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Watching the Matildas (Australian Women's National Soccer Team) play Chile and win, plus have the highest home attendance rate ever (20,000+), plus know that the women are being accorded equal pay with the men...it was good. Very good.
Must do that again, collecting more locals as we go.
However, on Sunday morning, the period turned up, as did the cramps which have become a regular feature the last couple of years. This put paid to gardening, although I did mosey on over to the local school fair. Wandered around a little, spotted a few people I knew and did the eye-contact/head nod thing before picking up a half-dozen cupcakes and going home.
Then I cooked a goose. Literally. A goose. Only it took rather longer than expected. I don't think I've ever cooked a roast that took the expected time; something always happens and it needs to go for another half-hour. Or an hour. Or in this case, two hours.
Luckily, there was nobody around for dinner - just me and the sistren.
I have one of those 'stick it in the lump of meat and it takes the temperature and shows you on a reader outside the oven' thermometers. I have to remmeber to use it more often when the lump of meat first goes into the oven. At least then I'll know when the internal temperature has reached 'cooked'...
The recipe is a Maggie Beer one - Maggie is the Aussie equivalent of...well, I can't think of the Aussie equivalent. But she's an older woman with a cookery empire stretching back to at least the late 90s and likely earlier except that I didn't really pay attention back then because I didn't have to cook.
--
Tuesday is forecast to be a CATASTROPHIC fire danger day. Hot, with high winds. There is a total fire ban.
Basically, if anything catches fire, there's a high chance of many things ending up toast. Just as large swathes of northern coastal NSW have ended up toast.
Meanwhile, our politicians continue to deny that there's any such thing as 'climate change', and our PM wants to make it illegal for environmentalists, greenies, or anyone who believes in Climate change to protest big business. As in, arrestable, chargeable.
As such, I switched around my 'office writing day' from tomorrow to another day (I usually have two a week) because I need to deal with the stuff around the house - including all the leaves that have fallen off my Illawarra Flame tree - seasonal for this time of year as it bursts into flower, but I don't usually have to worry about things catching fire for another month.
So the plan for tomorrow is to build a compact and enclosed hot compost pile in the empty compost bay behind the house. I don't think I can make it hot enough to catch fire - not enough nitrogen in the mix right now - so it should be okay. And I can use the leaves and the lawn clippings and the remaining woodchip pile to build it up.
Maybe. It's a big job and lately I feel like my body's falling apart. Which really just means I don't have the energy and resilience I did when I was 32...
Then I have to decide what I'm going to do on Tuesday: stay home and sweat it out, or go somewhere with air conditioning and hope for the best...
Must do that again, collecting more locals as we go.
However, on Sunday morning, the period turned up, as did the cramps which have become a regular feature the last couple of years. This put paid to gardening, although I did mosey on over to the local school fair. Wandered around a little, spotted a few people I knew and did the eye-contact/head nod thing before picking up a half-dozen cupcakes and going home.
Then I cooked a goose. Literally. A goose. Only it took rather longer than expected. I don't think I've ever cooked a roast that took the expected time; something always happens and it needs to go for another half-hour. Or an hour. Or in this case, two hours.
Luckily, there was nobody around for dinner - just me and the sistren.
I have one of those 'stick it in the lump of meat and it takes the temperature and shows you on a reader outside the oven' thermometers. I have to remmeber to use it more often when the lump of meat first goes into the oven. At least then I'll know when the internal temperature has reached 'cooked'...
The recipe is a Maggie Beer one - Maggie is the Aussie equivalent of...well, I can't think of the Aussie equivalent. But she's an older woman with a cookery empire stretching back to at least the late 90s and likely earlier except that I didn't really pay attention back then because I didn't have to cook.
--
Tuesday is forecast to be a CATASTROPHIC fire danger day. Hot, with high winds. There is a total fire ban.
Basically, if anything catches fire, there's a high chance of many things ending up toast. Just as large swathes of northern coastal NSW have ended up toast.
Meanwhile, our politicians continue to deny that there's any such thing as 'climate change', and our PM wants to make it illegal for environmentalists, greenies, or anyone who believes in Climate change to protest big business. As in, arrestable, chargeable.
As such, I switched around my 'office writing day' from tomorrow to another day (I usually have two a week) because I need to deal with the stuff around the house - including all the leaves that have fallen off my Illawarra Flame tree - seasonal for this time of year as it bursts into flower, but I don't usually have to worry about things catching fire for another month.
So the plan for tomorrow is to build a compact and enclosed hot compost pile in the empty compost bay behind the house. I don't think I can make it hot enough to catch fire - not enough nitrogen in the mix right now - so it should be okay. And I can use the leaves and the lawn clippings and the remaining woodchip pile to build it up.
Maybe. It's a big job and lately I feel like my body's falling apart. Which really just means I don't have the energy and resilience I did when I was 32...
Then I have to decide what I'm going to do on Tuesday: stay home and sweat it out, or go somewhere with air conditioning and hope for the best...
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Also, how was the goose? I don't think I've ever eaten one.