Just Another Maggot Monday...

This Easter Monday ima go all David Attenborough on you...

Finding myself at a bit of a loss of what to do I started the day by doing some observation in my garden. Lets not go into detail as to how exactly the pile of maggot infested rotting flesh came to be on the lawn -I thought it might make good bird food but the local chicks weren't interested at all (probably full of old pasta I chucked out earlier); the ants however, were.

Flies appeared out of nowhere. Three types: mostly green bottles, one housefly (Musca domestica) and a couple of flesh flies (which contrary to reputation, were not all over the flesh but rather each other -when the female finally turned up, mostly it was just the male sunning himself and posturing on a nearby rock). Their family name is Sarcophagidae which derives from the Greek words: sarco=flesh + phage=eating, and are kinda special because they are ovoviviparous, which means they deposit hatched or hatching maggots instead of eggs on carrion, dung, decaying material, or open wounds of mammals.


Oh and a fruit fly eventually wandered along for a nosey but that doesn't really count does it? Wait lemme go check...

Common house fly is:

Order:	Diptera
Section:	Schizophora
Family:	Muscidae
Genus:	Musca
Species:	M. domestica

Whereas "Fruit" flies are:

Order: Diptera Family: Drosophilidae Genus: Drosophila
Species: D. melanogaster
I guess the answer is yes (they're a type of fly) AND no (they're not in the muscidae family), I tend to think of flies as Musca. (Oooo and did you know there is a star constellation called Musca? Yeah, it's that little bunch of stars just below Crux, the Southern Cross!)

I couldn't tell if it was specifically D. melanogaster or not. They're Lab. flies widely used for biological research in studies of genetics, physiology, microbial pathogenesis etc. Incidentally, the melanogaster part is Greek for dark-bellied dew lover. Now, there's some trivia for ya!

	I'm not sure what the green flies were doing, I didn't see them laying eggs as they seemed more concerned with chowing down on the slimy goodness like it was going out of season -which it is really, this being a drought and all. What was most interesting was the tiny parasitic wasp that showed up quite early on and proceeded to haphazardly and tirelessly thrust her ovipositor into each and every poor, unsuspecting maggot. The theory being that her offspring will, quite literally eat the host maggot from the inside out. Helped along by polydnaviruses, ovarian proteins, and venom injected with the egg to assist in overcoming the maggot's immune defence system. She kept up this racket for the whole half hour I watched.
	And then there was the little beetle. I have nothing more to say about the beetle. It just was. It wandered past with no intent except, presumably, to get where it was going. Let me finish with the ants. Perhaps I should've started with them, ubiquitous as they are, scurrying across the hard, sun baked clay. On a normal day all you have to do is bend down and peer into the remnants of grass stubble. One or two bumped stumbled across the writhing mass, followed by more. They soon got a trail started. Their little anty pheromones screaming "Food! Food! Food!" to each passing comrade. It started out slowly but as each unsuspecting maggot swerved but a millimetre too far off the festering pile, it was pillaged by a black ant who triumphantly hoisted it aloft and carried it away to certain doom. This went on for quite some time as the ants didn't seem too sure what to make of the maggot pile at first but as the weaklings were separated from the herd the ants became braver and more heroic in their endeavours. Dehydration took effect and after some hours I came back to see a lattice-like  shell of jerky with the odd ant still running to and fro joyously revelling in his conquest of half a shrivelled maggot. I wonder what, if anything, will be left by the morning?

My totally Unbiased Encounter with Lady Gaga FAME

A.K.A not judging a book by it's cover (or in this case, perfume by it's bottle).

I like to smell things.
I like to smell other people.
I like to smell nice or at least interesting.

Every few years or so I like to buy myself a nice perfume. Overseas travel affords the perfect foil for my sweet plans. I get to sniff wafts of delightful fragrances for the best part of an hour whilst not being rushed or having the feeling of needing to be anywhere other than standing glazey-eyed in the midst of gorgeously scented bottles. Of course there are some bad eggs but that's where the sales assistant comes in -they know their stuff and I resist all urges to say "nah, nah just looking" when they offer to guide my selection.

This time I was looking for something special.

6:30am and I couldn't smell anything like what I had in my nose brain. We tried heaps of different ones... some I instantly rejected wondering who would even douse their enemies in the stuff, some I lingered over undecidedly (typical!). My arms were dripping and my fingers clutching an assortment of stinky cards. I felt bad that I looked like I wasn't going to buy anything especially as she was pregnant and it can't be easy on your feet chasing round after fussys like me. I had passed the point of no return -I had to buy something.

I found one that seemed to be the best but when it came down to it I just couldn't part with money for something in an angular yellow bottle. I couldn't stand the thought of that ugly thing sitting on my dresser. Sure, it might smell nice...

I cast around for an excuse not to buy it. "Do you haaave anyyything else?" I implored. To which she turned around and squirted something on a little card. "I love it!" I couldn't believe I'd finally found it; this was what my nose was telling me I wanted.

Apparently it contains "tears of belladonna, crushed heart of tiger orchidea with a black veil of incense, pulverized apricot and the combinative essences of saffron and honey drops" 

Then she showed me the bottle... Basically a black egg.

(Just as well I didn't know about the stupid gold alien claw til I got it home)

"Yes, this is FAME the first fragrance by Lady Gaga. It utilises special technology enabling the black fluid to turn clear when it is sprayed..."

Black fluid. Can I get a "gimmicky?"


Sarah is not impressed.


Now,  it's no secret that I'm not that into pop music (unless it's in another language) which is the broad category I'd put Lady Gaga in (am I right? Just guessing here) and I'm definitely not into slavishly following trends. Turned out that my nose was able to overcome my wish to avoid associations with pop industry, especially a singer I don't particularly admire. What's more, the poster I'd seen but not registered as selling a perfume was absolutely hideous. The worse version of that. So creepy and dark (not at all like the perfume)

I freely admit that I'm led by my eyes and I never would've picked up a black perfume by a pop star, let alone bought it but I'm so glad I did.

Now if only we could apply this lesson to our life somehow?

Thoughts I've collected...

Life's not fair. Once you can get over that you can handle anything that comes your way. 

Never judge a book by it's cover. Trust me on that one and just never do that. 

Good things take time. Yes, I like cheese but it's more than that; some things can't be rushed. 

Practice makes better, not perfect. Perfect alliterates better but it's just not true. 

Choose a short email address. You'll be surprised how often you need to write it. 

Spices are the varieties of life. I have etymological evidence to back me up on this one: Varieties = Species = Spices

Never stop learning. If you do you might as well be dead... Or as Albert Einstein put it "The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom the emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand wrapped in awe, is as good as dead —his eyes are closed." 

Listen more. That's why you have two ears and one mouth :-) 

Better late than never... If it's worth having, it's worth waiting for. 

Don't fear going on holiday and to the movies/shows/restaurants by yourself. You might find you can enjoy your own company. 

You can't have your cake and eat it too. This is the entitlement mentality which only = immature. 

The "easy way" is not always the easiest. 

Let your theology define your music -not vice versa. 

Don't pick your nose in public. Needs no further explanation. 

Find a job you like and you too can be one of the few (also, you may never know how long you'll have it) 

Stay in contact with family. 

Humans are weird. 

Don't begrudge others their happiness -instead rejoice with those who do rejoice.

No one can be right all the time. Be able to accept you may be wrong after all. 

Purposefully cultivate good habits. You will be a better you -even if no one else knows. 

Don't accept the whole of any one man's teaching. Unless it's in the Bible -it ain't gospel. 

Try new things but don't be so open minded so as to part company with your brain (also inspired by Albert Einstein)

Eye Twister

Coarse eye no wear ewe eight yore san witch

Stuff Kids Say

Imagine a four-year-old boy running through the dormant wisteria arbor, arms waving in the air, singing "Catuses... Cactuses... Cactuses" with his almost two-year-old sister hard on his heels joining the "cactuses" chorus. One guess where they were headed. "Jonny, look at this flying plant" I overheard today from a 4 year-old boy to his young friend, referring to an hanging basket. hehe I get to spend my lunch break in a stunningly beautiful place, why, this very noon I overheard a little girl say... "Is this the secret garden?"

Noticed on a Walk

On my long walk I noticed: a tree stump whose entire cut surface was covered in lichen, the first jonquil I've seen this year, a flamed shaped leaf with perfectly graduated flame colouring, a worm that had been too slow, goldfinches nibbling in a plane tree (who knew they even did that?), a pair of white-faced herons on a business park verge, a crack in the footpath that cut through the curb and extended a metre into the road, a cylindrical apple core with a diameter of one centimetre it's whole length lying where someone had tossed it -but on it's end!!

Theo's Doings: Year 2

July: Playing "run and seek" up and down the hallway with Theo completes my exercise for the day. 

Theo is being such a puppy dog today... trotting around after me wherever I go. 

Who somehow found my credit card at 5:30 this morning and made it his new toy, running around my room with it and every time I turned the light on just lay there blinking like "turn it off I'm trying to sleep"?

Theo's way of punishing me for letting his food bowl get low is to find the biggest, hairiest spider he can find and torturing it under my bed, whilst I'm sleeping. I'm sure I woke up to spider wails. 

August: Thought I saw Theo playing with another cat when I walked up the drive just now... nope, just him and his massively fluffy tail. 

Theo is such an egg; he would rather sit in the dark in the other room waiting to see if the wheel on the stationary bike will start spinning again. 

Theo, who likes to drink water out of drinking glasses, was in for a salty surprise when he hopped up on the vanity and decided to sample my mouthwash... hahaha, poor love. He was not impressed... although, I doubt it will curb his human glass guzzling ways. 

Theo was lying on his back inspecting the underside of the footstool... looking just like a mechanic under a car. 

Theo has found a short cut to my front door... Walking THROUGH the pot plant. 

Theo loves hanging out with me all day on Saturday... What a sweet boy.

No Longer Wise

I had my wisdon teeth removed at great expense to myself... Feeling remarkably chipper. The nurse said I wouldn't remember much post-op... but I do. I woke up to someone saying "no need to snore Sarah" and then "we're just going to take out the swabs" and I opened my eyes to see two big red worms being pulled out of my mouth. I feeling really good. Look a bit of a state but all I can find to complain about is numbness Which is great as numbness is kinda fun! (might have been "not quite with it" when I wrote that) Good Theo fulfilling his role. I have lovely parents taking care of me and preparing soft food for me. I recommend everyone get themselves a pair. Sorry if this is TMI... My mouth is pretty mingin' now (like warm raw meat). On the plus side, nobody has to smell it. But having my wisdom removed is new weird experience for me. For some reason Theo loves the smell of my mouth. hahaha Perfect brekkie for the day after parting ways with my wisdom teeth. Mmmm roasted vegies and chicken puree. The roasted veg was pureed as was the chicken and stuffing. (nothing will stop me eating chicken, lol, even if it was a little dry). Mauled my way through a fish bite... took all of 15 minutes. What's better than a cheery bunch of flowers? A cheery bunch of mini daffodils which can be planted in the garden to come up year after year! Thanks Catherine! A week later: I consider it quite an achievement to be able to eat a banana in only ten minutes (unlike the 15 it took yesterday). I guess I deserved this kind of week as a punishment for taking 4 days off last week. (but even so, can't wait for it to be over)

Of Red Books, Inflatable Kayaks and Flying Tractors.

I cast my eyes about the room, everything in it's place -just the same as always. Something had to change. I thought I would go look for a new place to rent. I turned and locked the door behind me but on second thoughts, trotted down to the library instead.

Once inside I found it more like a cavernous old museum with soft lighting, and rich textile covers on displays of books. Something caught my eye -in each grouping of books (on topics like: physics, geography, quilting, art etc) there were one or two plain red volumes which struck me for their plainess. No sooner had I but gingerly fingered them than their whole contents had flipped out and toppled, Jonny5-esque,
into my brain. As it turned out these unassuming texts were the key to each topic. One had only to read them to gain a fine-and-dandy working knowledge of all things pertaining thereto (much like a less touted version of the "for Dummies" series).

After slaking my thirst at the knowledge pool, I thought it high time to get on my way. I wandered down the main street of somewhere checking out the "to lets" in the agent's windows. I chanced a glance back over my right shoulder at precisely the moment a beach ball came bounding from the roof of a multi-storied appartment complex in appearance a verdant air traffic control tower. I shaded my eyes to see, and no, they didn't deceive me for there, indeed, was not just Simon Barnett, but the whole MoreFM crew, banners, flags and loud hailers at the ready. Something was going on, I had to find out what.

To kindle my jealousy, the guy who managed to catch the wayward ball announced that he was going there to claim his prize which was an inflatable kayak. UNfair -that thing almost knocked me down and what do I get for my fright? They were drumming up a crowd and were more than pleased to see me there. Turns out they would give me a spot prize if I joined a game of leap-frog. But as it was "televised" live and I would have to submit myself to being judged, olympic style, I vehemently declined.

All was not lost. They gave me another mission instead. To deliver a baby girl. All I had to do was ascend the grassy slope (on the outside of this circular building -corkscrew fashion) in a clockwise direction until I reached the top. Simple. I set off but was greatly impeded by some hefty great cracks in the clay substrate; some spanning a good half foot or so. Imperial foot that is. 'Just wait til I tell J.E. about these cracks in the "lawn"' I thought.

I finally reached the top and flaked in the doorway. There to greet me was, bizarrely, my old pastor and his family and, last I heard, they were in Seattle. So there I was lying on the baked grass and what should happen to crawl out of my baby backpack but David's cat, Smudge. Oh the baby was still in there too, and no worse for the wear either.

Feeling much refreshed, I peered over the balcony
look down and see the flying machines
something is not right
spies are all around
amorphous paua shell blob that glows then tuns into a blue bowl

I'm totally in awe of people who can make the Theremin sound not only decent, but great! http://www.ted.com/talks/pamelia_kurstin_plays_the_theremin.html

After purchasing a miso today, I arrived back at work to discover I had someone else's credit card in my pocket (not my own eftpos card). In the shop I'd checked my receipt as I always do but as the card felt as beat up as mine I didn't even think to check. Only ten minutes later I was happily reunited with my nine-year-old buddy.

When the Old Folks Roll is Called...

I sauntered past the old folks van shortly after it pulled up to the gardens and as the old folks dribbled out I heard an old man whistling. I made my heart glad to hear someone whistling. Then I thought "I know that tune"... When the roll is called up yonder I'll be there. Maybe they were having their names ticked off on a list?

That feeling

When you just HAVE to pee but you remember that the water is "off" so first you have to find a large clean container (and no, you can't just rinse out a dirty container with water first because that would defeat the purpose)and run downstairs to fill it with the remnant of water in the pipes unlocked by gravity. Then the sound of running water. RUNNING water! What!? The water came back on and you didn't know! Haha. And now you have to race back upstairs to make it in time. All that precious time wasted looking for a suitable vessel when you could've been going.

And to top it all off you then decide to write about the whole experience on your pitiful excuse for a blog that no one will bother to read anyway. Which, in hindsight, is probably better for them anyway. But it only wasted 5 mins of your time so you still have to go vegetable hunting anyway. Anyway.

My filler word of choice today has been: Anyway. (closely followed by "just")

Ok... I'm going off to tackle the vegies now... Wish me luck.

Dreaming in a four-part miniseries

That's right. If you follow these steps for a bizarre dream... or two or three or four! You might just end up in your very own mini-series like I did last night.

Step 1. Go to bed late (so that you'll be tired and go into a deep sleep quickly)

Step 2. Drink two glasses of water (or at least make sure your bladder is full-ish. This is to wake you up {hopefully!} before you've finished the dream -so you can still remember it.)

Step 3. Snack on something high in tryptophan (A Thought From My Head: Cheese Dreams). This is a spethial ingredient and people who eat food high in tryptophan yield a higher dream recollection rate and more vivid dreams. It's found in highest concentration in: Egg White, Spirulina, Atlantic Cod, Raw soybeans, Parmesan Cheese, Caribou, Sesame Seeds, Cheddar Cheese, Sunflower Seeds, Pork Chops, Turkey, Chicken, Beef, Salmon, Lamb Chop, Atlantic Perch, Eggs, Wheat Flour, Milk, White Rice, Russet Potatoes, and Bananas.

Yay! Go for it!

They say that your dreams are influenced but real life worries but I don't see the conection with what I got...

I started of with receiving a phone call to go on a special mission involving invisible spacecrafts hovering in downtown, Richard the 1. king of England, midwives disguised as sheepdogs, ships cutting the sea, assasins assasinating assasins of other assasins' assasins (I know, weird, right?), an empty sushi platter floating in a tank of ice water and running a shortcut through a dilapidated medical library at the airport to catch up with some friends (plus a WHOLE bunch of other stuff like catching miniature people in the fluffy recesses of the roof).

There were lots of blowing-ups and fast-paced action -it was all rather exciting.

And it ended with me sitting on the steps of the museum with another girl who made a phone call and the voice on the receiving end was none other than ME -in the past.

Mantid Terror...

I snapped this giant preying-mantis stalking our street.





Nah, just kidding.

Blue People

When I stumbled across this article on the Blue Fugates of Troublesome Creek, Kentucky I just had to keep reading... So what if it was written in 1982?

Click the title for the link :-) I've quoted the more interesting bits...

In summary (if you can't be bothered to go read the whole article -which you should) it's the story of an Appalachian malady, an inquisitive doctor, and a paradoxical cure.

I'd heard about people who turn blue. They had argyria, a known complication of chronic use of colloidal silver, but this was something different, something genetic -and that intrigued me more.

It started with a baby boy, Benjamin Stacy.
"Six generations after a French orphan named Martin Fugate settled on the banks of eastern Kentucky's Troublesome Creek with his redheaded American bride, his great-great-great-great-grandson was born in a modern hospital not far from where the creek still runs."

Born with "dark blue skin "It was almost purple,"

"raced by ambulance from the maternity ward... to a medical clinic... Two days of tests produced no explanation for skin the color of a bruised plum."

"A transfusion was being prepared when Benjamin's grandmother spoke up. "Have you ever heard of the blue Fugates of Troublesome Creek?" she asked the doctors. "

""My grandmother Luna on my dad's side was a blue Fugate. It was real bad in her," Alva Stacy, the boy's father, explained. "The doctors finally came to the conclusion that Benjamin's color was due to blood inherited from generations back." "

Benjamin lost his blue tint within a few weeks... His lips and fingernails still turn a shade of purple-blue when he gets cold or angry a quirk that so intrigued medical students after Benjamin's birth that they would crowd around the baby and try to make him cry...Dark blue lips and fingernails are the only traces of Martin Fugate's legacy left in the boy; that, and the recessive gene that has shaded many of the Fugates and their kin blue for the past 162 years.

They're known simply as the "blue people" in the hills and hollows around Troublesome and Ball Creeks. Most lived to their 80s and 90s without serious illness associated with the skin discoloration. For some, though, there was a pain not seen in lab tests. That was the pain of being blue in a world that is mostly shades of white to black."

"There was always speculation in the hollows about what made the blue people blue: heart disease, a lung disorder, the possibility proposed by one old-timer that "their blood is just a little closer to their skin." But no one knew for sure, and doctors rarely paid visits to the remote creekside settlements where most of the "blue Fugates " lived until well into the 1950s... Martin Fugate's descendants had multiplied their recessive genes all over the Cumberland Plateau."

About one patient who walked in...
"She had been out in the cold and she was just blue! Her face and her fingernails were almost indigo blue. It like to scared me to death! She looked like she was having a heart attack. I just knew that patient was going to die right there in the health department, but she wasn't a'tall alarmed. She told me that her family was the blue Combses who lived up on Ball Creek. She was a sister to one of the Fugate women."

"Trudging up and down the hollows, fending off "the two mean dogs that everyone had in their front yard," the doctor and the nurse would spot someone at the top of a hill who looked blue and take off in wild pursuit. By the time they'd get to the top, the person would be gone. Finally... Patrick and Rachel Ritchie walked in."

"After concluding that there was no evidence of heart disease... we began to chart the family."

"Cawein remembers the pain that showed on the Ritchie brother's and sister's faces. "They were really embarrassed about being blue. You could tell how much it bothered them to be blue." "

"...the doctor suspected methemoglobinemia, a rare hereditary blood disorder that results from excess levels of methemoglobin in the blood. Methemoglobin which is blue, is a nonfunctional form of the red hemoglobin that carries oxygen. It is the color of oxygen-depleted blood seen in the blue veins just below the skin."

"...drew "lots of blood" from the Ritchies and hurried back to his lab. He tested first for abnormal hemoglobin, but the results were negative. Stumped... He found references to methemoglobinemia dating to the turn of the century"

"...discovered hereditary methemoglobinemia among Alaskan Eskimos and Indians... caused... by an absence of the enzyme diaphorase from their red blood cells. In normal people hemoglobin is converted to methemoglobin at a very slow rate. If this conversion continued, all the body's hemoglobin would eventually be rendered useless. Normally diaphorase converts methemoglobin back to hemoglobin...

"... concluded that the condition was inherited as a simple recessive trait... a person would have to inherit two genes for it, one from each parent. Somebody with only one gene would not have the condition but could pass the gene to a child... it would appear most often in an inbred line."

"Cawein needed fresh blood to do an enzyme assay. He had to drive eight hours to search out the Ritchies, who lived in a tapped-out mining town... They took the doctor to see their uncle, who was blue, too. Zach took the doctor even farther up Copperhead Hollow to see his Aunt Bessie Fugate, who was blue. Bessie had an iron pot of clothes boiling in her front yard, but she graciously allowed the doctor to draw some of her blood."

"...they didn't have the enzyme diaphorase. I looked at other enzymes and nothing was wrong with them. So I knew we had the defect defined.'"

"Just like the Alaskans, their blood had accumulated so much of the blue molecule that it over-whelmed the red of normal hcmoglobin that shows through as pink in the skin of most Caucasians."

"...methyleneblue sprang to mind as the "perfectly obvious" antidote. Some of the blue people thought the doctor was slightly addled for suggesting that a blue dye could turn them pink. But Cawein knew from earlier studies that the body has an alternative method of converting methemoglobin back to normal. Activating it requires adding to the blood a substance that acts as an "electron donor." Many substances do this, but Cawein chose methylene blue because it had been used successfully and safely in other cases and because it acts quickly."

"... and injected each of them with 100 milligrams of methylene blue."

"'Within a few minutes. the blue color was gone from their skin... For the first time in their lives, they were pink. They were delighted." "

"...each blue family a supply of methylene blue tablets to take as a daily pill. The drug's effects are temporary, as methylene blue is normally excreted in the urine."


Here's how it all started...

"the long and twisted journey of Martin Fugate's recessive gene. From a history of Perry County and some Fugate family Bibles listing ancestors, Cawein has constructed a fairly complete story."

"Martin Fugate was a French orphan who emigrated to Kentucky in 1820 to claim a land grant on the wilderness banks of Troublesome Creek... family lore has it that Martin himself was blue."

"...Martin Fugate managed to find and marry a woman who carried the same recessive gene. Elizabeth Smith, apparently, was as pale-skinned as the mountain laurel... began a family. Of their seven children, four were reported to be blue."

"The clan kept multiplying. Fugates married other Fugates. Sometimes they married first cousins. And they married the people who lived closest to them, the Combses, Smiths, Ritchies, and Stacys. All lived in isolation from the world, bunched in log cabins up and down the hollows, and so it was only natural that a boy married the girl next door, even if she had the same last name."

""When they settled this country back then, there was no roads. It was hard to get out, so they intermarried," says Dennis Stacy, "If you'll notice..."I'm kin to myself." "

"The railroad didn't come through eastern Kentucky until the coal mines were developed around 1912, and it took another 30 or 40 years to lay down roads along the local creeks."

"Martin and Elizabeth Fugate's blue children multiplied in this natural isolation tank. The marriage of one of their blue boys, Zachariah, to his mother's sister triggered the line of succession that would result in the birth, more than 100 years later, of Benjamin Stacy."

"...the blue Fugates started moving out of their communities and marrying other people. The strain of inherited blue began to disappear as the recessive gene spread to families where it was unlikely to be paired with a similar gene."

"Benjamin Stacy is one of the last of the blue Fugates. Because the boy was intensely blue at birth but then recovered his normal skin tones, Benjamin is assumed to have inherlted only one gene for the condition."

Movies to see...

These are some of the movies I would like to see sometime...

Alive:
They survived the impossible...by doing the unthinkable.
Uruguayan rugby team stranded in the snow swept Andes are forced to use desperate measures to survive after a plane crash.

Train de vie:
It's a comedy, it's a fantasy, it's a musical, it's a drama, it's a romance, it's an allegory and, yes, it's a tragedy.
In 1941, the inhabitants of a small Jewish village in Central Europe organize a fake deportation train so that they can escape the Nazis and flee to Palestine.

"Le battement d'ailes du papillon" aka "Happenstance" aka "The Beating of a Butterfly's Wings":
Chance, chaos, destiny, fusion, liaisons.
How, thanks to what's known as the "Butterfly theory" (a random series of unlinked events), can a young woman and a young man meet?

The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada:
Nobody is beyond redemption.
Ranch hand Pete Perkins looks to fulfill the promise to his recently deceased best friend by burying him in his hometown in Mexico.

Up:
By tying thousands of balloon to his home, 78-year-old Carl Fredricksen sets out to fulfill his lifelong dream to see the wilds of South America. Right after lifting off, however, he learns he isn't alone on his journey, since Russell, a wilderness explorer 70 years his junior, has inadvertently become a stowaway on the trip.

Waiting for Trains:
The last memories of an American man facing execution at the hands of his own countrymen. Set amid a fictional civil war in North America.

One Bizarre Day

Never to be repeated. Even if I wanted it to.

Starting at 12am when I realised the buses might not be back to their normal schedule and had to check on Maxx. Then wandered through to the kitchen and saw the pile of tomato leaves I was going to turn into a batch of deadly aphidicide and promptly chopped and steeped them.

Then there was the cockroach incident mentioned in the previous post. Uuggh, I'll leave it at that.

Trust me to turn up to work by accident. So apparently I had got the day off (I had asked for it months ago, I might add, but I thought it hadn't been approved). There wasn't any work for me to do anyway so I just walked out again. (I think eveyone had a good laugh at my expense, oh well :-) And THAT was my easiest first day back at work ever!

Walked the "beach" way back to a suitable bus stop and passed by the ASB tennis court. There was security out and about and everything. Then I noticed the video rig, TVNZ sports presenter and a couple of people each decked out in a tennis uniform and accompanied by a raquet (I suppose, in retrospect, they may have been famous international tennis stars).

Got lured in to the Tai Ping Trading Co. and came away with: Durian wafers, seaweed peanut crackers, coconut jam and hot & spicy banana sauce. What can I say? It sounded interesting and I'm always willing to try new food.

Passed by the "Texan Art School" shop in downtown mall and couldn't resist a peek. I love pretty much everything therein; all the native birds and flowers. A bit pricey tho.

Too early to continue on the bus to Long Bay as planned so stopped in at home for an hour or so. Then didn't want to fork out for yet more bus fares just to go "round the corner" so I took a brisk walk in the fresh air. Then it came over all sunny and you know what they say about mad dogs and Englishmen? Well, I must be one of 'em. But I think I cooked my brain.

The party gathering under the trees was lovely [and I will just say here how much I love just getting together with a small bunch of people and spending time together -pity we have to wait til birthdays, although there are plenty of them it seems] but I seemed to get more and more heat-affected as the afternoon wore on, even tho. I chuggdback 3 bottles of water and tried to stay in shade as much as poss. (except for a quick walk up and down the beach -what can I say? I love walking and can't pass up an opportunity).

I stumbled inside and flaked on my bed with the doors open (creating the all important "through-flow-of-air"), my eye mask and yet more water and promptly fell asleep. Then awoke with a start remembering I'd left something cooking on the stove... Man, that could've been bad, instead I peered outside and was the parent's car in the drive and thought "Phew! they can deal with it". (It was for them anyway, I hasten to add). Next thing I know and Davs is doing his ducky dance on my roof to summon me for tea.

But no, the day was not yet over. I made up the anti-aphid spray and gave it a whirl. Mwahaha. And at ten-something pm I finally finished sewing up the skirt I'd been working on. Oh what a beautiful feeling.

Cockroach Attack

Was attacked by a cockroach at 0111 this morning...

Ok, so it only crawled across my face in bed... but still, Eewwww... AND I swiped it away before realising what I'd done Eewwwwwer! (Sarah, do you realise you just touched something the size, shape and clingingity of a cockroach? Yes!... on flicked the light, stopping it in it's dirty little tracks).

Yeah, it got the death treatment.

Christmas Crumble Slice

I made up this recipe after purchasing some festive ingredients on sale at this time of year and then realised I didn't actually have a use for them. It's kind of a cross between Christmas cake and fruit-mince pies... Enjoy. Makes enough to fill two slice trays (would also work in a large, rectangle roasting tray). PLEASE read the whole recipe first.



Combination and Assembly:
(about now a normal recipe will tell you to set your oven to Bake @ 180*C but I say "don't do that just yet unless you want to waste power". Good things take time you know and it is worth keeping the distribution of goodies roughly equidistant)

1. Line tin(s) with baking paper.

2. Whip up some tasty fruit-mince:
Butter
Brown sugar
1 Cup mixed dried friut
2 tsp mixed spice (homemade freshly ground is the best ;-)
1/2 tsp nutmeg
Lemon juice

Plonk some Butter and brown sugar in a saucepan on medium-low, dump in about a cup of mixed dried friut and stir to coat. Scatter in mixed spice & nutmeg. Stir then squirt in ~a Tbsp or two of lemon juice. Keep on low until friut softens.


3. Make Shortcake Base
125g Butter
1/2 Cup Castor Sugar
1 Egg
1 1/2 Cups Flour
2 Tbsp Custard Powder
1 tsp Baking Powder

Cream butter and sugar. Add egg and mix well. Add sifted dry ingredients. Mix together until forming a soft dough. Press into base of tin(s) until evenly covering the bottom.


Innards
300g Marzipan
150g (1 packet) Glace red cherries (halved)
175(?)g Dark Chocolate (1Pk Cadbury Old Gold 70% Cocoa, minus 2 rows). Cut each square in half.
1 Cup Friut Mince (easy to make your own! Remember step 2?)

4. Roll out marzipan and trim into appropriately sized rectangle(s). Making sure the rolling pin and surface are dusted with icing sugar. Reserve the trimmings (tear into little pieces)

5. Place marzipan in tray on top of the base.







6. Now turn your oven to Bake @ 180*C

7. Arrange Cherries

8. Place chocolate pieces between cherries.

9. Dollop on tsp-fulls of fruit-mince.

10. Spinkle left-over marzipan evenly.

11. Finally sprinkle on the Crumble Topping
1/2 Cup Soft brown sugar
1/2 Cup Icing sugar
1/2 Cup Quick cook porridge oats
1/2 Cup Flour
Chunk of Butter (50-100g should do)
Vanilla of some description (I used 1/2 tsp of Vanilla bean paste =extra moreish)


Melt Butter in the same pot you used to make the fruit-mince and pick up all the
extra yummy flavour. In another bowl combine sugars, oats and flour. Add vanilla to the melted butter and pour into the dry ingredients. Mix to combine. Sprinkle away!
(Just you try and resist eating this raw. Tehehe
Bake for 20 minutes.

Share your experience of this recipe?