Showing posts from February, 2012


I keep waiting for some body - any body - to come out of the dark recesses of what is known on our house plan as Bedrooms 2 & 3 and look for food. I keep expecting to see a pantry or fridge door open and hear someone ask, "What's to eat?"

This despite there being hardly any food in the house - even though Sons#3, #4 and #5 have all left home.

However, when they do come back, I already have some willing cooks to help me cook up a storm.

(Making Pita Bread. This recipe is fantastic for anyone wanting fresh pita bread any time of the day or night as the dough is kept in the fridge and you just break off what you need. And there's no kneading either. How easy is that!)

(Rosemary Flatbread. Recipe from here. Believe me this is worth trying. It has a buttery taste despite the fat in the recipe coming entirely from olive oil. For Australian readers, this crispbread tastes very much like the SAO biscuit.)

Mixed Bag

It's been a day of mixed actions and mixed emotions as we have gone from work (DH) to dropping off Son#4 to watching Son#2 finish a race to shopping to back to Son#4's flat to repair the lock on his door that was broken during a recent burglary (we estimate that the burglars made off with a grand total of $20!) to home where Son#1 and his family were waiting to read bedtime stories to taking a few minutes out to sit down at the computer.

I have moved between pride and laughter and tears and exhaustion and feeling like an unnecessary accessory. A brief visit with Son#5 was greeted with neither surprise or joy. I guess it's only been a few days but surely he could have missed us a little bit more. I've certainly missed him. Still, that's too be expected and probably very normal.

(Son#4 will be regretting now that we didn't have the time to take a family photo as we did with his brothers. At the time he didn't seem to mind but once he sees these candid photos he…

Vice Presidency

When mothers talk about the depression of the empty nest, they're not mourning the passing of all those wet towels on the floor, or the music that numbs your teeth, or even the bottle of capless shampoo dribbling down the shower drain. They're upset because they've gone from supervisor of a child's life to a spectator. It's like being the vice president of the United States.

Erma Bombeck

What We Need ...

is a bigger dining table. A much bigger table. And one that is wider too so that courting couples can't hold hands across the table - or so there is at least room for various dishes without them competing for space with the plates and glasses.

This was brought home to us just this past weekend when we celebrated DH's mother's birthday. The Most Adorable Granddaughters were not impressed when they were placed at a smaller - and lower - table off to the side because there was no room for them at the inn (I mean, table). Of course this darling ...

and this darling ...

are still small enough to fit on someone's lap. And this darling ...

obviously felt no need to sit down to eat. But finding a large extension table is becoming a priority if we want to preserve family harmony.

We've been regularly searching online but to no avail. The one table that was long enough was too wide and all the others are only as long as the table we have now. I suspect DH is going to have to make…


It's not easy coming to terms with the fact that your life is about to change and while not necessarily for the worse it won't be for the better either. It will be different: a brand of different that I'm not entirely comfortable with and yet it's no different than what thousands of women have had to embrace before me.

Yet I feel that I'm no longer useful ... no longer needed. I try to tell myself that God has a plan for this stage of my life that is just as crucial as the plan for the last stage ... but I'm struggling to see how or what that can be.

Yes, my youngest has left home. After weeks (months?) of asking him what he needed to prepare himself for a life away from home, we still had to make a dash to the shops to pick up last minute items. It gave me something to do - which was probably a good thing.

Plans of a last dinner together as a family came to nought when DH rang to say he'd been held up. I know there was nothing he could do about it and perhaps…

What Not To Say

This past week I read an article on what never to say to someone who has cut their hair short. (Read it here if you're interested.) The surprising thing to me, as a long-hair, is that those who go short are often subjected to the same brand of comments as those of us with long hair.

I thought I'd come up with my own list of things that should never be said to someone with long hair. This is meant to be fun and not intended to cause offense. I just think sometimes it can be helpful to realise that we can all be on the receiving end of thoughtless or insensitive comments regardless of what others perceive as our personal 'flaw' and that by seeing the other side of things we might just learn what not to say in conversation (the article was an eye-opener for me).

My List of Twelve Things Never to Say to Someone with Long Hair

1. You'd look really good with short hair.
Of course, this implies that I don't look good now. It could be the honest truth, but it's hurtf…

Home Again

It's been a busy weekend. In fact, it's been a busy week. And an emotionally draining one. It began, as I've already mentioned, with taking Son#3 back to Uni - a move I wasn't ready for and will probably never be ready for - especially when Son#4 and Son#5 go in the near future.

Thursday DH left early to go to a two-day conference out of town - something else I wasn't exactly thrilled about even though I knew he needed to attend. A short time later I received word that my aunt had passed away. It was, for me at least, unexpected, and I took it hard. Harder too because even though I know she had opportunity to receive Christ, I don't know that she ever did.

That same day, I went to see DH's brother and family off at the airport. They return to China for another year. Already hurting from one loss, I perhaps felt this more than on previous occasions.

Friday, DH returned home and after quickly throwing some more clothes into his bag, we headed off to attend a co…

The Exodus Begins

Today Son#3 returned to Uni. I'm trying not to focus on the fact that this is the beginning of The Exodus from our home. Saying goodbye to one was bad enough. What will it be like when the other two go?

I tend to show my concern by fussing. Have you got enough clothes? Do you need a jacket? Have you got money for food? etc, etc.

Since Son#3 was going to be the first returning to his flat (apartment) and since any income he is likely to receive won't start for another two weeks, we spent this morning cooking. My big new stove really came into its own today! In just a few hours it had turned out Roast Apricot Chicken, two Self-Crusting Quiches, and two Plum Pies.

At least I won't have to worry about him starving over the next few days.

I'm going to miss him though. Very muchly.


Recently I mentioned a toy that I'd sewn for The Most Adorable Granddaughter in the World#3 but which I didn't post a picture of since I didn't want anyone seeing it before she did. Well ... now I can post a picture and for anyone who was really hanging out to see it, you'll be wondering now what all the fuss was about.

It's simply a cover for a balloon with ribbons that little hands can grasp. I was rather lazy when drafting the pattern and didn't use any mathematical calculations which explains why after several attempts I still haven't managed to produce a perfect example. Perhaps next time, I might get out the ol' brain and pencil and paper and work it out properly.

Still, it doesn't stop The Most Adorable Granddaughter#4 from playing with an older and even less-perfect version.

I also have another promise to fulfil and that is the recipe for this yummy self-crusting quiche. I typed up the recipe this morning for Son#4 who is adding to his repertoi…