Muffins blue

Is there anything that baking can't fix?

Well, of course there is, but baking does go a long way towards warming your soul about a boatload of disappointment.

Much to the chagrin of friends and family, I rarely follow a recipe accurately. That... for me... is what is so great about the act of baking - the soul rather than the art. Or perhaps that is the art of it?

Anyway... tonight, after a long long day, I needed to bake. When I need to bake, but am tired, or grumpy, or scared, or just plain blue, my favourite recipes are muesli muffins, or Nigella's amazing banana bread - which I've shared with you here.

The muesli muffin recipe called for an egg, tonight I used yoghurt and oil instead. I also used frozen berries instead of apple and carrot. A combo of rye, tapioca, coconut and rice flours were used instead of plain flour. Chocolate chips instead of crushed nuts.

I feel a 50% improvement in mood and they were the best tasting rye/tapioca/coconut/rice flour berry choc muffins ever.

Sunday evening

What is there to do on a sunny, Sunday afternoon in March, in these watery parts?

Well, you could pile your loved ones into a boat. Then you could point the bow of said boat to the south east. Enjoy the sun and the wind on your face. Smile into that wind and stretch your soul as far as you can.

Find yourself a nice mariner, with a lovely owner, who doesn't mind you tying your little boat up to the back of multi-million dollar monstrosity, while you go and frolick with friends at a nearby pub. On this occassion, we even went so far as to buy the boiykaloiks a jug of lemonade. We really were letting our hair down.

And there we stayed, with friends and laughter and drinks and food, for several hours. By the time the sun had set, our spirits had been cleansed and tickled and inspired, and reminded that we are fortunate, and well, and happy, and free. We left at dusk.

Some of us were lulled to sleep by the slapping of water on the bottom of a boat, cruising it's way back to it's island.

"You should be more concerned at inspecting who you eat and drink with, than what you eat and drink".

- Epicurus

trit-trotting in the streets of London

It was a Wednesday and I was sitting on a train in London, just 2 weeks ago. I was just a little bit excited. It was pretty bloody chilly, and grey... well that kind of whitish-grey tinge that the sky over London is often washed with.

The woman beside me was listening to Gotye Somebody that I used to know on her iPhone. As we pulled into Charing Cross, The Smiths came onto my iPod shuffle* and made my day complete. Indeed Morissey, some girls are bigger than others.

The whole week was one big, delicious treat.

It was Gran's 90th birthday. Another train ride, another hour with my ipod (this just doesn't usually happen in my "normal" life!) This time I listened to the Wailin' Jennys, while I was marveling and pondering the connection offered to us by technology.

Through the colourful wide world of blogs, which I first discovered about 4 years ago, I have discovered a world of, specifically, north American women, who share many of my interests. The way they dress, the things they aspire to, the way they live, the music they hear... I feel as though I know them. And would like to know and learn more from them still. There seems to be a strong and vibrant secret women's business movement over there. It feels mature and strong, but still feminine, without losing softness and sensuality. That's not to say its not in other regions... North-West across the Pacific just happens to be the direction drawing my attention right now.

And without technology, which I truly don't pretend to understand, how would I have found that particular river of life? I'd be missing a whole chunk of inspiration and education, and a healthy dose of escapism to boot.

I remember seeing pictures of Swiss chalets when I was twelve, and having a deep knowing that I needed to go find me one of those! I still haven't been to a Swiss chalet, per se, but it's the yearning to get out there and find something that was important to me. I've always believed that any part of the world could be in my reach, but I'm still celebrating how connected we can feel.

*no I am not sponsored by Apple. But Apple, if you're listening, I'd be happy to be. The Zimbabwean would be even happier.

there's that Cloth House, Soho again. What more can I say? Ahhhhhhhhh.

Camden Stable Market

Isn't this amazing? Staircase III, Do Ho Suh, 2009. Polyester & stainless steel tubes. At the Tate Modern Gallery.

Josie, Norman's beloved, loved friend of Ina & Chick. I call her Gran and I love her dearly (and I thank her 4 biological grandchildren, for sharing her with me).

During 36 hours in Hong Kong,

I saw...
:: a public school in a high-rise building
:: a children's playground, unfenced, literally right next to a four lane intersection of city traffic
:: a hundred pink flamingos: flapping, bathing, socializing
:: at least 50 traditional chinese medicine stores
:: two people from my home town, who have known me since my birth (!)
:: a woman light a small fire on a city footpath at 5.30am, and pray in direction of said fire.

I sat on a bus, in the dark, very early, hours of the morning, and listened to my ipod, as I watched the city.

Music is such a potent tonic to me. When I hear Morrissey, I immediately think of Mick (he who rhymes with Punchenello). And when I hear Bob Marley, I always think of Jerry (he who knows how to fish). They are just two things, two faces, that music brings to me.

What does music bring to you?

there you are

I know it's been ages since I've been here. You know, pressing things to do.

Firstly, there was the book I had to finish reading: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer. I finished it at 6.30am this morning. That book was a Delight, with a capital D. If you haven't read it, do. It is beautifully written and thoroughly engaging. What a shame it's the only book written before Mary Ann Shaffer died.

Secondly, there was that little trip to London. Another delight. Early on, I felt a tiny bit guilty for scoring a ticket to London. You see, my mother really wanted to go but my father didn't - he doesn't dig cold weather and has never, in his life, sought out a cold wintry place. Then along I came, and I was given his ticket. When, at Sydney airport on the day of our departure, he asked what I planned to do in London for a week, I pulled out a tube map and rabbited on for at least 20 minutes. I think that's when he began to regret his decision. I do believe he's now learned that if you stay home, you miss out!

Thirdly, I've needed some time to reconnect with my children, husband and normal life.

And lastly, off I trot for my first Philosophy lecture at uni today (! Can you imagine me skipping?!).

I'll leave you today with just one little photo, until next time. This is me, discovering a little piece of heaven - the Cloth House in Soho, London. I seriously had to fan myself and take a moment to breathe. They don't sell online. Just go there, if you can.