The last week before I head away… I have shopped to within an inch of my life and happily have clothes suitable for a summer holiday!! All I need now is shoes… Miss Lisa… are you available to consult??? (Just don’t make me swing past Hammer Hardware on the way…)
I have a confession to make…
I haven’t really been blogging much…
What? You’d noticed? Awww that’s so sweet!!! Thanks!
Unfortunately I seem to have hit that zone that I promised I’d never get into… That place where, when there is a man on the scene, you disappear entirely into this frenzy of romantic interludes and secret trysts…
*grin* I haven’t had time to blog because I’ve been too busy writing long emails and chatting on messenger with Mr Africa. (Take that Red!… committment phobic my Hass…).
The dialogue is still sparkling, more so even than it was initially. The chemistry is hotting up, though I know full well that is capable of evaporating in real time and in the flesh (thinking back to YGM2) and the honesty quotient about our lives, where we are at, and where we want to be in the future is very high.
Truth is, I am loving it, and while I mock Red, she really was onto something and having confessed to being a commitment phobe, working through the associated issues in with someone who is at a reasonably safe distance is good…
… Really Good.
The Simpson Desert
Today Singular Scene is taking a short foray into food blogging… not to be compared of course to Clothilde’s gorgeous site Chocolate and Zucchini but to celebrate the leftovers I am having for lunch, made by my own fair hands… and wickedly good.
Simpson Desert Pizza
Ingredients
Garlic and herb seasoned pizza base (or toally plain would work fine too)
Butter Chicken (makhani) Curry Paste (Not simmer sauce… the curry paste – tandoori paste works well too)
One whole onion
Boneless Chicken pieces (2 single breast fillets or 4 thighs – depends on how much pizza base you have to cover)
Grape or cherry tomatoes, halved
Grated Mozzarella
Natural Yoghurt
Fresh Coriander leaves (cilantro)
Ok, clearly at this point you can see that cooking isn’t a precise science in deeleea’s world… no measurements or volumes… sorry… It’ all just depends on the pizza base… smaller base… less topping…
The Method goes something like this
Slice and fry the onions… use low heat so they caramelise rather than burn…
Cook the chicken (if it is still raw) until it is about 75-80% done.
Spread the base with the curry paste.
Layer over that the onions,chicken and tomatoes and sprinkle lightly (very light…) with the mozzarella.
Cook in a medium-hot oven until the cheese is melted and the base is cooked and a bit crispy on the bottom. (about 20 mins at 180degC)
Serve dotted with yoghurt and fresh coriander.
Serve hot or cold!!
BTW the Simpson Desert is somewhere in Australia and the pizza is called that because I first ate it at a gourmet Pizza restaurant and it’s the name they referred to it by.
(Mine tastes better *grin*)
Rehab
“They say that when the going gets tough the tough get going”
Not me.
When the going gets tough I withdraw, climb into my metaphorical pyjamas and shut the bedroom door. It may not look like this is what I have done. On the outside I’m all business… work like mad… produce, produce, produce, but inside I’m at home in my pink fluffy slippers with my teddy bear, surrounded by chocolate wrappers and diet coke.
The going has been tough for a while now and I am increasingly aware that to survive I have slowly built up a resistance to this life of faith, to this God I chose.
In actual fact, if I think about it, you can see the signs on the outside, in spite of the working like mad and never stopping the iPod never leaves my side – (my perfect barrier…) Then there’s the point when I stopped caring about how others see me… stopped caring about applying make up before work, about buying clothes, stopped caring about getting some kind of exercise, stopped caring that a day doesn’t go by without chocolate.
It’s the perfect indicator that I figure I look like sh*t so why should I bother trying to dress it up as anything else.
So tonight I’m thankful to God for Ron and Jeff and the fact that the 3 of us can get together and get real with it. Thankful that they don’t judge me and my failings, and in fact pray for me there and then and help me talk through the rubbish. Man, sometimes those girls make me feel like I’ve been a Christian for a week instead of 15 years or more.
It’s days like today that I remember that the year from hell took its toll on me more than I thought, and is taking its toll still.
It’s days like today that Jeff and Ron remind me that it’s like I’m actually just out of surgery and am going through rehab, and rehab hurts like hell.
But rehab ends in strength … in healing.
And that has to be good.
I just wish it hurt less sometimes and that the results were easier to see.
Breakfast for Three
I am taking a break from the regularly scheduled countdown pix to show off my neighbours… These little parrots are called Rainbow Lorikeets and are in the habit of visiting me in the morning for a saucer of sugar/honey water.
Lorikeets are pattern feeders so they have a circuit of places they eat, all seasonal of course, as not all the native nectar flowers they feed from are in season all year round… But sugar or honey are always on the menu here. So they call in every morning… and sometimes in the afternoon as well!! Cheeky buggers.
I am a little afraid of becoming the crazy birdlady of Manly … they are so fearless now that he (at least I think it’s a he – he’s certainly more forward than his mate) will land on the door handle (pictured) and wait for me to get my act together. Once I have been thoroughly chastised into moving my butt from the sofa and into the kitchen to prepare their breakfast and I go out onto the balcony they will happily land on my hand to drink straight out of the glass…. Like I said, cheeky…
It’s a cool party trick when I have NZ guests staying so I am hoping they are going to be around when Mum comes to stay at Christmas time. She will LOVE them and I am already having visions of having to pose every
morning for a picture with the neighbours…
And, even though I could be called the crazy birdlady of Manly if I keep it up, there’s a part of me that loves the bright and glowing colours of the Aussie birds, raucous though they may be… they are a whole different kettle of fish to the shy and retiring Fantails or Tuis of home.