Mindlessly Vacuuming

We’re lucky to have vacuum cleaner, none of our student friends have one – it’s the last thing you want to buy when you’re in this transient lifestyle.  A ‘grownup’ couple that we got to know in Baltimore gave it to us when we were moving here and every single time I vacuum, I think of them and feel grateful.  

The first year we were here, we bought a dustbuster.  That thing kind of worked but somehow we lost the filter and it was useless without it.  In those days our house was more of a room with a bathroom than a house.  The next year we had wooden floors so we kind of got by with sweeping and mopping.  We were given an ancient hoover.  It didn't have a very strong suck and the rugs we had were like Velcro for my hair.    

I recently discovered which plug I can use so that I never have to change plugs and I can vacuum every corner of our house.  It’s the little things that can make me happy.  

plug (NZ) = outlet (US)

Another new student

I recently started another student.  He has an interesting violin history.  He studied violin with a teacher for a year during high school.  A year or two later he played in an Irish pub where he was performing often without any input, even from the band members.  Their instructions were: just play!  We talked today about how the latter must have been a steeper learning curve for him, as he was forced to perform regularly, thinking ahead as he played, with no rehearsal time.  It was exciting, fun, and scary.  Think of the adrenalin rush! lt would have been far more motivating than practicing for lessons.

In my experience, many adult students are very excited to learn but life often runs its own course.  I am faced with the interesting challenge of gaining his interest, trust, and respect, and therefore maintaining his motivation.  I guess in the long run, it's going to be up to him too.

Good Reads

I have been ensnared by a book:  the Piano Tuner.  It is based in England and colonial Burma (now Mynmar) and I love the aspects of it that cross a little into my life.  

Jbird tunes pianos and I have sat through many tunings and discussed tuning at length with him.  The repetitious movements, and harsh sounds that are so necessary for the desired outcome are described at length within the book.  

I have not been to Myanmar but I have been close.  I once travelled to the southern most point of Bangladesh and saw refugees from that neighbouring country in camps on the riverbed.  The book describes foothills similar to those of the Himalayas in India or Nepal, sticky translucent rice like that in Laos, and that curious reaction from locals to any oddity: the crowds, stares, and cheeky children.  It covers the political state between the colonising British and original cultures which might be compared to many countries around the world.  Gun power was the main feature, while love as a was tactic met by the invaders with unease and disbelief.  The local lengthy festivities described fit with cultures of that part of the world yet are curiously their own.   

I am transported back to those times as well as the times of my own travels as I contemplate the improbability of a piano surviving such high humidity, heat, and isolated travel. 

Fluffy fluffy pancakes

I grew up eating crepes as pancakes, for breakfast, lunch, or dinner.  My favourite topping was ice cream and jam as a dessert.  We only occasionally had what we called 'griddle cakes' as the fluffy pancake Americans know.  We often had the kiwi favourite, pikelets, for afternoon tea which is very similar.  But different.  

I have never kept a standard recipe for fluffy 'American' pancakes.  Every time we want them, I end up looking online for a new recipe.  I find unique flavoured recipes fun but I'm never that interested in revisiting them, maybe because they require special ingredients.  For example, carrot cake pancakes or cranberry ricotta pancakes.  Recently, I came across a great recipe which had very normal ingredients but it also added 1/2 a teaspoon of baking soda.  This made them fluffy fluffy fluffy.  I was nervous that they'd be too salty so I used the sieve for the dry ingredients and they were awesome.  I think I've finally found my go-to recipe. 

Putting in the hard yards

Following that cold snap I complained about earlier in the week, we have had some gorgeous, mild afternoons.  This inspired me to get back in the garden.  If you saw our garden, you'd say to me: "What could you possibly have to do in that?"  At the moment, it's merely a 4m by 3m by 3m triangle of dirt and remember, we're in the middle of a (possibly) snowy winter.  

Unfortunately, the dirt is not in the best of condition.  I keep finding more broken rocks, so I'm trying to remove them all, piece by piece.  There are a few weeds that have also been making the most of this lovely weather which I'm pulling while they're small.  Jbird was given some secateurs for a late birthday present so I pruned a vine that had been a tangled mess by our front door.  Hopefully it will grow back prettier in the spring.  We don't own a spade and it's roots seem to run too low to completely remove.  There's a mysterious orange root I keep hitting.  I don't think it's the poison ivy I know is hiding there somewhere, I wonder what it could be?  I stabbed our compost with the trowel yesterday and it is looking lovely and rotty at the bottom.  I cannot wait to spread it when I plant some seeds.  In the meantime, stay away vermin!  I have only ever seen a few worms, I hope they dug down deep enough to survive the freeze we had.

If you have any ideas of things that would help my garden, please let me know!  I'm hoping that these little bits of work will pay off, come spring.  

The Baconator

When I lived in Bangladesh, a Muslim country, there was only one place to get bacon, known as the German butcher.  He only sold American style bacon.  I didn't eat it often but I always had some frozen in my freezer, just in case.  The smell of it must have permeated my poor non-bacon-eating neighbours when I cooked it.  It has a really strong smell, which is merely delicious if it's an every day food.

I have to say that during those two years, and even for the first 18 months living here, I did not understand American crispy bacon.  I have seen it on cartoons and movies, served as stiff rectangular objects with fried eggs.  I'm sure I've also read about it.  But coming from a country which offers bacon from a different cut of pork, where it's a juicy, thick piece of meat, crispy bacon has been a hard concept to muster meaning for.  For a long time I longed for NZ bacon and would under cook the American stuff.  It would be okay but not ideal when at least 50% is fat.

Slowly, as I've observed true-Americans cooking it and eating with them, I've come to an understanding: make it crispy by cooking until a good puddle of fat remains in the pan.

Life is always good with a little bacon, but it's even better when it's crispy!

A Beautiful Portrayal

We saw a really nice movie the other day.  It's called 50/50 and it's about a young guy's battle with a rare cancer.  The guy is portrayed by the youngest cast member of Third Rock from the Sun, Joseph Gordon Levitt.  As he goes through this life changing crisis, he reaches a point of complete alone-ness.  He comes out of that to see there are people who love him and were simply showing their love in ways that he couldn't always identify with.  I found myself having a little lady crush on the psychologist too - she is so cute and acts her part so awkwardly.  It's perfect.  I don't want to say more than that because I think you should see the movie.

It was such a human and yet beautiful portrayal of love.  I wonder if I am able to find that love in my life, without needing a near death experience.

NB: If you are sensitive to language from today's popular culture, you may be distracted/upset by some content.

Tetchy to get out

Rain and snow has the ability to dictate our movements at the moment, especially as we don't own a car.  Yesterday it unexpectedly snowed.  The weather forecast was unable to predict the amount of snow there would be so I kept thinking it would clear and I'd be able to keep the date I'd made with Soph to go downtown.  It was a really windy day so even though there was snow for most of the day, not much of it piled up. But it was the worst kind of weather to be out in.

This left me feeling very unsettled.  I couldn't make myself sit still for very long and do any of the activities I know I want to do yet feel uninspired by.  By the time evening came I was a crabby goose.  I know I shouldn't be impatient, and instead feel pleased that I don't have to be anywhere.  There's nothing worse than being forced out on a day it's just too cold to be out in.  But this is the nature of my head.

Despite all this, I'm hoping for a big dumping of the stuff, with a beautiful clear day following the dump, making the outside world surreal.  That is my favourite type of snow.

A Desire for Security

When I face a crisis in my life, particularly with close relationships, I often use some kind of personality descriptor to find out why I have been so affected.  I'm not dedicated to doing the tests or remembering much of what I learn but I do find it helpful when getting through the crisis.  After a recent 'crisis', my mother and I were perusing the Enneagram types.  I've never before been able to pinpoint my number, even after taking a test, but my mother pointed out she thought I was a six, which I found I was able to relate to a lot.  

Number sixes, in particular, desire strong boundaries and organisation, within which we find a sense of security.  I'm probably more flexible than I used to be but if boundaries are continually broken, I begin to find it difficult to operate happily and comfortably.  It was nice to know this, as Jbird and I tidied up a certain aspect of our relationship.  In the tidying, I felt in control again and my sense of self worth grew.

I'm no self-help writer.  Just interested.  I'm also glad that we're all different yet are still able to function together.

A Wintry New Year's Day

Jbird and I worked hard on New Year's Eve.  We taught and then babysat five little ones.  It's a reminder of how different life is here.  At home, as teachers, we'd be at the beach on our Summer Holiday.  Work would not be on our agenda for either the 31st or the 1st. I don't have many opportunities to work here, so when I do, it is a privilege.   Even better: to be able to work with my husband.  We finished at 9pm and we had a party afterwards, with Soph.  It was a blast.  I didn't regret our decision to work on a day that might normally feel like a holiday.

I'm not good at making and keeping New Year's resolutions.  This year, I have only one but it hits all facets of my life.  It is to remain focused on the important things.  That may sound vague to you, but my life isn't too complicated so they're easy for me to see.  They are: my role as a wife, sister, daughter, friend, and teacher; being good with our budget; my study; church; and building new friendships.  Crafts, this blog, music, and making food, are incidental, lovely parts of my life, but they're not too important.  Sounds simple, huh?  I have a sense of excitement about this coming year.

Happy New Year!