the art of Roux

I once invited myself in on a Cajun Gumbo cooking lesson presented by an authentic Louisianian.  Do you know what gumbo is?  They make it in that awesome Disney adaptation of the Princess and the Frog.  It's like gravy soup.  With lots of vegetables, especially okra for its thickening agency, a strong stock, and we added shellfish, chicken, and sausage.  We served it over rice, it was a hearty meal.

What I learned the most in that lesson was how to make a really decent roux.  Roux is the cooked mixture of flour and fat used as a base for lots of creamy soups and sauces.  The process of scraping the flour through the fat cooks the flour, creating both colour and flavour, just like toasting bread.  It has to be scraped quickly or it will burn.  During the gumbo making lesson, we made a huge quantity and practiced trying to scrape it all off the bottom of the pan in a few quick movements, over and over again. 

It's all a matter of having patience, if you add the liquid too early, your sauce will be floury and probably lumpy.  Now, every time I need to make a roux, I remember my gumbo lesson.  What a privilege, I'm glad I pushed on in.

An Incredible Journey

Last night I watched the doco. - Turtles: An Incredible Journey.  It put my life into a new perspective.  Loggerhead turtles start their life digging, for three days, and then they swim some 70 miles.  Only when they find a raft of seaweed on the Gulf Stream do they finally sleep for the first time in their lives.  The next 21 years are spent swimming through several oceans, finally mating and returning to their home beach.  Despite the odds, they have outlived dinosaurs.  Man can't get in their way, though we try hard enough. 

I swam with wild turtles once, on a visit to Malaysia.  It felt kind of amazing, like I was engaging in something bigger than me.  I hadn't even seen the doco.  I have a friend who once stayed awake all night on a beach in Malaysia, hoping to see the Leatherback turtle come in to lay their eggs.  They grow to be the size of a mini cooper.  No kidding.

I just think they're kinda neat, that's all.  Not mysterious though, not when you know of the Great Creator.

positive-thought-less day

Today is a hole in the middle hard day.  Maybe I'll tell you all about it one day, when I can see the lighter side of things. I have been watching the Dick Van Dyke show which sort of helps, but I can only watch 1.5 episodes before I'm bored, he's just too goofy.  They're short episodes, too.  As his screen wife, Mary Tyler Moore is too perfect.  

What do you do when life gets on top of you? 

Bread Puddin'

I always thought of Bread Pudding as soggy bread with raisins.  How do raisins help a situation such as that?  I was never sure: it seemed to me they would only make the dish worse.  I have been eating sandwiches since I was a young girl and the day the bread was soggy in my lunch box was a day I skipped lunch.  In those days, it was all on white bread too, we wouldn’t eat any other bread, and white bread is no match for a little bit of moisture.

My good friend in Baltimore taught me I was wrong in my presumption.  She gave me a recipe which involved croissants, egg yolks, sugar, cream, and chocolate chips.  Ever since then, I have been reformed in my thinking and have tried any number of good flavours in my bread puddings.  I guess chocolate chips are my favourite as Jbird was confused why I would put raisins into it, he only remembers it with chocolate chips! 

We had some left over Christmas Panettone.  It was dry and old from three days of sitting out on the buffet table.  So I made bread pudding for breakfast.  Cheeky.

Snow flakes a-falling

Today it finally snowed!  We were a bit bummed that we didn't get a white Christmas AGAIN but today was as good a day as any, especially because we didn't have anything on this morning.  

Snow is such an unusual thing to us Auckland kiwis that it always gives us a sense of excitement and wonder - it becomes hard to leave the window.  We're still at the house and every window offers another, prettier view of the flakes falling, and everything getting covered in a pretty white powder.  Each object is topped by white and becomes a magical item.

It has snowed most of the morning but is now sort of melting and turning into slush. I got some tartan gumboots from Jbird for Christmas, they're going to come in handy this afternoon as we move away from this winter wonderland, back to the flat.

The Movie Experience

I have a love hate relationship with popcorn at the movie theatres.  On the one hand, I always end up with bits stuck in my teeth, scattered all over my person and seat, and a funny feeling in my stomach.  On the other, it is delicious and makes you feel like you're at the movies.  

We saw Tintin in 3D on our annual boxing day trip to the theatre.  We didn't get popcorn but I definitely felt like we were at the movies - it's such a fun, exciting film to see.  Did you read the comics when you were younger?  I did, and I also loved seeing the images plastered all over Brussels on my trip to Europe with Syls in 2005.  I'm amazed at how accurately the movie portrayed many of the same story lines I read.  The images and characters were well represented - it was fun to see it all in motion.  Pre-movie, I couldn't muster much interest in going to this one, I thought it might be too dull. I definitely walked out with a smile on my face, ready for a late left-over feast back at home.

Our Antipodean Christmases

This is the third Christmas us three Birds have enjoyed together on this side of the world.  Normally a couple other kiwis join us too but this year it's just us.  These are the only Christmases Jbird and I know as a married couple, it will be strange to return home one day and take back the summer traditions together.

So far it's been lovely.  We got up nice and early to get Jbird to church to play the piano.  It's always nice to celebrate the reason with other believers.  There have been a few nice surprises for everyone under the tree.  We are in a bigger kitchen than we're used to which has been fun for Soph and I: food preparation is that much easier and it seems less messy.  We made the panettone into French bread for brunch with bacon and maple syrup.  We haven't drunk or eaten too much, and haven't yet broken anything. We could only be happier if it snowed! 

It's time for a Christmas movie before we start cooking dinner.  Merry Christmas!

Christmas = Food

After a day of barely anything: mulching around, dinner at friends; today is pre-Christmas baking day.  Soph’s on Christmas mince pies and I’m making a cherry pie and maybe some focaccia bread.  I’m dieing to make a panettone but that will depend on time and energy.  Perhaps I’ll do it after Christmas.  

Our food on Christmas day has been loosely planned.  Breakfast will be a mighty affair with cinnamon buns, bacon and eggs, coffee, cider, eggnog.  Some of the easy to assemble items for later in the day are the antipasto, brie smothered in croissant pastry.  We’ve got asparagus to wrap and cauliflower with a cheese sauce.  A potato and ham bake.  Pork tenderloin is our meat of choice, it came in a delicious marinade.  We will wash it all down with the pie and spiked apple crisp shooters.

Don’t forget the Christmas fruit cake – this family traditionally starts eating that on Boxing day.  I hope I survive all the eating! 

Nashville, IN

There’s a phenomenon which occurs during a wintery Christmas which doesn’t happen down in the summery southern hemisphere – the desire to be warm and cosy.  To achieve this, we tend towards being housebound, with the fire lit, and the Christmas lights on.  However, there’s nothing better than going out, to appreciate a cosy house on arriving back home.  

Yesterday, after a lazy morning, we took a short drive to Nashville, Indiana.  The drive out there wasn’t very long but it followed rivers and meandering leafless woods such as we never see in NZ.  Nashville is the cutest little town I can remember seeing with a main street and a few little side roads.  It offers Nashville-made fudge, caramel corn (flavoured, sweet popcorn), wine and candles.  We had a glorious afternoon wine tasting and wandering through the many gift and antique stores.  As the sun set, the buildings were all lit up with magical Christmas lights.  Happy days.

Uh Oh, she's losing it

I had a moment in Walmart yesterday where I wanted to be that bratty kid, lying on the floor, tantruming.  It was pretty sad.  Do you ever get like that?  To make matters worse, I didn't get it under control and actually hopped out of the car at the lights and walked for a bit.  It helped me let off some steam but made Jbird feel pretty stink, I'm sure.

Since then I have been thinking about the privilege of having people, and how I sometimes take that for granted.  Day to day life is not always going to go my way, no matter what I do.  Other people are involved too, luckily, and it's actually much nicer to live life with people.  Like the schools of little fish in the stream that I bike passed on the way to the supermarket - it's better to swim against the current with the school, growing bigger and stronger together, than to stay in the shallows remaining small, weak, and alone.

At this time of year, I bet there a bunch of people who have to be alone but I have friends and family to be with.  Lucky little me.

Light a candle in my window

Because we have a car this week, as we look after Ella the puppy, we get to drive around and look at all the Christmas decorations on people's houses.  I'm at the point where if a house hasn't been decorated, I'm disappointed in the owner.  I'm not fussy, just a strand of lights would be fine!  There are some that are really, really decorated.  They're exciting to see and often catch our attention for almost too long - it could be dangerous if you're the driver.  There are giant moving snowmen.  Blue trees.  The Grinch that stole Christmas.  Any more than ten yard ornaments and I wonder if they're part of a competition.

The house we're in has candles in the windows.  The first time I saw these in Baltimore, I thought they were really cheesy.  Now I consider them homey and inviting.  The house also has a wrapped door, as though it were a gift, and a tree covered with lights on a timer.  It's simple but nice, especially with it being so cold out.

I never thought I'd say this but when we live in a house, we're looking forward to decorating it for Christmas.  A little.  Maybe a lot.

How American are you?

Sweet As.  I used to say that a lot.  It probably means no problem or oshubida ney (in Bangla).  I still say the latter, in my head.  On moving to Bangladesh, my Texan friend informed me she thought I was telling her she had a sweet ass when she first heard me say it.  Oh, a sweet arse?  But I don't say arse like ass!  Truth be told, I did say arse a lot too, but it's slipped from my vocab.  I've replaced it with stink.  For now.  I still don't say ass, but I do say ya'll.  Also, trash, sweater and cookie.  Bickie, as in NZ biscuit which is a cookie.  Instead I buy biscuits which are scones in a pre-baked tube - they're too delicious to snub in the refrigerator aisle.  I often have a snack, it's replaced afternoon tea and is something I take with me in case I'm hungry later, but morning tea still happens at 10am.  I'm pretty sure we continue to have tea as dinner and pudding for dessert but my coffee is milky, not black.  I knit with yarn which may have a wool blend but is no longer ever referred to as wool.

Jbird says tomato like potato and he pours half and half into everything.  I do not.

A Wintery Christmas

It has taken a while to sink in that I have returned to winter.  The trees finally became bare while I was away and temperatures now hit zero or below frequently.  It takes me 5 minutes to undress every time I arrive somewhere.  Gloves, boots, hat, scarf, jacket, and a little bit later: sweater, are all peeled off so that I resemble a human instead of a lumpy snowman.  Our blinds are pulled at 5pm to ward off the cold.

Jbird, Soph, and I have been invited to house/dog/pot plant sit for the week over Christmas.  The perks are cable t.v. (holiday specials) and the loan of their car.  Their Christmas tree is about five times the size of ours.  To me, it's also the possibility of having a holiday away from home when we can least afford it.  Unfortunately, there is no snow forecast for Christmas.  Maybe it will surprise us?

Shall I start a collection?

Do you collect something unusual?  I have friends that own more than thirty nativity sets, other friends who must have about the same number of cuckoo and chiming clocks, and some that own hundreds of ornamental frogs.  Jbird and I have a few of this, a few of that, but no big collection.  

I've tried to start collections in the passed but I feel as though these things happen by accident.  You don't start out thinking: "I'm going to start a collection of...", you just have one and like it.  Then you see another and like that too so you buy it.  As it is, the things we cherish are in storage.  We try not to feel too attached to items we have here, we know how expensive it will be to get them all back to NZ.  Sometimes when we're given something, we say to each other: "This is going back home with us."  Only a few lucky items have this category attached to them, and even they may have to be discarded.  

I wonder if this position prohibits the beginning of a collection or if in 15 years time, we'll have found we own a collection.  I wonder what it will be.

A night off

I had a busy day yesterday, out of the house, with lots of lovely people.  I was talking all day.  I missed Jbird but I was a little bit glad to have the house to myself for a few hours in the evening as he had a gig.  Socialising can be exhausting at times.  

One of the the meals I love making when Jbird's not around is Fettucine Carbonara.  He doesn't love it - I think I may have made it wrong too many times.  If I get distracted, the eggs are likely to scramble or the sauce will be too thick or too runny.  But made properly, it is creamy and delicious.  I believe my new brother-in-law only orders this dish when he eats at his favourite restaurant.

We rarely have cream (or half and half as I used tonight), bacon, and fettucine in our fridge or pantry all at the same time as they're 'b-list' foods, ones I see as luxuries.  Last night, the moons must have been in alignment as they were all there!  I added some fresh tomato and chives for a little interest.  I wonder if I'd live up to my B.I.L's standards?

YumBo.

Another Great Pairing

We had our Christmas book club meeting last night.  When I say that, it sounds as though I'm a regular attender and have been going a long time. In reality, last night was my first time.  It was fun.

I brought homemade chocolate truffles to the meeting and someone else happened to bring yummy mandarins.  It reminded that for a few years, I was obsessed by the combination of chocolate, orange, and coffee.  They have to be good oranges, none of those watery, seed filled clementines that Jbird and I have had recently.  I'm not very fussy about the chocolate but I probably prefer dark at the moment.  

Revisiting the combination brings back memories.  Mandarins were my childhood afternoon tea staple for many years as we had all these fruit trees in the back yard.  I first discovered my enjoyment of all three together in Bangladesh where chocolate and good coffee are (were) hard to come by.  I later revisited them in our first year in Baltimore when my brother was visiting us for Christmas. 

Are there any food combinations or memories that you savour?

Best topping ever...

Jbird and I love to have dessert for breakfast at least once a week.  Either pancakes, waffles, crepes, or french toast.  They're our lie-in then brunch kind of breakfast.   This year we discovered a most excellent topping.  It's a combination of lemon curd, a berry sauce of some kind, and a creamy dairy.  Preferably heavy whipping cream or greek yoghurt.  This works well in home-made ice cream too.  It's just so good.  Jbird always adds a little maple syrup on his.  

What's your favourite topping?

Mostly Meyer Marmalade

On my quest to give mostly homemade presents for Christmas this year, I decided to tackle some meyer lemon marmalade in the kitchen yesterday.  I have unsuccessfully tried to make marmalade on two previous occasions, so I was dubious about it working this time.  I think those failed attempts taught me a thing or two regarding pectin, candy thermometers, cheese cloth, when I should add sugar, thinking twice about reducing the sugar amount, and over-cooking. 

I found a recipe which suggested the ratio 1:1:1 (sugar, lemon, and water) for Meyer lemons.  As they’re fairly sweet and have thin skin (and therefore less pectin), they require a little bit less sugar and water.  It also warned me not to try substituting real lemons into the recipe but I was short on Meyer so I ended up referring to my mother’s recipe too, adding in a little bit more sugar and water, and using a couple oranges and plain lemons.  It was a gutsy decision to make, but it turned into a sweet yummy marmalade and I can't wait to give it away. 

I’m excited about the day that my Meyer lemon tree starts producing fruit and I can use my own home grown fruit!

Meyer lemon are native to China and are a mix between orange and lemon.  My mother has a tree, I think she calls them lemonades.

Bite your tongue

Flying over a section of the snow dusted Rocky Mountains on my way to Denver, Colorado, and then Indianapolis, brought back memories of my first day of high school.  We had a Social Studies quiz.  I get the feeling our new teacher was trying to distill some fear in us, I certainly didn't know many of the answers.    One of the questions was: What State is the Rocky Mountains in?  A lovely redhead in the class who turned into one of my best friends, is an American.  She had just spent the American winter with her Grandparents in Colorado so she knew that the Rockies are in Colorado.  It was kind of a stupid questions as they hit a bunch of states, right? 

This teacher was not a very kind teacher, she was in it for the money, as they say.  Or maybe so she could flirt with the Social Studies teacher next door.  Anyway, she told my buddy that she was wrong - the answer in her teachers' manual was Idaho - and somehow she made her completely doubt herself, even though she'd just been in that part of the world and probably knew more than our teacher.  Our teacher was in a position of power and authority, she asserted herself and did not consider that she might not be right.  

I always hoped I'd never do the same as a teacher but I know I have.  My first year teaching was a particularly hard year and I said all sorts of things I regret now.  I am forming a New Years resolution based on this - I hope to focus on my conversation skills this coming year and somehow bring more grace into them.  I'll keep you posted as I formulate this more.

By the way, the view was incredible from my little window seat in the plane, until we hit Denver after which it was all flat: corn country.

Haere Ra, Aotearoa

Farewell NZ, land of the long white cloud

Yesterday was the never ending Sunday – 42 hours long.  It started with breakfast and church with the Stakkas.  I had lunch with my parents at the airport but by then I was itching to leave.  

The flight from AKL-LAX is an okay flight.  It starts mid afternoon and simulates night time which helps me to start changing my body clock to the new time zone, when we leave the plane it is morning.  The staff and food are kiwi, giving me the feeling I have not yet left NZ: muesli for breakfast, plunger coffee, a kiwi sense of humour.  Like moving a pot plant from the humid green house into a dessert environment, LAX thrusts me in the States.  There is no sense of order to the lines at immigration, people are tired and cranky from the long flight and forget how to be polite, and I am grilled by the immigration officer when my head cannot quite think straight.  

Following this is a day of further travel.  LAX-Denver-Indianapolis-Bloomington.  I take short cat naps, not sure if I’m asleep and then dead to the world.  Trying to regulate my body temperature, my feet are often cold.  I don’t know if I’m hungry or sick.  I’m fed peanuts, coffee, and a few crackers from home.  

Arriving home, Jbird greets me with flowers, a smile and a hug.  He has tidied the house, strung the Christmas lights.  I distribute small gifts to him and Soph.  I sleep well.

Changing Skies

Flying west across the States on my way here, I had a surreal moment as the plane I was in chased a setting sun.   I had been day-dreaming about the trip to come when I suddenly realised I'd watched the same sunset for 4 hours.  I felt suspended in time.

Driving north to Auckland this afternoon, I was mesmerised by the sky.  It was full of beautiful deep, purple-black clouds dropping fat rain drops while adjacent to me were sunlit hills and the bright Waikato river.  It could have been one of those pictures you draw as a child, rainbow and lightening flashes included.

I do like to observe the sky and I've recently been wondering what it would be like if it were the same every day, if it were constantly blue or constantly grey.  If the sun never set, or maybe it never rose.  Everything would be different.  Seasons, vegetation, comfort. We'd never regulate our sleeping patterns.  The position, shape and size of your house wouldn't matter.   I'm sure it would be quite boring too.

With that thought came the realisation that perhaps the magnificent of a beautiful sunset is found in the culmination of that particular moment.

Girl's Night

Whenever I stay at my sister's house we eat and drink too much and fall asleep too early.  This time she had gone shopping at Sabato for lovely ingredients: valaroha chocolate (oh my!), fancy cocoa, dried strawberries and figs and other lovelies.  Even though she was tired after the usual excessive Saturday activities with two lovely children, we sucked it up and baked two types of biscotti.   Chocolate and Hazelnut, and Christmas Mix.  K.-Stakkas and I enjoyed the crumbs, I will have to sneak a little taste into my suitcase for Jbird. 

It is loads easier to bake with more than one person.  Biscotti is twice baked, the first is a log but then it's cut and rebaked.  The issue comes in the crumbling, how do cafes do it?  It was lovely and fast to cut with two people.

With a couple glasses of Strawberry Lindeur, highlighted by chopped fresh strawberries, we baked, had pedicures, and watched Bridesmaids.  This was a perfect movie after the recent sisterly nuptials where we were bridesmaids three and four.  We're looking forward to getting to know the new family member - too bad Jbird and I are soooooo far away.

I've hit the mother-load

To replace the candles and Christmas goodies I brought here from Bloomington, I'm taking back with me: a new wardrobe, including both summer and winter items hand-me-downs from the pretty trendy Bride (who's also moving cities and had a purge) and last season's winter classics from Glassons; hand-me-down towels from the elder sister; old duvet covers for rag rugs and excessive amounts of yarn from a lovely crafty Aunt-who-understands; marmite and golden syrup for me; six loaves of vogels and eight packets of timtams for the Birds in Bloomington who miss home; textbooks for both Jbird and I; and a few Chrissy pressies. I'm still considering taking a bunch of succulent clippings over, but I'm not sure whether they'll get through American customs.

I feel weird.  I want to go but I want to stay. Life feels like it's ready to go back to normal here but it's not normal anymore so I have to go there.  One more day at the beach, a drive to Hamilton to help the newly-weds move in, and a meal with family, and I'll be on the plane.  Fly away little birdie.

A very Kiwi Christmas

Wandering through the paddock with mum and the niece and nephew, grass tickling our ankles, we're picking out the best tree for mum's lounge.  It's not too big, with a few pine cones attached and a good covering of branches and pine needles.  It takes some convincing, Maddy thinks it should be bigger.  Harry wants to do the sawing, he's a builder at two years old.  Maddy helps a bit too. The lady who sells it to us is wearing flip flops and sunnies.  This is normal for Christmas.

Later we decorate it with historic decorations, ones I grew up with, as well as a few newer ones.  I'll be gone soon, back to the winter, snow, and warm clothes.  It's alright.  These are my memories and this time, the time we're spending in the States, is giving us new memories.  Memories for our new family.

Swimming out the back

The day I learned that flippers would give me the strength to get passed the front waves, the wonders of swimming out the back of the surf was opened to me.  I love the risk and the excitement of being back there, with the other surfers, waiting for the large waves in a set.

Sometimes the conditions seem too good to be true.  The sun might be setting behind me into the horizon, the water perfectly clear and the waves have enough strength and size to give a thrilling ride.  When the waves are easy to get passed and seem to pick me up time and time again, and the sun is nice and warm, I never want to go in, not for food or rest or warmth.  I’ve been in angry surf too, where I have been afraid for my life and not one wave breaks alone, it’s a jumble of unidentifiable liquid.  That’s the surf I get out of quickly. 

I remember finding myself in a ten foot swell once.  The waves were perfect and clean so I was determined to get out the back to catch what looked like perfect waves.  I struggled through them for a long time, the surf life-savers came over in their motorboat and asked if I needed to be towed in.  I thought I was fine but when I finally made it out the back, and got to the crest of a huge wave, I felt like I was on the top of a two storey building and deciding to jump - I couldn’t do it.  I bailed back off the wave and swam slowly ashore, swimming into waves as they broke, hoping I wouldn’t die as I tumbled through them like a sock in a wash cycle.  

Check out my local spot - Piha.

I'm getting my word count in

As a beginning teacher in New Zealand, we are given a huge professional development allowance equalling one day every teaching week of the first year.  My flatmates always knew when I’d had my PD day because I hadn’t met my usual teacher’s quota of talking at work, so that evening I would talk and talk and talk and talk.  They’d say to me: didn’t you teach today?

Moving cities, with a lot less friends and virtually no work, and certainly no classroom teaching type work, I think I’ve learned to talk less.  Probably Jbird has to tune me out at times.  Because I’m only home for two weeks, I’ve prioritised to see a bunch of really close friends, we’ve had a lovely amount to catch up on and I get to talk and talk and talk and talk.  It has been wonderful.

I’m looking forward to growing a few ‘heart friends’ (see: this post) in Bloomington, those that I won’t feel I need to bite my tongue around too much.  It's not just that though, people who know my history, where I've come from.  It just takes time.

learnt or learned?  My NZ dictionary allows both...

New Plymouth-Wanganui-Auckland in a day

Driving home, my brother and I took a tiki tour further south to Wanganui to visit a cousin and her four kids.  The weather was pretty clear, though we had a little rain. This is one of Jbird's and my favourite little towns to fall upon, with a cute downtown, lovely museum and art gallery.  The museum documents the early settler days in photographs, some of the few that still exist, I imagine.  

Highway four, after Wanganui, is a winding, scenic highway with little traffic.  We drove through hilly farmlands, with stunning views of pine tree forests, New Zealand bush, valleys, craggy peaks and the mountains - including 'Mt. Doom'/Mt. Ngarahoe of the famous LOTR trilogy.    These were covered in clouds, their foothills and the odd glimpse of snow higher up peaking through, announcing their presence.  The gorse and cabbage trees were in bloom.

Though the tiki tour doubled our journey, I treasure the ability to drive here, at home, New Zealand place names flashing passed - Raetihi, Taumaranui, Te Kuiti, Otorohonga, King Country.

Are you dieing to hear?

There are many great things about being in a wedding party.  Some of my favourites are the early access to seeing the Bride's dress, having my hair and make up done, champagne with breakfast, and dressing up more than I usually do. 

This wedding was a really nice day, the weather was gorgeous. The votive candles I found in Bloomington worked perfectly, interspersed around different herbs growing in jam jars and place names written on leaves with a heart hole-punched out.  All the Aunties loved the dresses.  Silver/grey bridesmaid dresses with an interesting wrap detail, high neck and cute little poof sleeves.  Maybe I'll be able to wear this bridesmaids dress again!?  The big white dress was kind of phenomenal.  Empire cut, silk with lace over the bodice and a full skirt.  We had pink and green bouquets.  Can you picture it yet?  

The food was delicious.  There were huge New Zealand mussels for canapes, as well as different bruschetta with salmon etc.  I had a calamari entree and a scotch fillet the size of my head, cooked perfectly medium rare, nice and bloody in the middle, for my main.  I ate it all, too.  Oh, and chocolate mousse, homemade chocolate icecream and a toffee pistachio praline for pudding.  With plenty of NZ vino and bubblies in between. Then mum's decadent wedding chocolate cake for supper. 

Over the past 14 years or so, weddings have been the main way I meet up with extended family as we all live so far apart.  This may have been the last wedding from all the cousins - there have been 13 and I managed to attended 11 of them.  I hope we can still find excuses to reconnect.

entree - hors dourves in New Zealand
scotch fillet - ribeye steak

Do ya like it?

Many expats have their funny things they obstinately save for home.  Doctors' appointments, children's schooling, golden syrup, marmite.  For me, it's all of those things, but more peculiarly, it's my hairdresser.  So far I have refused to look for another one anywhere else. The first cut she gave me was just before our wedding.  It was a special cut so I had streaks put in and she straightened it. When I went to school the next day, everybody EVERYBODY commented on my amazing haircut.  The children told me I looked like a princess.  Jbird insisted on documenting it in photos.  She thinned it out and it was easy to manage for months and months.

You see, I have curly hair.  People don't know what to do with curly hair.  Baltimore was full of curly hair, but it was the kind of curls found on African-Americans.  They're a whole different kettle of fish, requiring straightening, wigs, and extensions.  It  took me 28 years to know what to do with my curly hair, and it was she that taught me.  Why would I go to anyone else?  For the first time in my life, I'm venturing out without hating it unless it's tied back.  This is a break through!

She has her salon in the Waitakere ranges, surrounded by beautiful New Zealand bush (you. really. must. visit. this. place).  She has done my hair since my wedding and knows all about Jbird and I, over there.  I go to her once a year, when we are home for the 'summer'.  I broke this fast yesterday, as it had only been four months since my last cut by her.  She knows I won't let anyone else cut it, obliterates my split ends, and admires how long it is getting - as a hairdresser, she finds it very hard to grow her own hair. 

When I went yesterday, she gave me a cutting from her jade tree, known as a 'money plant'.  I will plant this in my kitchen in Bloomington and think of her and the fabulous hair cuts.  We won't be back next summer, I think it might be  time to move on.  For the time being.

Social Situations

I want to revisit the idea of social anxiety. I have to start with an apology - I don't have a very clear head as I've recently come back from a hens type meal.  My sister - not the one to-be-wed, the other, bought a bottle of wine to share with me, hence the foggy head.  However, the time to write is now as tomorrow will be wedding wedding wedding.

Earlier in the day, at the afternoon tea part of the hens events, I was almost in tears, I didn't want to go.  I was completely overwhelmed by too many new people, and trying to feel comfortable in a situation where I didn't.  The sister - older than me and oh so much more mature - very kindly went out of her way to persuade me.  Soon after this was a rowing-on-a-lake part of the events where myself, this sister and my mother shared a boat together.  It was a perfect time of the day, beautiful light, and we were surrounded by gorgeous New Zealand native bush.  I was able to relax and we had some nice conversation.  This helped me to forget my discomfit and I then attended the evening meal almost organically.  The dinner was fun, we sat with some fun people, though my angus beef burger was a little well done.  It was funny that my entire table of six ordered the same though we didn't discuss it.

I think we all ALL suffer from social anxiety at different times.  It can't just be me - though I feel like I suffer more than most.  I'm sure others feel the same way.  Remember my original post?  I blamed living in America (click here to read).  

When I review today's anxiety, I was at my worst shortly after I'd had space to think.  Too much space.  When things were busy, I felt better and forgot my worries.  If you have been able to follow and agree with my thread of thoughts directly related to creativity coming from space and time, you might feel as bewildered as I by the idea that negativity that can also flourish in that same space.  Depending on your frame of mind and how you let things flow.  

My little sister's getting married tomorrow.  Where did the time go!?

In the folds of family

We have started the four day wedding weekend.  I drove down to Taranaki/New Plymouth today, sitting between HarryBarry and I'm-not-madsta-I'm-Mad-e-LINE.  Two Stakkas in the front seats. The scenery was superb.  Dense green New Zealand bush, full of pungas and palms.  Ocean views, white cliffs. Sheep, cattle, goats and alpacas.  The kids played I-spy-with-my-little-eye-something-purple, doctors, and cameramen.  They were gorgeous.  Lunch in a cafe on the way down was delicious.

There will be dinners, afternoon teas, nail painting, make-up and hair.  Car cleaning, house cleaning, place name marking.  We have plenty of black shoes to choose from and my relocated dress is safe and sound on a hanger.  THE dress has been revealed, I can't wait to see it on the bride-to-be.  Dad's picking Andy up from the airport and they'll bring down those votive candles I brought all the way from Indiana.  There will be high tension and drama, what would a wedding be without it? 

I'm glad.