Figs..and a little bit of Italy in Oz

On Australia Day this year (I posted about what it means to me here), we went out to different family events in the Bay. We spent a few hours in the sun trying to find somewhere where the Tornado and a little friend could have fun and we would not all end up with a melted brain.

It was hot though even at the fabulous shadowy playground at Wellington Point, so when finally we had enough of the heat and the crowd, and I had dropped off our friends, I sat with a buzzing head in the car driving back. Tornado said – remarkably – “we go home and we have quiet games now, ok Mami?” Oh, yes buddy, we will.

Then I passed by a handwritten sign on a fence where someone was selling the produce of their garden to people via their driveway. “FIGS NOW OPEN”
Hmmm, I thought. Fresh figs! I turned around and parked the car.
As I only have discovered fresh figs (as opposed to dry ones, or sugar soaked ones) in my 20s (moving south in Europe), I still consider them somewhat a special treat. I don’t need to say what an incredibly healthy treat figs are.

So I rang the old and battered hand bell that was attached to a table with a string. After what seemed an eternity – I was really about to go – a man who was easily in his late 70s if not more, came to the door. He was carrying little cardboard crates of figs by the dozen. And a big smile. The figs  looked gorgeous!

After a few words, I kind of already knew but I wanted confirmation : the old man’s Italian accent was so thick he could have been off the boat yesterday. Out of curiosity, I asked him how long he was living in Australia for.
He told me to take a guess.

Now I have met Italian and Greek immigrants of this generation in Australia before so I dared a cheeky “40 years!” and that made him laugh.
“55! ” he said. I told him where I was from. And : “About 4 years here now.”

He smiled and nodded.  “Issa grat-uh plaice, heh? Australee-ya!”

You’re sayin’ it, mate.  Great for all of the above and so many reasons more.
Ps: Figs tasted awesome!

Link: more about the common fig, on wiki HERE

The ‘School Run’– told in 140 letters

I used to walk to school. After a family ceremony on the first day, my big brother and me walked together, crossing that zebra crossing like little champs and arriving after 10 min at the primary school in our neighbourhood. Later I walked alone or met up with friends. At 10, I went to high school on my bicycle. For 9 years, rain or shine. Even in the snow. Yeah, I’m not that old, but those were different times in a different world.

So the whole ‘school run’ business is completely new to me.
Here’s how I went during our first week at Prep, in the form of SMS that I  have actually sent and could have sent to a friend of mine.

Sunday evening :
Prepared uniform, backpack, lunchbox. Early and successful bedtime. Child & mother EXTREMELY MOTIVATED. Bring it ON, Prep!

Monday am:
SMOTH SAILING: healthy breakfast, ready to go, clean & dressed, even time for some make-up & short cartoon on TV. Yay! We rock!

Uh CHAOS, school run indeed tricky as have to bring boy inside. Am PARKING FAR OFF & walk with the crowd. Cool Lollipop lady!

Monday pm :
Wow, so PICKUP IS WORSE!? Kids waiting in ‘zones’ for drive-by parents. In this HEAT! Still looks like ok system. well, next year..

2minLATE, but collecting cheerful child in class. & Odd certificate “Congrats! T SURVIVED his first day in Prep” uhm… Yay? (WTF?)

Stopping for PREGNANT NEIGHBOUR w toddler & new classmate. walking! in the heat! might just have ‘caught’ me a CAR POOL..

Tuesday am/pm :
Pretty much the SAME AS DAY1. Car pool Xtra motivation for the boy, not much hassle for me really. Happy to help &it’s on our way.

Wednesday :
AUSTRALIA DAY ! am wondering if this DAY OFF might kind of cut the new routine a little. but great day with big emotions and seaside fun!

Child not cooperating at all at bedtime. Now HATES SCHOOL as had HATED KINDY days. great. Am worried for the morning routine.

Thursday am :
Am using pregnant neighbour to get really CLOSE PARKING. Cool. New ‘best mate’ & Lollipop lady helping with grumpy boy.

Thursday pm :
Odd how he would not stop talking usually, now in car ANSWERS NO QUESTIONS about his day at school. A teenager at 5. Oh well..

Friday am :
Neighbour’s husband driving them, ok. Am parking hazardously, & mute into CHIPPER MOTHER CLOWN 2 prevent tantrum in class.

Mother clown EPIC FAIL. Rushing out HEARTBROKEN as child cries for his mami w real tears. Teacher firm & friendly w us.

Friday pm :
omg WHAT time!? FARK  this can’t be happening! SO LATE for pick-up! Argh! AM WORST MUM IN THE WORLD ! forgive me, boy!

(…)

 

He was alright. I arrived 10 min late (!), after running (in thongs) from an even worse parking spot (basically inside a round-about); when I got there, he came running into me – ‘Mameeee!’ – so hard that I almost fell on the floor. The teacher gave me an indulging look and also a telephone number to call in case of delays in the future.
Yeah. Good idea. In case there is a real problem, and this SAHM is not just wasting time on the internet. FORGETTING her child. Uhm..

So how did you go ? Ready for week 2 ?
If you see me at school, don’t stop me for a chat. Am probably late again.

Cuteness overdose : Black Baby-Rhino! Look!

I love rhinos, they’re special to me, my ‘totem’ if you like  – don’t ask, it’s a bit of a personal story, wouldn’t even make sense for an outsider I guess – as you can see on my random AboutMe page.

In the US zoo of St Louis, a black rhinoceros was born on January 14, and the first photos are now in the press. If you missed it, just have a look !

DON’T YOU JUST WANT TO TAKE IT HOME AND CUDDLE IT ?
(mind you, 120 pounds at birth..)

Hope and New Beginnings

My heart goes out the people in Queensland concerned by the floods. Hang on, make that all of Australia, as floods are now reported from 5 different states! Thinking again, news reach us from Sri Lanka and Brazil, where , while Europe is not at the end of an unusually icy and snowy winter and blizzards have whipped through the USA. I leave it to experts to find explanations for all this.

Talk about depression : it’s ok to be sad.. sometimes!

I don’t know if it’s really appropriate to publish a link to a blog here, whose gifted and inspiring writer just suffered a heartbreaking tragedy in her family… Those who know who I mean will understand why I felt compelled to post this now. I had this ‘in a drawer’ for a while, obviously I have my own experiences with depression and related illnesses. Please read.

You wake up in the morning and you want to hide under your blanket, wishing it was still night and you did not have to face another day. And.. people !
All you want is to be alone, right there, under your blanket.
What’s going on ?
Maybe you have had recent grief in the family, or you are dealing with a separation, with sickness or with financial problems. Maybe there is just no particular reason.
You just wake up and it’s there. The sadness. The worry. The fear. Depression?

Many more people are concerned with depression and it’s related disorders than we usually think. It’s not just for 18th century painters an emos anymore.
Everybody can be depressive, or will suffer from the symptoms of depression, at least temporarily, once or several times in their life.

But wether you call it ‘your black dog‘ (like Churchill) or melancholy, wether you are already fully diagnosed and labelled with bi-polar disorder or only have a vague idea of the symptoms and you think that this really has never happened to anyone in your family….
Just talk to someone about it! You are NOT alone. And you can get help.

Of course, we all know ‘problems are unsexy’ and sometimes it is hard to talk about something so confusing and overwhelming to people who are close to you and may already suffer along with you.  But you don’t have to! Talk to your doctor, ANY doctor really, because today, even the GP of a remote village will be somehow schooled in how to deal with mental disorders, depression and the like.

In any case, a doctor will be able to refer you to either more specialized care or organizations in your area that can help you to approach your personal black dog.

Because, you know, he’s not really evil. (see?)
But, sometimes, sadness can make you angry, and many people concerned by depression push away others who just try to help. This causes a lot of distress in many families, and can be the root of more obvious problems, like alcoholism, drug abuse, domestic violence… The extreme fears and confusion felt by some depression patients is what sometimes drives them to do the really ‘insane’, the ‘crazy’ things. Our society needs to make it easier to prevent these things.

Today, we are also  more aware of how depression can affect children at an early age, and for them, just like the older generation, it can be very hard to grasp what their feelings could mean.
Children naturally just want to be happy and play, elderly people still fear the association with ‘the crazies’ that once stigmatized any mental disorder. It can be very confusing, scaring and very isolating. But times have changed! In the end we all have a little bit of crazy inside us. No should have to deal with their depression alone anymore. It’s ok to be feeling sad and you would be surprised to know how many people do !

Do you know someone who has that sad look in their eyes, even when everyone else is having a ball ? Has one of your friends or relatives more and more retrieved into their own little shell ? Talk to them about it.
Sometimes it’s hard to start a conversation about it. Don’t be too pushy, but show that you are there. Show them it’s ok.
It’s OK to be not OK.
We can’t all be clowns and entertainers everyday. Unfortunately, this is what our society seems to expect us to be though : Shiny happy people !  (not a feelgood song, i believe). Everywhere, indeed.

For some people, the key may be in a change of attitude. So some days may be a bit ‘overhung’ and black. It doesn’t mean that you can’t have a happy, fulfilled live. There will always be sun too.
It needs sun and rain to make a rainbow, doesn’t it ?

The word ‘happiness’ would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness. ~
Carl Gustav Jung (Swiss psychiatrist 1875 – 1961)

Counselling can often help to get through a hard time or deal with light chronic depression. There is no shame to see a “shrink”. Just make sure , that you find the person that is right for you, the one you can talk to, in confidence.
Don’t hesitate to change until you find the One !

For others, medication might just be the better solution.

Oh, I know! No one wants to be reduced to a happy vegetable or get dependant and slide into drug abuse. But medication for mental disorders have changed a lot in the last decades. Doctors are more careful with doses and see to adapt these to the individual patient. We are talking about supervised, reasonable drug use here, not doctor hopping and pill popping!

Depression is an illness, it can chronic or temporary. You would not go and experiment on acute blood pressure problems with over the counter medication either, so leave it to the professionals. Science and doctors know so much more today about the mechanisms of depression, the chemicals of our brain: medication has improved significantly. Of course, talk to them about how they effect you  during the whole period that you take these pills. Side effects can be huge, but should only be temporary. Not all drugs work on all people, and you can’t just stop them abruptly, either, so listen to any advice.
Again, it may be for a lifetime, or only for a few weeks, but you don’t need to deal with it all alone, there, under your blanket.

The first step is always to talk.
TALK to someone if you are feeling down.
TALK to someone who seems to be down.
Do it Today.   You might even save a life.

useful links :
- just google depression, really. It’s as easy as that.
Add your country/town for local help.
- help to start a conversation “RUOK?”

Pancake Time Machine – Part 2 France

On a journey through my personal pancake history, yesterday I wrote about my mum’s fabulous, sweet “Eierkuchen”, that lay in our tummies like lead. Moving on, here is Part 2 :

Young and chic  with Crêpes in France

My first experiences with French Crêpes  were during the 80s: I was off to my first school exchanges to France, and we also saw the appearance of Crêpes in Germany, in the form of snack shop Takeaways – very different to the traditional ‘Crêperies’, which are actual restaurants in the country of Origin, especially in Brittany.  Either way, I loved them with chocolate sauce and almonds or simple, with sugar and cinnamon.
But it wasn’t until the 90s, now migrated to France, that I learnt the three essential rules of Crêpe making :

1. – Get yourself a proper ‘poêle à crêpes ‘– a special Crêpes pan – treat it right and stick to it!
Every French household has to have their special pan, used only for Crêpes, ideally made from cast iron, but a quality teflon coated pan will do.  Most French cook on gas stoves and nothing is more annoying than a pan that is uneven after a few runs. Minimum diameter 26 cm, get a wooden or plastic long flat spatula too, it’s the best way to turn or move those thin pancakes on your plate. It is generally considered a deathly sin to wash the pan with dishwasher liquid or the like – only wipe thoroughly with an oiled sheet of kitchen tissue – or bring on the rage and contempt of the French housewife! And you don’t want that, you want her Crêpes.
So how does she make them ?
This brings us to rule number two – there is no rule. Ah, que Non!

2. – There is no such thing as the one French Crêpes recipe. While obviously you should aim for the super-thin, golden lightness, every family has their own ‘best recipe’ for Crêpes. So over a decade I have tried out everything from very liquid to cream-based recipes, had crispy edges or ate Crêpes that were barely cooked, I have experimented with spices and tasty double-cooked sugar beet sugar (vergeoise), and also made savoury buckwheat crepes (galettes).  Just don’t forget : add some yummy booze !

3. – If you don’t make a minimum of 20 Crêpes, forget about it.
It’s not that the individual Crêpe takes long to make but most recipes are made out to supply for a big and hungry family, and if you want just a crepe or two as a snack for yourself, you might as well buy one at a stand in the street or wait to be invited somewhere. Crêpe making is serious business, so you’re expected to make loads of them or don’t even bother to try.
And : never ever buy ready-made Crêpes in plastic from supermarkets, they taste like rubber sheets with sugar. Yuck!

Here is one of the many basic recipes for French Crêpes :
half a litre of milk,
5 eggs,
500 g flour,
2 tbsp oil,
a pinch of salt
2 tbsp sugar (or not),
popular optional ingredients – to taste :
orange/lemon zest , Cognac (!), Armagnac or Rum, vanilla sugar, cinnamon.. Oh! It seems incredibly important to let your dough rest a while.
Laissez reposer la pâte !
Note : Crêpes don’t need to be baked from both sides, but if you manage to tumble them, you earn lots of extra points from the natives!

Jean-Pierre Foucault, the presenter of the French “Who wants to be a millionaire” looks sheepish over a question on how many eggs to how much flour should be in a Crêpe dough. There is no answer, really.

Link :
wiki on French Crêpes

Y esterday : Eierkuchen – mum’s pancakes in Germany.
Tomorrow : K.I.S.S. for Pancakes – Part 3, Australia.

Sounds like Christmas to me ..

I had a hard time getting into my Christmas Groove this year, for all kinds of reasons. Music always helps me, and I wanted to take my son to the local “Carols by Starlight” – but we somehow missed it.. But I finally got out the boxes with the Christmas Stuff and that’s traditionally when I will start listening to Christmas music at home.
It doesn’t have to be the same carols all the time, they’re all on in the supermarkets, and although I have classics on my list, I thought it was fun to share what brings us joy this Christmas. I am blessed with the original add-free spotify, which is great for some ‘try before you buy’ or these more seasonal musical ‘dishes’. The spotify logo shows which albums are available via the site, the pictures of the album covers are links to Amazon for more info on artists, songs and, most times, samples. Have a listen!

"The Banks of the Ohio" – a strange lullaby…

Do you still sing lullabies for your little ones ?
I will just assume you do. Anybody should sing, at any age. No matter how.
Everybody should sing to and with children.
So I come from a musical family and it came instinctively to me to sing some soft and gentle song to my newborn right from the first time I held him in my arms. (Ok, maybe the next morning because the first day my voice was a bit off from all the screaming with all that pain…)

Now, to start off, like most of us I guess, I would sing the old tunes that my mother sang to me and here I was, humming traditional German lullabies.
I had to read up some lyrics, but, cradling my bundle of happiness, it was total bliss.
A few months down the line, going to sleep still was a little bit of an issue to say the least, and singing these same old songs over and over again would have given me a serious headache. Not to mention that I had in the meantime figured out that my son fell asleep almost instantly on “white noise” from the radio…
But my bedtime routine (battle) still included a lot of singing.
I extended the repertory.

First, as an expat,  I added the most common French ‘berceuses’, with the help of my local nanny (i was working back then).
Yeah, jolie et tout, but nothing very exiting here either.
I soon moved on to singing whatever slow and sweet song or ballad I could think of, folk songs, shanties, blues, you could say my son was doing the full Baby Einstein experience at bedtime.  (I’ll be back on that!)

One of those random songs was “Banks of the Ohio”. A very melodic US traditional, written by no one in special, interpreted and recorded by many. Now I must say to my defence that most probably I have learnt this song when – to my mother’s pride and delight – I was the angel-like preteen voice to my brother’s guitar playing..around 1980? Before I learnt English too.

Johnny cash may or may not have sung it in Folsom Prison.

I always only remembered the first verse. The lyrics were a bit odd but it allows fun variations for a female voice. I go for it pretty ‘country’ most times.  “I asked my looooooove, to take a waaaaalk…” and so forth. Well.

I recently started singing it again. My son now really likes it!  We are almost getting a real polyphony going  but also have a lot of fun with all the ‘loooove’ stuff. He figured out some ‘actions’ (gestures) to accompany the words.
But..we still only sing the first verse and those of you that may know the song, would know why. It’s not really a love song.
It’s a murderer’s ballad.
Yep. Maybe as a teen, he’ll think it’s kinda cool. But now he’s 5…

Wikipedia about “the banks of the Ohio” (with lyrics)
Olivia Newton-Johns version on youtube
Article on how popsongs replace lullabies (askamum.co.uk)

Have you taught your kids any weird songs at a somewhat inappropriate age or did your toddler pick up on some uncensored rudeness that came on the radio ? I have more examples (worse?), I can’t be alone with this?

My godmother.

I had sad news from overseas today.
My godmother’s husband died at the age of almost 86 last Friday.
Of course, at that age, my aunt as I like to refer to her, and anyone who knew them, would have expected him to pass away literally anytime, but it’s still sad. It’s sad because the two really were a wonderful couple and their marriage stands as an example that sometimes, in life, you will meet your true love, the one you’re meant to be with, only late and after many years of struggle and pain.

My godmother stood on my side this year when I rushed overseas to say goodbye to my mother. It was a painful time for many reasons, but she was there for me, no questions asked and, when needed, defended me and my life decisions towards others in my family who were not quite as solidary at a time where really, all that mattered should have been our shared grief.

Godparents, per definition, will take the place of your parents when you lose them. Although I still have my father (somewhere..), my aunt, at 78, reminded that she took this commitment very seriously, even if I am almost 40 now. I did not need to be reminded. She had always shown how much she really cared. About me, but also about my mother who had chosen her, the older neighbour and wife of my father’s first boss as a godmother for little me so many years ago because it just used to be what people did at the time.

I have always known my aunt as a witty and wise woman, strong and outspoken. She had worked her way up to be the head secretary in a renowned scientific institute, taught herself 2 foreign languages on the way and, when I was 14, she took me on a 2 week ski trip where, among other things,  she also taught me how to eat properly in a fancy restaurant.

But her life has been a long and painful journey before she found her late husband, a kind man and avid reader, who shared her love for style and her faith,  handsome (for an old chap) and with a witty spirit.

My godmother’s first husband was an abusive pig. Oh, he was educated alright, and had a high position in an academic institution. I never really knew what happened, but this year, we talked about it and it almost blew my mind. It seemed odd to hear this woman who never swears, say the words her first husband said to her now 50 years ago or so when he pushed her against the wall, with his hands on her throat.
He had broken both her arms before they were even married.

But she married him. They had a son. Her husband cheated on her, almost publicly, but without a job, with no profession, 50 years ago, it was not that easy for a woman to leave her husband  (is it today?) But eventually, she did.
My aunt found herself a job and got an apartment. She fell on her feet and lived for her son. But she also took part in the founding of an association for single women who had left an abusive marriage. I did not know all this.

I knew though, of course, that at the age of 25, her beloved son died tragically in a motorcycle accident caused by someone else. That’s when she left the city she had grown up and gone through so much pain to settle down on the other side of the country. It was here where she would meet her later husband in her church’s community. When they both retired shortly after, they took up travelling and many activities, they renovated a house together that her family inherited and moved there, to an idyllic spot at the coast of the Baltic Sea. My aunt would join, in the middle of her 60s, a group of neighbours that, every morning in summer, would meet and bath naked in the cold sea – and she was still doing it this year!

She also ‘forced’  me to take a swim, to clear my mind and get fresh ideas. It certainly worked, or it was simply being with her. Here she is, in bathing suit for the photo, but still – a classy silhouette for 78 years ! (I was less graceful, Australia has completely spoiled me for Baltic water temperatures I think)

Over the last years, her beloved husband started to lose his sharp mind to Alzheimer’s. She stood like a rock in the foamy waves of life by his side no matter what. Although I am sad for her, I know that her strength and wisdom, as much as her faith will help her through this time of grief. That and the love and support she receives in return just like she has so generously shared it throughout her life. My heart certainly goes out to her.

NB : October is Domestic and Family Violence Awareness Month. Post something. Say something. Talk about it. Don’t let silence help abuse happen.