Turn of the year

It's the last day of the year, when lots of bloggers reminisce on the year.

Yeah, not so much for me. The past cannot be changed and future is yet to be, so no New Year's resolutions either because of the variables likely to pop up and screw around with any future plans.

So. I will simply say that if your out partying tonight, stay safe and enjoy yourselves. Tomorrow begins a new year with unknowable potential. Once the hangover passes, it's a clean slate, with no regrets and plenty of energy to think on what's to come.

Let's hope 2011 is an improvement on 2010.

Now, I'm off to take the teenagers to the local carnival and water-slides; it's hot here and tomorrow it's going to be gruesomely roasting at over 100 degrees Farenheit. It's good to live next to a beach...

Blerk...

Blerk. Is that a word? It must be a word. It has to be a word, coz it describes how I feel at the moment.

Way too much eating and drinking. I made too much for just the two of us for breakfast and lunch and three for dinner.

I love getting into the kitchen at Christmas and everything worked! I know I'm not supposed to use new recipes for the first time on important occasions, but it worked!

Now, I have plenty of leftovers for tomorrow, for what we call 'Bread and Get It'. I put everything out on the table with bread and everyone gets their own dinner. We have peeps turning up tomorrow evening. Simple. Especially since I'm gonna be on the bike working overtime to compensate for the over-eating today. And I can do that while watching the cricket and the NFL - go the Cowboys!

I hope everyone had a most excellent Christmas, with or without the blerk...

Merry Christmas to all

Here it is, Christmas Eve.

Today, I have made half a dozen beds for visitors arriving over the next couple of days, washed the kitchen floor, done a couple of loads of washing, dusted, vaccuumed, shopped (twice), baked, made eight mini-trifles - two standard and six Black Cherry chocolate and fondled the presents under the tree. Tonight, I will make a peach upside-down pudding and a smoked trout salad (washed down with a rather nice Merlot).

Tomorrow, the real cooking begins - after I have trashed the aforementioned presents. We'll begin with Vanilla French Raison Toast, then mince pies, followed by prawn cocktails, roast chicken with all the trimmings and the trifles accompanied by a nice Sauvignon Blanc. For dinner, there'll be roast pork with potato and leek bake and green beans followed by the Christmas Pud my brother made for us and custard, and a Cabernet Merlot. After that... well... I'm guessing the exercise bike for an hour or so if I'm not too, ah, tired. And then I shall relax and think it fortunate this day only comes around once a year, while playing with the loot.

Actually, I have no idea if I'm getting any toys this year. I've poked and prodded and fondled and shaken and rattled, but none make any noise - damn it.

So. Happy Christmas everyone. Be calm in the face of the weird relatives, be understanding of the irritating children and be ferocious in protecting your own toys. Remember: all that happens this season is grist to your writing mill.

The Australian version of the 12 Days of Christmas:

Twelve possums playing,
Eleven lizards leaping,
Ten wombats washing,
Nine crocs a-snoozing?
Eight dingos dancing,
Seven emus laying,
Six sharks a-surfing,
Five kangaroos,
Four lyrebirds,
Three wet galahs,
Two snakes on skis,
And a kookaburra in a gum tree.

'Tis the season...

Yes, a little writer's humour but it made me laugh. My sister mentioned it; a work colleague sent it to her and another staff member came in asking what they were giggling over. L. showed her. The reply? "So, what were you laughing at?" Which was even funnier to them.

Also on the giggle front is Allie Brosh's six-year-old view of the Nativity. All I can say is, 'poor Kenny'. I'm sure many a family has a tale of revamped Nativities.

Yesterday's Lunar Eclipse was as spectacular as expected:

Source: Gary Ramage, The Australian. My photos weren't nearly as amazing - the trees got in the way. Scientists say the colour is due to the dense atmosphere of the Earth; pagans will say it is a Hunter's Moon, or Blood Moon, where violence is sure to follow. A Solstice full moon is a Honey Moon and pagans pass around the honey cakes and wassailing - a ceremony of placing toast in a selected tree, as a representation of the Green Man, to scare away the evil spirits and pouring cider around the roots as a token to ensure a good harvest. 'Wassail' means 'good health' in Middle English, with the hope of a better year to follow.

And so, on to Christmas...

Which will you be?

A reminder that the Solstice and Christmas isn't about denying yourself (an e-mail from my sister, who might just be going to hell for this one; and since that's where all the fun people are, I might just join her.):

This woman is 51.
She is a TV health guru advocating a holistic approach to nutrition and ill health, promoting exercise, a pescetarian diet high in organic fruits and vegetables. She recommends detox diets colonic irrigation and supplements, also making statements that yeast is harmful, that the colour of food is nutritionally significant, and about the utility of lingual and faecal examination.


This woman is 50.

She is a TV cook, who eats nothing but meat, butter and desserts.

So forget join a gym and eat more celery.

This Christmas, it's food and booze all the way.

And the only exercise you need is dancing and shagging.






I'd like to think I'd look more like Nigella Lawson by the time I turn fifty, but I fear I will more resemble the 'health guru' instead! Fortunately, I have plenty of time yet.

Just remember: this Solstice (Summer, like us down here, or Winter up there) and Christmas comes but once a year. Eat, drink and be damn thankful the relatives will only stay for a short time.

Of droughts and flooding rains

It's so humid here, it feels like Queensland - and it's not. Thunderstorms, buckets of rain and, sadly, the cancellation of the Santa Ride.

While the northern hemisphere freezes, we have humidity and rain and flooding rivers; makes a nice change from heat and flies and drought.

I love a sunburned country; (one of the highest melanoma countries in the world)
A land of sweeping plains, (in the outback, you can see the curve of the horizon)
Of ragged mountain ranges, (which aren't so ragged really, being worn down)
Of droughts and flooding rains. (one or t'other, rarely in between)
I love her far horizons, (13,000kms of coastline)
I love her jewel-sea, (with the sharks, the crocs, the blue-bottles, jellyfish...)
Her beauty and her terror - (funnelweb spiders, taipan snakes, cassowaries, death adders, redbacks, stonefish...)
The wide brown land for me! (that's either the dirt of drought, or the muddy water of rivers in flood).

Two months ago, some of our dams were at crisis levels, as in less than ten percent full; now those dams are overflowing.

Here on the coast, we're getting a caning too. But at least we haven't flooded... yet.

Harvesting

The Nano stats are in and results are up across the board from last year. Just a sample: Of the 200,530 people who signed up, 37,479 finished as winners; that's 18.6 percent.

Nano remains as popular as ever, regardless of the the criticisms.

I'm still a little weirded out that it's December, that I need to get on with some prezzo shopping and some baking (I've found some new recipes to try out on my sister, heh, heh). I've directed my attention to the kitchen and the garden to renew creativity. I have so many chores to do that I neglected during November and being away from writing is as good as a holiday.

I cleaned out the fridge and freezer and found I had way too many bananas in the freezer. They'll go back, but converted into banana cake and banana muffins.

The veggie patch needs a ferocious weeding, but with all the rain (in eight days, we've had two were it hasn't rained), I'm finding other stuff to do inside. The tomatoes and zucchinis are pretty fab and I think the garlic and onions are almost ready. Potatoes are in there and I have some slow-growing, out-of-season, why-are-you-still-growing, brussell sprouts. Maybe they'll be ready by Autumn...

I still have a towering tbr pile, too. I need to whittle it down, and gee, I think I'll go do that while the bananas are thawing.

Spiced wine-ing

Hypocras making day today. The spiced wine needs to mature before Christmas and I'll be busy next month.

I have a nice, mellow Cabernet Merlot, with berry and plum overtones, that I'll heat to steaming and to which I shall add cinnamon sticks, nutmeg, cloves, honey, brown sugar and cardamom pods. Then I let it cool, strain out the debris and bottle.

By Christmas, it will have a full-bodied, syrupy and subtly spiced flavour - just the thing for toasting. And it's good for you: red wine has anti-oxidants to hunt down and absorb free radicals.

Henry VIII had a glass or two to help with his digestion. His breakfast lasted two hours and he tasted every dish laid before him. The 'left overs' were given to the lords and ladies, then any remains went to the staff who prepared his meals. They, at least, preferred to survive on pottage - a dish made of grains soaked in hot water - and had more roughage in it than Henry's meals. The king became obese and suffered for it, probably causing his death, although he also suffered from a continually festering leg wound.

Henry's hypocras contained goldleaf flakes, mine does not. Some recipes also call for ambegris - icky stuff from the intestine of a whale that's been regurgitate. All I can say is: "Oh, the horror!!"

Weathering

After ten years, New South Wales has been declared drought-free although some areas remain at risk.

This is excellent news for farmers and, just as importantly, food prices which should start to decline as the massive crops are brought in.

Also announced is that the Southern Oscillation Index (SOI) is at its' highest level since 1973 - a big wow! there - at +25. What that means is above average rainfall, or the La Nina effect.

The weather will become more humid and the temps at night remaining higher with the cloud cover.

It also means... more 'pideys in da house. Spiders, it seems to me, don't like wet or damp weather, preferring - like any self-respecting beastie (unless you're a duck) - to be indoors when it rains. Red-backs, it should be noted, love damp places, so it pays to look in and under damp things before picking them up.

And... since I've already had a near miss with a baby Huntsman and a black spider, it means spraying the post box. I'm still squicked out by the Huntsman; they can grow to the size of a toddler's hand, fingers an' all.

It also just happens, that the weather will play a part in my upcoming Nano novel, because La Nina also brings cyclones (hurricanes in the U.S., typhoons in Asia). While most people don't really consider the weather, other than hot, cold, wet or dry to decide what to wear, it's important to consider trends when writing in fictional worlds.

Weather happens: it affects your characters, their actions, the consequences, dialogue, the society on a local and maybe a global scale. It might also create a solution to your characters troubles, or make them worse.

Remember, along with a nifty, if inappropriate sex scene, weather is great for the word count.

Now to ward off any eight-legged beasties with the Baygon...

Shite and Briney

Six a.m. The rain and too much thinking has conspired to awaken me and keep me awake. I am not soothed by rain on a tin roof, it's loud and obnoxious. La Nina is in full swing, heading to rage.

With Nano coming up in a couple of weeks, I've got a bad case of hmmm-I-must-write-that-down-itis. A syndrome which has no compassion for the time. A lot of writers get it I believe and the only cure is to write the book - or take drugs.

So, I'm at my desk, beavering away (yes, I know I'm on the 'net, but I have the manuscript open and ready to put in the edits). A hundred pages to go and I'm coming up to an emotionally difficult part of the book. It's made me a cranky-pants around the house, because it's a part of the book that must be there. Sigh.

The day is brightening from dark to gloomy and it's chilly, almost back to Winter, except for the dampness. Time for a latte! And words, plenty of words.

Aussie Day

Whoo-hoo! Australia Day! So I worked on the manuscript this morning and then big sis turned up with Lamington cupcakes, home made bread, Dijon mustard and franks for hot dogs. Not exactly Aussie fare (she picked up a pork pie for the maternal influencer - her being British and all) but we were actually sitting down to watch a replay of the American Football match between Indianapolis and New York.

Sadly, we were going for the Jets.

I did get to watch the Vikings/Saints match live yesterday, and wow, what a game! Might have to watch the reply of that one on Saturday.

Yes, I know it's Australia's day, but we had the lamoes and I did watch the cricket. And this is a multicultural country full of wonder cuisines and cultures that blend well with our own and make this country... great. So the Italian Pasta tonight with the American Football today isn't odd, just all part of the scenery.

I'm not one for the beach or the sun given the basal cell carcinoma removal from under my eye a couple of years ago - the sun is not my friend any more. The best I can do is watch vicariously via the teev. To wit, the above picture of the Great Sydney Ferry Race. Buckets of small boats and tall ships on the Harbour to watch.

It matters not who wins, but the sheer enjoyment of being on the water.

Now, I'm back at the desk, beavering away. I've spotted at least one plot that's missing and I'll have to go back and put it in once I'm done with this draft. It will make the book larger, but by the end of this draft, it will have more pages than the other three. There'll be other stuff I've missed, too, and the notes are growing.

I have to get back to it. Tonight, there will be fireworks and bubbly and I fully expect to become 'tired and emotional' since the parent doesn't drink much...

What? I can't let a bottle of bubbly go to waste, now can I?

A New Day

Happy New Year to all. 2009 was a hell of a year and I'm glad it's over.

Time to plan for new stuff - not resolutions, who sticks to them?

Anyway. Last night it was like a war zone here. Fireworks went off from all directions, like gunshots, with machine-gun intensity, with the deep boom of mortars and around the Bay, like the distant sound of artillery. There were shouts and whoops and cheers and ambulance sirens and people clutching bottles wandering the streets uncaring of any vehicle that might be on the road. Clouds of smoke, the scent of gunpowder and swirling blue lights of police.

Nope, I don't live in the city, but in the country. Jervis Bay and the towns, um villages really, is a tourist mecca come holiday times but especially for the week between Christmas and New Year. The hot sun, the clear waters of the sea, the pristine, blindingly white sand... all attract city-folk to the area.

We are bursting at the seams with people!

Locals, however, either leave or stock up on supplies and stay home. We roll our eyes at the tourist antics - the lobster-red sunburns, the lack of car indicator use, the packs of teenagers wandering around searching for something to do, cyclists without helmets or shirts, drivers busy on the phone...

But in a week, most will have returned home, satisfied with the holiday by the sea and thankful they're back surrounded by the trappings of civilisation lacking in the country. How do I know this? A certain amount of tourists are less than circumspect in their public comments and conversations.

We locals will sigh with relief and await the influx of the more polite grey travellers; the retirees touring the country in caravans and motorhomes.

In the end, this time of the year is an enormous boost to the local economy. We're a beach community and those beaches are jammed with people enjoying the sea.

I know there are a lot of sharks out there, but we have have hourly air patrols, so our visitors should be safe; I'm staying out of the water and out of the way. I'm staying in to watch College Football.

Christmas excess

I hope everyone had an excellent Christmas. I did.

It bucketed with rain, on both Christmas Day and Boxing Day. Canberra needed the rain and it's been years since it is rained on the Big Day.

I have two new books to read: Dean Koontz's Reckless and Stieg Larsson's The Girl Who Kicked a Hornet's Nest. I can read them while listening to Lily Allen.

I had planned to work on a short story to post for Christmas, but... as luck would have it, I took the wrong thumb drives - no stories on either, or on the laptop hard drive. So, it will have to wait for later this week.

This year, I drank too much and ate too much - to the extent that I felt like Geraldine Grainger in The Vicar of Dibley Christmas Special. If you don't know it, the vicar has to eat three full Christmas lunches, much to her regret - and mine.

Thankfully, it only happens once a year and it was great to have a Christmas away.

I'll hunt up the story I have in mind and post it. Now, it's time for a nap - way too much good cheer...

Christmas...

Here I am in heat-soaked Canberra for Christmas. We haven't been away from home for the season in a decade or more, peeps come to us - might have something to do with living next to the beach and the lovely onshore breeze to cool the day down.

Today, hopefully while most people are out doing their final mad dash for Christmas presents, seafood and Christmas cheer, I shall be watching 'Avatar'. In 3D. In the air conditioned theatre. A yes, a right wallowing.

So. Time to collect the niece and wander off to Borders and then the movies. WOOT!

I wish everyone a happy and safe Christmas tomorrow. And look, really, when it comes to the usual fights between rellos? How important is it? Life or death? Move on, let it go... Until Boxing Day, then hammer them!

Summer fare

There are certain times of the year when writing or editing are virtually impossible. When visitors come, big birthdays, Easter and... Christmas.

I have decided I cannot catch up on my reading pile, edit, do housework and everything associated with Christmas all at the same time; so I'm not going to try.

The tree is up, the prezzos bought, wrapped and the delivery near completed, hypocras made and distributed. I also whipped up a batch of Chocolate Crackles. For the first time. Like Vegemite, Australians grow up with Chocolate Crackles, they're an icon of home for those living and working overseas.

They're made with Rice Bubbles, cocoa (or melted chocolate), coconut and Copha. Only in Australia can you get Copha - it is made from hydrogenated coconut oil, 100% fat. Not so good.

It's used as the solidifying agent in Chocolate Crackles, but... I didn't have any and couldn't be bothered going up the street to get some. Surfing the 'net provided a solution: melted chocolate with butter with added caster sugar. It all worked so beautifully...

But next time, I think I'll use unsalted butter.

* * *

So Summer here brings out buzzing bush flies, whining mosquitoes, creaking cicadas and oblivious tourists sizzling under the sun. The flies, no problem. The cicadas, not much you can do about their noise. The tourists, well, nothing I can say will deter them from deep frying themselves. But... I've just encountered a near indestructible mosquito.

They make 'em tough these days. Twice I slapped that sucker between my hands and twice it looked at me as if to say, "Is that the best you can do?" And continued to dive bomb. I even smacked it when it landed. It snickered contemptuously and took off. I thought that, if nothing else, the shock wave of slapping a mozzy would kill the bugger. A hard hand and soft target usually does the trick - maybe I had around the other way.

It's dead now. Smeared on a rolled up newspaper. All twisted out of shape.

I expect the Mafia mozzies to call any time now for revenge: Probably Long-Nose Mo and Legs Malone.

Cool Yule

I was going to write a post on what's happening - or not happening - over in Copenhagen... but I decided it makes me too angry to write a cohesive and reasoned blog.

So, instead, a friend sent me this:

Once again, I was disqualified from my neighborhoods "Best Decorated House" contest due to my bad attitude!

Who Dat?

Every year, we have the Santa Ride and every year, more Santas turn up. Over two hundred this time. Because of environmental concerns, the reindeer have to stay at home - can you imagine two thousand plus reindeer and their...er... emissions on the street?

Nope. Santas leave them at home but collect donations for worthy causes on their way to the local pub. There, the Santas can slake the thirst of a four kilometre ride and chat about Santary things. In particular, which Santa is going to which country to drop off the loot.

And you thought Santa lived at the north pole...

Tis the season

Editing is underway... kind of.

I don't know whether you know this but... it's not long to Christmas. I've been running around searching for prezzos - big family - and I've made this year's batch of hypocras (spiced wine) in both white and red. Hypocras allegedly gets its name from Hippocrates and various versions have been around since. Romans drank it. It was King Henry VIII's favourite beverage, although he had gold leaf mixed into his. At the time, it was thought gold leaf helped digestion (and his main meal took two hours).

I love the stuff. Various grape types give hypocras a different flavour, so there's no standard taste.

Anyway. Today, I'm off to Canberra for a meeting tomorrow. I can indulge in some shopping in Da Big Smoke, too. I won't be back until Wednesday night and that means, first edits will have to wait for Thursday. True to form, lots of ideas are arriving to improve the book and I don't have time to put them in.

Now, I have to go pack...

Timed distractions

Two weeks to go until Nano. It seems far away, two weeks, and yet it's only 14 days. I mean it's 336 hours which is plenty of time to do other stuff.

The closer 1 November gets, the higher my stress levels until I don't get much sleep on 31 October, for all the description, the characters, the dialogue, etc., running through my head.

I used to stress out about whether the story would be strong enough, or even long enough, whether I had enough characters and plot, wonder what the end would be. That still holds true of any new work, but this year I'm doing two sequels and newbie. The latter still being an amorphous, 20 second film clip in my head containing an argument, an accident and burning resentment. I don't know how much of it will get written given the second sequel has to be more than 100k.

To keep from worrying about it all, I need distractions. Something other than writing to keep my active mind busy, and my subconscious mind working on the story lines.

So, I've been up the family tree again. The thing about this type of research is the hurry up and wait; wait for the documents to come online. Of course, I have enough rellos to be going on with. If I hit a dead end with one, there are a dozen or more to look up.

I'm also planning a veggie patch. Being botanically-challenged, I need to start from scratch... like what the seasonal vegetables are and when I should put them in. Oh, and whether I like them or not; no point in growing stuff you hate. We're moving into Summer and I'm sure there are buckets of stuff I could grow. The compost is nearly ready for me to spread largesse, and gardening, I believe, is an excellent de-stressor.

Now, I shall sneak off and do some research... got to have research...

DST

No one mentioned Daylight Savings. Nope. Of course, I wasn't watching any of the news channels either.

I've been so busy focusing on other things, I didn't give it thought. I mean, Summer? It's bucketing with rain and cool. Who's thinking of Summer time? Not me. I'm not done with Winter or Spring yet.

Now my early rising - around six thirty-ish - isn't so early, and I'm lying awake at night until the standard time kicks in. It takes me a while to change over.

Once upon a time, Daylight Savings didn't start until the end of October, which, granted, made getting up to start Nano early a little difficult. But no one asked me if I'd like DST extended. It used to be November to March. Now it's October to April. I don't need Summer to be that long - I'm a cold weather kid.

There's only been one other time when I've missed the changeover - when my sister and I landed in Los Angeles. The pilot didn't mention anything about it and S. and I wandered through the day oblivious, like in a time warp. Everyone was an hour ahead of us. Weird. There's got to be a story in that somewhere...

Anyway. This morning is NFL and I'm off to watch it - then, work.