That right there is what my backyard looked like earlier today (and still pretty much does because the rain just won't stop!). And this is my brother's poor dog, Zari, who can't understand where all the wet stuff is coming from - and why it's about to eat her nice dry bed:
It's wet. Really, really wet. It's been raining here almost continually since Christmas, and isn't supposed to let up for at least another twenty-four hours. This morning, because of the amount of water flowing from our neighbours overflowing pool, I spent a good half hour digging trenches in ankle-ankle deep septic and pouring rain, to relieve the build-up that was causing our grey water to back-up into out kitchen sink.
Today I got covered in poo-water, and have still had a far better day than residents in towns like Dalby, Condamine, Chinchilla, St George, and Gympie. Today my own town joined the ranks of the disaster zone, with Toowoomba and the Lockyer Valley being pummelled by a torrrent of water that has left businesses and houses in ruin, at least 6 confirmed dead, and many more people unaccounted for.
The water rose within minutes, causing waves of water to sweep down the main streets of Toowoomba, washing away cars and furniture, and shattering store windows in the process. In the Lockyer Valley, a number of small towns - towns I grew up in and around - are fully submerged, with over thirty people unaccounted for in Grantham alone.
And there's more on the way with another downpour expected tonight.
There has been an outpouring of help for the affected areas, with almost $AU30,000,000 raised already, which is amazing! But that's not nearly enough - in fact it would barely cover the costs to help out the least affected areas of the state. Thousands have lost their homes or businesses, many have nothing left but the clothes on their back. Farmers have lost not only their crops, but their livestock, pets, and machinery. And after fifteen years of drought, it's too far back for many rurals.
So if you can - even if you're on the other side of the world - give a little, please. Many of these people are not only having the worst possible start to the year, but they missed Christmas as well.
Breakfast. Supposedly the most important meal of the day, but also possibly the most contentious. Among my friends there’s a broad selection of breakfast eaters: the never-skip-it, the eat-it-because-it’s-good-for-you, the coffee-only, and the never-eat-it (also known as the don’t-have-timer). I myself used to be a staunch supporter of the don’t-have-timer club, frankly because I much preferred the extra twenty minutes sleep I could get if I skipped breakfast. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realised how much better I feel (and function) with the help of a morning kick-start.
My problem has always been finding something to eat that is both quick (still like that extra few minutes), yummy, and healthy to start the day with. When I’m feeling energentic I’ll get in and cook up some poached eggs, or practice my less-than-spectacular omelette skills, but for the most part I’ll stick to cereal or toast, usually with vegemite or homemade jam slathered thick.
Since I like homemade jam so much I figured it was time to try (again) to make my own. I had a pile of peaches that had to be used, so it was the perfect time to try Tartelette’s Confiture de Peche. SO GOOD! So, so, so, so, SO good—and so incredibly simply it’s impossible to screw up. The only problem is stopping myself eating it straight from the jar.
While I was making jam, I figured I’d keep the breakfast train rolling and make another batch of my absolute favourite breakfast cereal. To be honest, I’m usually pretty anti-cereal. For the most part it’s either sugary or flavourless, and always gets so soggy so quickly.
Enter the super-cereal: granola! It’s filling, flavoursome, stays super crispy, and is pretty healthy if it’s made right. So how do you make it right? You make it yourself! I’ve spent the holiday season perfecting a granola recipe that was super delicious but also not too sugary, and finally came up with the one below last night. It’s a bastardisation of this one from Nigella Lawson, via Not Quite Nigella, which is also yummy but just a bit boring, and probably a wee bit too sweet, for me. Best thing about this granola—it tastes awesome straight from the packet as a late night snack.
Cranberry-Hazelnut Granola
2 ½ cups oats
½ cup sunflower seeds
175ml apple puree
2tsp cinnamon
½ cup golden syrup, or maple syrup
4tbsp honey
¼ cup brown or raw sugar
250g hazelnuts
250g macadamias (or any other nut you like)
250g dried cranberries
250g coconut flakes
1. Combine all ingredients, excluding cranberries and coconut, in a large bowl, mixing until everything is covered with sticky goodness.
2. Spread mixture over two baking trays (or if you’re lazy like me just use one and turn the mixture more often).
3. Bake at 160-170C for about an hour, turning halfway through baking, until everything is golden.
4. Once cooled crumble any large chucks, and stir through cranberries and coconut, and store in an airtight container.
My Dad and I don't always get along. Hmm...maybe I should say we are sometimes friends - it's probably more truthful. You see, my dad and I both have quick tempers - mine inherited from him - and are very stubborn - also from him - but that's about where the similarities end. In every way, we see things from the exact opposite angle which, more often than not, leads to a debate, which ultimately ends in a fight. We've yet to officially declare war, but it has been on the table once or twice.
It wasn't always like this though. As a kid, I remember seeing him as my hero, he could never put a foot wrong. In fact, most of my childhood memories throw him in a shining light. As a child he was amazing, and I was definitely a daddy's girl.
When highschool hit I began to develop my own opinions about the world, and our relationship started to crumble. Bit by shining bit my dad's rockstar aura faded until I found myself disagreeing with pretty much everything he said. He drives me mad with his small-mindedness, and I think I scare the pants off him by being so liberal and open-minded. Often my mother has to step in and tear us apart before we rip each other to shreds.
Even with all the fighting, and the general frustration he often stirs in me - and I'm sure I in him - I love and respect my father very much. After his dad died when he was a kid, he helped run the family farm. He left school at 16 to get a mechanic apprenticeship, and eventually worked himself into machinery sales, working as the top sales manager for firms like Case, Hardy, and John Deer. He has never been paid overly well - earning less than the average teaching salary while often working 60-hour weeks, and on the road 80% of the time.
The photo above is of us the day I graduated from university. As crazy as I've made him with my seemingly endless studies, I knew he was proud of me that day, and I know he's still proud of me - even if I am once again in studentville. I'm thankful for that and appreciate that he supports me when he quite clearly thinks I'm nuts.
Along with mum, he's helped instill in me a sense of responsiblity and pride in myself, and a belief in my actions and opinions - even if he doesn't often agree with them. He's also helped me out a hell of a lot when I've been short on cash, had to move house, or needed a lift around the corner, or interstate. He doens't understand me too well - I'm pretty much another species as far as he's concerned - but he tries to help, and I know he means well.
Today (or yesterday, as it's now past midnight) was his birthday. He's now seventy-one, and looking mighty good for his age, I think. He reckons he's got another twenty in him at least.
So here's to my dad - Seventy-one and every bit the rockstar he's always been - personality and all.
I'm heading to the beach with some of my favourite people for the New Years weekend. No doubt it will be a weekend of beach wanders, wave dunkings, and lot and lots of laughter. Hopefully it will be the catalyst to the start of a year of goodness and joy for all of us. I hope, for you too, the new year will see sunshine and lollipops coming your way, and will be a year to remember for all the right reasons.
Oh, and good luck with your resolutions if you're making some:
It's 3:30am Christmas morning and I've finally finished wrapping all the presents Darling Mother and I rushed around purchasing this week. I'm exausted, and honestly don't know how I'm going to get up in four hours for breakfast with our neighbours. Or how I'm going to muster up a whole day of Christmas cheer.
When I was younger I loved Christmas. The lights, the tree, the confusing carols tra-laa-ing about snow and sleighs while we were sweltering in thirty degree heat - I loved it all. Even a few years ago I remember counting down the sleeps, getting Christmas-ed up the whole month of December, and pushing through the mandatory family arguments to find that magic everyone talks about at this time of year.
But the past few years I haven't been able to find much (if any) of the elusive Christmas Spirit. At one of supposedly the happiest times of the year I seem to be finding myself dragging my feet in the cheer department. I still love the gift giving, and even with an incredibly tight budget this year, I've managed to shower my favourite people with gifts which I hope they will love. But even that was (horrifyingly) a struggle. And it seems I'm not the only one - so many people I've talked to the last few days seem to be feelin the same.
Friends and family are feeling lonely, sad, or just poor. Others are sick, anxious about looming problems, or have recently had a loved one pass away. Still more are just feeling like Christmas just came too fast and left them behind. For whatever reason it's just not the jolly season it should well be.
I went to church tonight and the readings, as is typical, were about the birth of Christ and the reason we celebrate this holiday in the first place - how he came into a world of pain and suffering to save us from the darkness. The Pastor talked about the beginnings of the Christmas Tree - a fir tree - (apparantly it was all Mr Martin Luther's idea - smart fella) and how it symbolised the growth of new life even in the deepest, coldest, darkest winter.
And I talked to my neighbour who's boys have been ill for the past 15 years, and still fight every day just to live without pain. She told me how the oldest one is still struggling to recover from surgery over a year ago, and how the youngest one is about to undergo a long process of similar procedures. And how a boy - the eldest's good freind who suffers from similar health problems - has just passed away. And, even with all that was happening in her life, the chance to spend Christmas with her family and neighbours was wonderous to her.
And I realised that maybe that's why so many people love Christmas so much - becuase even when everything is hell, Christmas - the ideal of goodness, and faith, and love that we celebrate through Jesus, and Santa, and just by giving gifts and spending time - that's why it's so important. It reminds us that even with all the bad stuff, deep down in the core of it all, this life is something special.
John reckons so too, so it must be true.
So, from me to you, I hope your Christmas is full of joy and happiness. But if it's not - if there's pain, or sadness, or loneliness, or if everything just seems too much, my thoughts and prayers are with you, and my hope is that you'll find some good at the heart of it all.
Merry Christmas.
So now that I've updated on the Tran adventure I can get down to what I really wanted to share today. This post is a bit of a shout-out to Miss Vodka, because I know how much she loves good design and, I think at least, this constitutes some pretty fine design.
It's called Jambox and it's a portable mini-speaker that provides big sound in a tiny littly package. I found if via Black Eiffel, the design blog chock full of awesome. Now while the Jambox itself is pretty neat looking, what I loved the most is the packaging.
I'm definitely one of those people who spent more time playing with the wrapping than the gift as a kid.
Thanksgiving has come and gone so it's only right that I should update on the Trans. I follwed this story through and it turns out the Trans were just as excited to make a new friend as James West was, so they invited him along to Thanksgiving and even offered to pick him up at the airport and spend the whole weekend with him. They ate, they drank, they gave thanks. They seemed to all be having a great time, and the Trans have not only invited West back again next year, but have invited themselves to Sydney to visit him.
The story, while maybe not viral, certainly seemed to gain a bit of momentum with West interviewed on Sunrise here in Australia, and a Tran/West interview with the local Florida news in America. In all the updates the Trans and West chatter and bicker like old friends, and the whole family seem completely relaxed and thrilled to have him share their Thanksgiving.
That said, obviously not everyone has felt that this adventure was a great idea. I think maybe in my last post I was a bit vague about a few things, and maybe exaggerated or generalised a bit too much - it's a bad habit, I know. What I probably should have said is that the majority of the people I know happily admit to randomly checking out (or "stalking" as it's jokingly reffered to) strangers on facebook - whether it be someone they met birefly and thought was cute, or an interesting friend of a friend they catch a glimpse of and suddenly want to know more.
I'm also not saying I totally agree with the way this whole thing started out - there was an intrusion of privacy, and the releasing of certain information. However, West, being a journalist, would surely have been well aware of where the line is in relation to the release private and confidential information. He would have also been aware of the risks he was taking in admitting to reading the Tran family emails - yet he did it openly and, I think, with respect, acknowledging that risk and not hiding behind a screen name or annonymous moniker. Things may not have turned out as sweet as they did, in fact they could well have got quite nasty, and props definitely should go to the Tran family for being so cool and welcoming.
I guess, while I saw the negatives in this whole thing from the get-go, I also saw a bit of what James West saw to come up with such a crazy idea. It's kinda nice that in a world where virtual and digital communication has led to less real physical contact, someone would create for themselves an opportunity to take a virtual communication into realtime, outside the realm of internet dating. As West states, there's a lot of mistrust and cynicism out there - what better way to dampen that than taking a risk on the opposing side and trusting that a hair-brained idea created on one side of the world would be met with good-will,a great time, and some new friends on the other?
