my angel

Thank heavens for little boys!

Preface: This is to remind me of what it important in life and to capture the positive moments that arise out of the grim. And lest you think Tigs is perfection personified, he was positively grim at times today! Okay, now you may go on and read ...

I had a catastrophe yesterday. Tigs had set up a tea party for the two of us using my 'special' tea-for-two set from my Montessori teaching box. A tiny plate held two plain biscuits. Two thimble-sized vases held lavender and basil flowers. A delicate creamer was filled with cool, sweet, orange squash. Each cup and saucer was set upon a double layer of minute, flannelette dusting cloths and marked with a handmade place card - he really is his mother's son!

I mentioned that we really needed three settings as Auntie Flossy was coming over she wasn't working due to Australia Day. "Great", he said, "Do you have another tiny cup and saucer?" .
"Why, yes I do my love," I beamed, "I'll just reach to the highest shelf in the kitchen, on my tippy-tippytoes and wiggle my beloved lemon-with-gilt-lining-Carlton Ware-demitasse-and-saucer over the edge, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH".

Smashed. To smithereens. First on my head and then all over the bench and floor. Completely, totally and utterly disintegrated...

NO!

I'm not sure why (hormones?), but I stood there and stared at Tigs with horror and became suddenly engulfed in misery. I put my head in my hands and wept. Tigs silently moved over to me and put his arms around me. "Don't cry," he said, "It was just an accident Mummy, you didn't mean it". I wept a little more loudly. Grateful that he understood and cared. I am well aware that I could have gone to my grave with nobody knowing how much I adored that little cup and saucer, and the precious Beswick Ware dish that met its demise simultaneously. That's often the way with little, treasures they matter so much more to their custodian than most people would ever know.

So how on earth do you think I clambered out of this tragedy? I remained paralysed and wailing (what a combination!) for some time before becoming increasingly aware of how ridiculous it was to sob over a little thing like this and more importantly to dump it on a six year old! I just couldn't seem to pull it together until Tigs stated, calmly, clearly and quite assertively, actually, "Think of the bright side Mummy." "What's that Darling?", I snivelled. "You could be dead and think how sad I'd be then!" God, I love him more than words can say. That's often the way with little, treasures they matter so much more to their custodian than most people would ever know.

lads!

Tigs has had a ball, this long summer, playing with his buddy who lives a long way away. He managed his first sleepover proper sleep over too. He didn't quite manage the second one though and was very kindly reunited with his Mummy and Daddy at 1am! Poor Lisa sweetly drove him home from the other side of town. Nevertheless both boys have a wonderful time when they are together. Never does a cross word passes their lips. Such good friends.

It astonishes me that in spite of the fact that Tigs doesn't have a gun he seems to know exactly what to do with it! Uggh! In fact he's shown me before that he doesn't need a real gun because he has one on the end of his hand - pshew pshew - index finger and thumb aimed at me!

I have been searching for some aviator sunnies for Tigs for ages and finally found some for him. Much cooler than his little boy, red, plastic jobbies and probably better for him than the scratched up lenses he had. Don't you think he looks great? Not many boys can get away with orange knickerbockers and look this good either, hey?

BTW this is the first post that reflects activities that have occurred this new year! I finally feel that I've caught up :)

E x

festive fancies

Oh, these are so yummy and super simple. Years ago I was given (by my Mummy) a beautiful Tasmanian Huon Pine pasty presser thingie (don't google it you'll come up against a brick wall). I don't know if it has a proper name (I do now it's called a tart tamper - which sounds and looks borderline rude).  I have a mini-muffin-tray-tart-tamper, say that three times!

The recipe is super easy, deliciously tasty and incredibly moreish.

Making the pastry:
125g butter (room temperature)
1/2 cup icing sugar
1 cup flour

Place ingredients in a food processor and run until the pastry clumps together in a ball.
Divide into balls (small hi-bounce ball size) for each mini muffin tin.
Press with tamper - flour between pressing.
Refrigerate for at least 20 minutes (I didn't and they worked fine - they just cooked faster).
Place your choice of filling (I made traditional mince pies and  have half a jar left. I could very easily be tempted to make another batch!) in chilled pastry cases and bake 12-20 minutes (according to oven) at 180C (170C fan forced).
Allow to cool in pan then ease out - either by inverting muffin tin and pressing bottom of each tart or by easing edge with a knife.  Oh they're so good. 

Fillings
The choices are endless really but these sound great too:
Mixed nut pies
Chop 3/4 cup mixed nuts and divide equally between cases
Melt 60g butter and add 1 cup brown sugar, 1 egg and 1 tsp vanilla essence.
Mix until smooth and gluey.
Spoon over the nuts and bake as above.

christmas 2010

We were woken desperately early by Tigs who appeared to be on Chrissy-Crack!  His excitement and delight was just too infectious to force him back to bed until a reasonable hour, so up we got and stared on giddily as he spun like a top around the house searching for, and finding, evidence left behind by Father Christmas.  We had had to be fairly creative as the 'seccret' has been questioned.  In classically sweet Tiggy-style he stated that he knew that Father Christmas wasn't real.  He assured me that it was true and that he knew it was us who bought the presents and added in hushed tones "Poor Mummy and Daddy having to by all those presents" - ugh he melts me.  I didn't respond, I think I was unable to inhale, for fear of either lying to him, or feeding the lie.  I'm not sure if I'm proud of myself then for out-foxing him or ashamed for not being completely honest with him.  He's only six...  Anyway he was satisfied and reassured by the note Santa left, the dirt from his boots on the windowsill and a couple of his beard hairs caught there too.  And if there was any remaining doubt in his innocent mind, well the mess the reindeers had made on the front garden cleared them up!  

Having had hours and hours of brilliant help  from Flossy and my step-mother "Granny Alice" with all the food prep on Christmas Eve I was free to go to church in the morning, which was Heavenly, followed by the equally stellar bringing together of family to share in a very traditional English Christmas feast.

The kitchen team, Flossy, Me & Alice.

All the important people around one table and a rare shot of my bro Georgie, who spent a disproportionate amount of time concealed behind his laptop, headphones on, oblivious to the goings on around him.  A scary insight into what lies ahead for us when Tigs is a teenager.  Woo, slept right through the whole of lunch .  Such a pity, but, I add guiltily, it was quite peaceful ...

Greg - bad shot - oops.

Momo

Booboo

Dziadziu & Babcia

I could hardly hold Tigs back a minute longer and as soon as Woo was up it was under the tree and into the presents.  I think the children were suitably provided for (oh my gosh were they lucky) and I too was spoiled with some lovely presents.  But nothing quite tops my most precious and treasured gifts, Tigs & Woo.  I hope you had a lovely Christmas too.

Back soon,

E x

merricks - beware - lots of photos

I'm popping back to 2010 for a few posts to catch up with our end of year.  I was rather caught off guard by the end of year activities and excitement and in an all time first I didn't send out my Christmas cards.  Oops!  Oh well I now seem to subscribe to the New Year card brigade and may get around to them yet.  I did  have the perfect opportunity to take them to Merricks but, oops, I forgot to take them down.  It's a shame really as I was extremely pleased with them.  I will post one here if, and only if, I actually get them done and in the post box!

So, back to the post.  Ah, Merricks, such a happy place.  This is how I remember large chunks of my own childhood, wandering through scrub, bush and farmland, riding, relaxing, refueling. Now my babies are being afforded the same happy childhood thanks to our supremely generous friend, Tim,  who handed over his retreat holiday house haven  patch of paradise for a few days before Christmas.  Old friends of Tiggy and Twinkle may remember that last time we came here I couldn't bring myself to leave and so we stayed on.  I felt the same way this time and although we couldn't linger longer I can't wait to go back again.

There was time for cuddling "Granny Alice" (She loathes her title - but hey ho).

Magic moments with my beautiful babies.

Fun times,  how groovy to be able to go into your own paddock to chop down a Christmas tree.

I love the mirrored pose here - "Now how do we get this monster back to the house?".

Ah, you need another adult, to lug it from the very bottom of the paddock to the house.

It was tall and gracious and round as a pudding in the middle - the tree, and oh, well, probably me too!

Star

Something 'carative' Tigs whipped up with a bit of bark and sea sponge.

There were morning kisses ...

...and precious pearls that fell for the first time.

Relationships to rekindle with dear Foury, the overgrown puppy.

Teeny Woo on board ...

... and old, old, oh, how old Sally lugging two around.  Thank goodness they're both featherweights!

There were yummy choc-tops at the Flinders Pub.

And many morning 'cino's' at the Merrick's General Store.

A lazy hazy, dolphin spotting, afternoon at Point Leo. On a rare warm and sunny day.

Moments stolen with my 'baby' brother.

And glimpses of the festivities to come.