How men shop

Dave has taken over the grocery shopping, even though he loathes the experience, in order to give me more time for writing up my thesis. Lately he's come up with a killer, although very male way of writing up the grocery list.

During the week we write on a white board in the kitchen whenever we start to run out of anything. Then, on the day that he does the grocery shopping, he takes a photo of the list with his digital camera, downloads it to his computer, and prints it.

I guess it beats getting a pencil and paper out.

A few of the items of the list might need a little explanation. Vegemite is of course the iconic, yeast spread that makes Aussies grow big and tall. It must work because the two oldest kids are near 6 feet tall, and one is a girl.

No, I don't eat it. Eww. And apparently President Obama wasn't too impressed when the Australian Prime Minister Julia Gillard brought him some.

Plain flour is regular flour with nothing added to it. You need to say "plain" because it commonly packaged as self-rising flour, which has baking powder and salt added to it. I guess you need that when you don't have Bisquick.

With 4 kids and everyone drinking coffee and tea with milk, we use a lot of it, so powdered milk is a good thing to keep on hand. Long-life milk is another thing all-together. It is milk that has been  treated so that it can keep unrefrigerated for 6 months. Once its opened I think it has to be used a quickly as regular milk. You can get this sort of milk in Europe as well, but I don't remember seeing it in America.

I had to google to find out what they actually do to it, because I had some suspicion that they radiated it. But, no it's just heated to 285 degrees for two seconds, which kills more of the bacteria than normal pasteurization. Who knew!

Who's Florinda?

Yesterday I overheard the following conversation between one of the kids and Dave:

          Chloe: Dad, where's Florinda?

          Dave: She's out in the car. 

If you didn't know the somewhat strange history of this name, you might wonder why someone was out in car, by their-self.

The truth is, Florinda is a GPS. And she has a long and checkered history in our family.

The story starts back with my grandfather, long before the invention of GPS-es. Before ATMs were around, people actually had to go into the bank to deposit or withdraw money. So, each week Grandpa would drive to town and talk to a real woman at the bank who would give him the money. Each time he'd come back home, and tease Grandma about the cute little red-head down at the bank who was always so happy to see him. It drove Grandma nuts.

Fast forward to Dave and I, 50 years later. I told Dave this story, and so whenever he would go out of town he'd make jokes about seeing his "girlfriend". Eventually I came up with the name of Florinda for Dave's secret moll. The kids thought it was hysterical, and played along. A couple of years ago one of Dave's mates got a GPS for his truck, and Dave decided he needed one as well. Part of the service provided by the GPS is a voice that tells you where to turn. So of course Dave picked the female voice rather than the male.

And since it had a female voice, Dave decided to name it Florinda. The kids shortened it to Florrie, and she became a member of the family, so to speak.

The Easter bunny cometh

We had a visitor last night who left footy prints all over the house. Apparently he bounced in through an open window and left bags of goodies for everyone. 

I think someone had a word with the Easter Bunny, because instead of a chocolate bunny each easter basket had a Toblerone bar. Coincidentally, one of my favourites.

Get this thing off me, I look ridiculous!

Even Izzie got decorated, although he wasn't exactly thrilled with  the idea. After all, sausage dogs have to look after their dignity.

Every year, the kids and I color Easter eggs. It's a bit more challenging in Australia because the eggs are sort of brown colored already. 

The finished product

Trina's graduation

Go the girls!

A friend of mine graduated today with the same degree that I'm hoping to obtain next year.

Also, during the graduation we had a 5.3 earthquake, thus proving that getting a PhD is an earth-shattering event.

Friday pileup

Today it's a pile of green fabric, but by tomorrow it will be a winter bath robe for Dave. I came up with the idea of making one on the spur of the moment, but now everyone wants one. 

I think I see some sewing lessons in my children's future!

Check back tomorrow for the fashion show.

Izzie says: "Do you see any pins, she always drops pins, owie!"

Simple food

Like all immigrants, I've brought the dishes from my home to my new country. My husband says this recipe is just plain wrong because of mixing meat and brown sugar. But the kids love them.

Cowboy Beans

1-2 lbs hamburger

1 onion chopped

2 cans baked beans

good squirt of bar-b-que sauce (about 2 Tablespoons)

1 cup ketchup

1/2 cup brown sugar

1 teaspoon dry mustard

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2. Brown onions and hamburger. Put aside.

3. Mix the rest of the ingredients in a baking dish, and then add the hamburger & onions.

4. Bake for 30-40 minutes.

*****************

Translation:

Hamburger = beef mince

Ketchup = tomato sauce

350 degrees fahrenheit = 180 degrees celsius

PS - Yes I am aware that the U.S. is the only country other than Liberia that doesn't use metric. Oh and Burma as well. 

Now, in order to give equal airtime, here is something that is TOTALLY wrong, but practically everyone here eats it. 

And if that wasn't enough this next one would take the cake. Or the toast.

Yep, spaghetti from a can on toast

The lemonade brigade

The real stuff

The kids have found a tree in Anderson park absolutely loaded with lemons. They've been picking up the windfall ones on the way home from school and then squeezing them for lemonade.

This drink is not for the timid. These lemons are the real deal, not  the wimpy, watery store bought ones.

My stylin' brother

Eric wearing a cool fedora
(Springfield, Oregon around 1986)

I really wish people would go back to wearing hats, both men and women. There is something classy about a nice hat...and they keep your head warm.

Celebrating a birthday with a zero on the end

One of the best presents, a happy home

Today is Dave's birthday, and we had a family party for him. The kids decorated the house with balloons and baked him a cake. His presents were simple: a fancy razor, instant cappuccino satchets, Cherry Ripes (his favourite candy bar) and a cd with Irish and Scottish music.

So while Donnelly baked a chocolate cake using Chloe's never-fail recipe (out of one of my old cookbooks), the family batted balloons around to Irish jigs.

Gone for a soldier - Part II

Ready for parade

A few weeks ago Donn received his dress blues, but they were about 6 inches too long. He asked me a few days ago to hem them, but I was in the middle of writing a literature review for my thesis. Tonight when I got home from work he asked me again, but I was tired. (I agree, that's a lot of buts).

So, I thought, "How about duct tape?"

Unfortunately it didn't work 

So, out came the sewing machine, and I whipped up a passable hem in his trousers. When Dave complimented me on my work, Donn said "Yeah, it's cause she's American". And then walked off to adjust his hat.

I wonder where he got
that idea from!
(whistles)

Some flowers

Most of the plants in the yard have been flooded with the rains, but the ones
 under the trees are hanging in there. 

Now listen very carefully

Look deeply into my eyes...now go and get me bacon!!!