (Simon went through a growth spurt and a "thing" during the visit and did. not. sleep.) and trying to not look and feel like I'd only gotten four hours of sleep, Dad would take off for a few hours and do some trout fishing. He bought a seven day licence, had Phillip tell him a few places to go, and caught nothing. But did, I believe, manage to see some pretty scenery and startle some wallabies.

Then, of course, there was visiting friends and my in-laws, letting my parents get to see what our life consists of, and then lots and lots of just hanging out around the house, letting Simon get to know his grandparents, And me, just soaking in as much of their company as I could.

Celebrating Simply

Being that Phillip and I are still learning to care for an infant, our birthdays and 2 year anniversary passed with very little celebration.

Not that either of us are really into celebrating our birthdays anyway, it's just nice to give/get a little gift(s), and do something out of the ordinary.

Phillip's parent's did throw us a family get-together at their house. It's Phillip's family's tradition to get together at the birthday person's house for a meal, which we did last year (combining our birthdays so as to not have to do it twice). Because Simon was only one month and a bit for both our birthdays, we just plain didn't want to have people over for more than an hour. So the in-laws having the meal for us was pretty nice.

For our ACTUAL birthdays, Phillip and I have decided we won't do much in our household. Whoever's birthday it is gets to pick a nice meal for dinner (nearly no limits on what you can choose), and the other person makes it. Phillip chose chili and cornbread (though he bought corn FLOUR instead of corn MEAL and so cornbread was out), and I was able to, over the course of two days, make mini sour cream apple pies for him to enjoy over a few days. I got salmon and veggies (which Phillip did an admirable job cooking!). Gifts were, well, again with the not getting out much or having much time, I never got to shop. Phillip gets to spend money on ministry books he wants instead, and he got me a mini trampoline (which turns out is nice to bounce on and put the baby to sleep. Exercise+baby sleeping= happy mamma).

Our anniversary, well, we had no idea what to do this year. Last year, I made a really really nice meal and we just had a nice time at home. This year, I'm too worn out most days still to do the same. And the fact that I am exclusively breastfeeding means getting a babysitter is out of the question. So, we agreed to just go out for a treat of coffee and fudge at a nice gallery/coffee house in Sheffield, Fudge 'n' Good Coffee.

Red-topped fudge was the Drunken Chocoholic.
We dove right in.
Close fudge is "Moreish Mocha"

It's a classy, comfy, little place, that kind of reminds me of the nice non-Starbucks coffee places back home. You know, the family owned places that make really good coffee, and are just warm and homey and make you want to sit back and really enjoy your coffee that comes in a real mug (rather than a cardboard cup) and relax. The fact that it also doubles as an art gallery that features local artists is really nice too.

Our anniversary treats were Vienna coffees (delicious coffee topped with slightly sweetened whipped cream), and two marvelous blocks of fudge. The new one made just the day before kind, was "The Drunken Chocoholic", made with Cabernet Sauvignon and spiced chocolate. SO GOOD! The perfect fudge to celebrate an anniversary with, in my opinion.

Going out on a date like this with a baby was relatively stress-free. We got to sit at a cozy corner table with Simon in his stroller while we enjoyed our coffee and fudge and each others company (with the occasional peak at Simon to laugh at his "surprised and attentive" face). And he was content enough with half sleeping and listening to new noises like coffee grinders, milk steamers, and ladies laughing.

Last Fling and Wallabies

In February (I know, this is RIDICULOUSLY late in coming!) Phillip and I went out for a sort of "last fling" kind of meal, to enjoy a nice night out to dinner while it was just the two of us, one last time.

We ate at the country club in Launceston at the Terrace Restaurant.

But rather than regale you with stories and photos of what food we ate (I didn't take any, nor do I particularly remember what the food was like other than really good), I thought my non-Australian viewers would at least find the photos I DID take interesting.


Well, not all of them. Sometimes I get tired of playing tourist and taking lots of bad photos, so I stop after only a few bad ones instead. And give you, lovely readers, the cream of the crop (they're still somewhat bad though this time, but I thought someone could enjoy them. Maybe.).

Mamma and her joey (click to view larger image)

Mayhaps you remember in other blog entries I said something about wallabies being a pest around Tasmania, nearly as bad as rabbits? This was the first time I saw them in near-plague proportions. And only JUST outside the city. My photos poorly portray this viewing. They were everywhere around the country club. Just not close enough for nice photos in low light with a point-and-shoot camera.

But really. LOTS of wallabies.

I seeeee you!

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.