A FEW PORKIES!

Presently a delicious-looking piece of shoulder pork sits patiently in my refrigerator defrosting in readiness for roasting, and impatiently, I sit here drooling over the thought of its end outcome.

My appetite already whetted and tormented, I have a desperate desire to share my torment with you.

Every time I open my fridge door I'm confronted by the glorious piece of meat sitting there tempting and tormenting me, waiting to be altered to a culinary delight! Perhaps I should stop opening my fridge door so I don't succumb too early to its blatant enticement. Like a seductive siren, it beckons me forth! I can’t wait to get my teeth around its crisp, golden crackling!

It's constant presence reminds me of a particular episode when I was living on Newry Island, north-east of Mackay. Upon taking over the island (I sound like a pirate, don't I?)I discovered a couple of very large legs of pork, together with some frozen, cooked mud crabs in the freezer. Not knowing how long they'd been in the freezer, and not willing to take a chance on their longevity, I decided to discard them.

Not one to litter, I pondered the situation over a chilled beer as I decided their fate. Digging a monstrous hole was one option. Another was to throw them into the ocean. Adopting the latter option, with the sun departing the western sky, I tossed the frozen consignment into the bay, knowing they’d eventually be carried out to sea where they'd become fodder for the abundant sea creatures. Earth to earth, dust to dust, food to the fishes of the great blue yonder!

Ignorantly, I discounted the fact that the first incoming tide during the night would return my bountiful donation to shore!

Early next morning, I heard the sound of a boat motor. Rushing down the beach to greet my unexpected visitors, with a group of island guests hot pursuit, you can imagine my panic and embarrassment when I spotted, gaily bobbing up and down on the gently rippling waves in front of me the errant legs of pork and bright orange, cooked mud crabs!

As I jumped about waist-deep in water with a pole in one hand trying to hold down the rampant crustaceans and pork and my other arm flailing in a frantic attempt to drown the returned reprobates out of the way of prying, inquisitive eyes, a little boy yelled out excitedly;

“Look Mum! Mud crabs! Lots and lots of mud crabs!”

“Yeah,” I replied, dementedly. “I’m lucky. They come already cooked here!”


Balsamic Roast Pork:

Preheat oven 180C; season 1.5kg boneless pork loin with freshly ground black pepper. Heat a large pan to smoking point; add meat; seal on all sides for 3-4mins until golden brown. Transfer to roasting dish. In pan, melt 50g unsalted butter; add 2 red onions, cut into 8 wedges and 15g fresh, chopped rosemary. Sauté for 5mins until onion has softened. Tip into the roasting tin; pour over 125ml balsamic vinegar. Make sure the pork is well coated. Place in oven; cook for 40-45mins, stirring onions occasionally and basting the pork. 40mins before pork is ready add 6 small green apples, halved and pour over another 125ml balsamic vinegar. When apples are tender and pork is cooked, remove pork from roasting tin; allow to stand 10mins before carving. Place apples in serving dish; cover and keep warm until read to serve. Stir some dry white wine into roasting juices; simmer 3-4mins over medium heat. Serve with pork and apples.

Roast Pork Loin with Horseradish Crust:

Preheat oven 220C. In heavy skillet, cook 1c fresh breadcrumbs in 1tbl olive oil, salt and pepper over medium heat until golden. Transfer bread crumbs to a bowl; toss well with 2tbls bottled horseradish. Pat 2kg piece boneless loin pork dry; season with salt and pepper. In skillet heat 1tbl oil over moderately high heat until hot, but not smoking; brown pork on all sides, about 5 minutes. Transfer pork to a shallow baking pan. In a small bowl, mix 1.5tbls each Dijon mustard and mayonnaise; coat top and sides of pork evenly with mixture. Press bread crumb mixture evenly onto mustard; roast pork in middle of oven 25-30mins (if bread crumbs begin to get too browned, arrange a sheet of foil loosely over pork). Transfer pork to a cutting board; let stand 5 minutes.

Lemon Pork Scallopini:

Brush 2 pork scallopini on both sides with 1/4c Italian dressing; season with lemon pepper; set aside. Mix together 1/3c each plain flour and grated Parmesan cheese on shallow plate. Coat pork generously; shake off excess. Heat 1-2tbls butter and a dash or two of lemon juice in large non-stick skillet over medium-high heat. Quickly cook scallopini, about 3 minutes per side. Serve with garlic mashed potatoes, buttered broccoli spears, sliced tomatoes with blue cheese vinaigrette.

FEAR AND LOATHING ON HINCHINBROOK ISLAND!

Living and working on an island paradise was a dream come true. After taking care of the daily whims and requirements of the resort guests (and my staff), I’d escape to my haven, my little house positioned at the end of the track leading up to Cape Richards on Hinchinbrook Island. Without lifting my head off my pillows, each morning I woke to commanding views of the ocean and islands beyond. My house, distanced from the guest accommodation, the restaurant and staff quarters, offered well-earned privacy at the end of my days; days that commenced as the sun made its first dazzling bow on dawn's horizon. Regularly, the curtains drew towards a close on my nights around midnight, and many, many times much later.

At the start of the track leading to my home, hidden amongst trees, stood a cabin that housed the resort’s chief maintenance man, Ted. A “man’s man”, Ted was a 'true-blue' Aussie bloke. He was a man of few words. I was a woman, and his boss, and because of that I knew, from the beginning of our working relationship that subtlety would be required if I wanted to gain his trust, respect and loyalty. I never questioned Ted regarding his duties. I had total faith in his abilities. At the end of his working day, I’d make a point of sharing a beer with him. It was my secret plan to gain his trust. Over a chilled can or two, our conversations covered all subjects, but I never pointedly asked him questions about his job. Eventually, Ted relaxed and opened up freely. I learned what was happening out in the 'field' without being his “boss”. I was the first, and probably the last, woman for whom he has worked. We gained a mutual respect of each other, and of the individual roles we played in the successful operation of the resort.

Early mornings before my staff and guests stirred, the resort office demanded my undivided attention. Daily rosters, sea plane and boat arrivals, orders, bookings and general clerical duties commandeered my time. My daily “uniform” of casual attire, comprising Jamaican shorts or long t-shirts ensured comfort and coolness in the tropical heat. Every afternoon around 5pm, I went to my dwelling for a refreshing shower, before changing into 'smart casual wear” for the evening. My evenings were spent mingling with, and enjoying the company of the island’s guests. I treated my guests as if they were dinner guests in my home. Many interesting, fascinating people from various walks of life, and from all parts of the world holidayed at Hinchinbrook Island Resort.

One busy Sunday I was unable to escape the resort during the day. Sales/Marketing representatives from the now defunct Ansett Airlines, a national airline arrived by seaplane that afternoon to conduct a familiarization of the resort, visits that were regular procedures by airlines or tourist operators to enable an assessment of the resort and what it had to offer to the potential clients.

Exhausted after a busy week, I felt I’d talked enough, smiled enough to last me two lifetimes. I wanted to become a hermit, even if only for one night. Rarely, if ever, did I take time-out for myself. Because the airline representatives were staying for two days and nights, I excused myself from dining with them the first evening of their visit. With fingers crossed, and a white lie formed, I confessed that I had "paperwork to catch up on”, promising I’d dine with them the following evening. Finally, I fled the madding crowd and the restaurant at 7.30 pm, returning to my abode for the first time since early morning.

Relieved and weary, I climbed the spiral staircase to my open-plan bedroom. Without turning on the lights, I discarded my clothes before reaching to turn on the television. I'd not watched television for months. Reaching to switch on a wall light next to the television set from the corner of my eye I noticed movement on my bed. I turned and discovered "George", the 18-foot long python that had been named by my staff! I’d never set eyes on "George" before that night, although I’d been told many stories about him. To say I wasn't thrilled to meet him up, close and personal, is an understatement! He definitely was the wrong “George” to find lounging on my bed! (Where’s Clooney when you need him)?


I froze,unable to move or think. Blasphemous words and worse (but appropriate) issued rapidly from my mouth.

In shock, I stumbled about looking for the clothes only moments before I’d abandoned! Locating a long t-shirt, I grabbed "Ruska", my twelve-year old ginger cat. He was a house cat, rarely wandering outside other than for his daily ablutions. I placed Ruska into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I then rushed down the spiral staircase, my feet barely touching the stairs!

I scrambled along the rough track to Ted's cabin, calling out in a strangled voice, “Ted! Ted! Snake! Snake!”

Ted appeared, laughing, an affliction that continued all the way to my house. I followed up the rear scolding (and cursing), telling him it wasn't funny.

“George” in all his massive glory was still squirming and slithering over my bed when we arrived!

Gripping a broom, I was ready for combat! Ted’s enjoyment continued unabated.

"Get the camera! Get the camera!" Ted spluttered.

Using all the descriptive language I could muster, I informed him the @#*#$@# camera was in my @#*#$@# office over at the @#*#$@# restaurant, (you get the general idea of the state of my mood, I'm sure) and that there was no way I was leaving while “George” insisted on being my house guest - an uninvited, unwanted house guest!

Our lively exchange continued for minutes that seemed like hours; me, shouting at Ted, and Ted laughing hilariously at my panic and distress. As “George” tried to slide under my bed, my shouts became more frantic and much louder.

Eventually, Ted grabbed "George". Manhandling the monstrous reptile, Ted flung it off my deck to the bushes and rocks below. I looked on, a trembling mess.

Weeks later, I spent a night on the mainland. Returning to the island the following day, Ruska was missing. Broken- hearted, I never saw Ruska again. To this day, lovingly he remains in my thoughts.

The mistake we made was not transporting "George" by boat to another side of the island, far, far away. A lesson well-learned; a lesson I wish I'd never had to learn. Everything appears easier and clearer in retrospect.

If I've told this story before, please forgive me...you've probably forgotten it, anyway! Just a refresher!


Painting by me of Orchid Beach on Hinchinbrook Island...the main beach of the resort at Cape Richards.

WIPE THOSE TEARS FROM YOUR EYES!

Other than stubbing a toe, slamming a door on a finger or peeling onions, there are many things that cause a monsoon to emanate from my eyes! A song; a sad movie; a happy movie; a book; animal documentaries; man’s inhumanity to man; man’s inhumanity to animals: the soaring voice of Pavarotti; a beautiful sunset or sunrise; some trips down memory lane; an unexpected kindness; insensitive remarks; anger; frustrating people; inspirational people and moments. The list goes on and on - at this rate, it sounds like I’m crying all the time! There's never a drought around here!

Of course, movies such as “Out of Africa”, “The Way We Were”, “Message in a Bottle”, “P.S. I Love You” and “The Notebook” (also, the endings of “Breakfast At Tiffany’s” and “Roman Holiday”, naturally; both I’ve seen a million times), for instance, cause an avalanche of tears - no light precipitation there; more like the “wet season”!

With clarity, I remember the first time I watched “Imitation of Life” starring Lana Turner, Sandra Dee and Susan Kohner. The year was 1959. Mum took me along to see it one Tuesday night…a school night. Once my tears began to flow, they couldn’t be dammed. (It was I who was damned!) It was such a sad, sad movie! Walking home, I cried all the way, still distressed! I think that was the last time my mother took me along with her to see a movie! She wasn’t game to attempt it again! I’m sure you, like me, have slunk out of the movies desperately trying to hide red, swollen eyes! Unfortunately, I viewed both “Beaches” and “The Horse Whisperer” at afternoon matinees!! I’ll never fall into that trap again! Hang on! I did! Back in September, I went along to a morning matinee to view “Mao’s Last Dancer”. All was going well until a scene in which his parents arrived to watch him perform with the Houston Ballet Company! That moment was enough to open my floodgates!

My Nana, who was a gentle, calm lady of Scottish heritage always said: “We, in this family pee out of our eyes!” Oh! Dear! I fear that is true…in my case, anyway!

Watching Olympic skaters Evgeni Plushenko and Evan Lysacek perform their stunning routines in the men’s figure skating definitely left me misty-eyed and in awe. Their performances made me speechless (something that doesn’t happen often even though I live alone – I do talk to myself – often (and answer) – and to my two furry rascals equally as often – and they answer me as well…so it’s a pretty gabby household on all accounts, but you know what I mean!

Plushenko performed to “Concierto de Aranjuez” by Spanish composer, Joaquin Rodrigo. This concerto alone causes me goose-bumps whenever I listen to it. It’s been a favourite of mine for many, many years.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w8LL1x6J2rU&feature=related

Where was I? Oh, yes…tears. Back to onions…wipe those tears from your eyes…use a very sharp knife for chopping onions, peel under water (the onions, not you), or store onions in the crisper – that works in stopping the flow of tears - or have someone else chop them!

Onion & Artichoke Salad:

3 red (Spanish) onions, finely-sliced
75g (1/3rd cup) caster sugar
1/3 cup red wine vinegar
400g can artichoke hearts in brine, drained and quartered

Place onions in a bowl, cover with boiling water and stand 10 minutes. Drain, rinse under cold water and drain on absorbent paper.

Combine sugar, vinegar, 1 teaspoon salt and cracked black pepper to taste in a bowl. Stir to dissolve sugar. Add drained onions. Stir to combine and stand for at least 2 hours. Stir in artichoke quarters, cover and refrigerate until ready to serve.

Beef with Onions (Chinese Cuisine):

500g (1lb) round, blade or skirt steak
½ teaspoon bicarb soda
3 tablespoons hot water
3 teaspoons cornflour
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon Chinese wine or dry sherry
1 egg white
2 large onions
Peanut oil
2 tablespoons beef stock

Freeze meat until just firm enough to cut into thin slices; cut slices into strips about 1cm (1/2 inch) wide and 4cm (1.5 inches) long; put into a bowl. Dissolve bicarb soda in hot water; pour over meat; knead or beat with chopsticks or fork until meat absorbs the liquid. Leave overnight or at least 4 hours.

Combine the cornflour, soy sauce, wine or sherry; lightly beat egg shit and mix in well. Quarter the onions; cut into quarters crosswise into halves; separate the layers.

When needed, drain the beef strips; add to the cornflour mixture; stir well. Meanwhile, heat enough oil in wok or pan to deep fry the beef. Add the beef strips, a few at a time; fry for 1 minute, remove; drain. Pour oil from pan, leaving about 2 tablespoons. Add the onions; stir-fry until tender, but still crisp. Add the beef strips; fry, stirring for another minute. Stir in stock; cook, stirring for another half minute. Serve with rice – or noodles.

Stuffed Onions: (Or Stuff the Onions)!

4 medium onions; peeled
2 tablespoons honey
1/2 cup finely-chopped walnuts
½ cup wheat germ or bread crumbs
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
1/4 cup chopped Italian parsley for garnish

Preheat oven to 176C (350F). Slice about a half inch off the top of each onion. Hollow out a bowl shaped space to hold about 1/4 cup filling. Slice enough off the bottom to let onions stand upright. Combine remaining ingredients, except parsley. Place about 1/3 cup of water around onions. Bake 30 minutes, adding water, 1/4 cup at a time if needed. Stuff onions. Bake another 30 minutes or until softened. Garnish with parsley Serve warm.

TO DREAM THE IMPOSSIBLE DREAM…

The other day when being busy at not being busy while busily reading a book, at my leisure I worked out that I probably read, watch, hear and catch glimpses of the world’s news on a daily average of four hours! It would be similar for many of us, I suppose. Every which way we look, we’re inundated with news – the good, the bad and the ugly - and there’s far too much of the latter two!

However, amongst all the mayhem and horrors are the positive, inspirational stories inordinately abounding with goodness, bravery and empathy. Individuals reaching for the stars, fulfilling their dreams, win or lose; some pushing themselves beyond the point of human endurance. Unselfish actions and random acts of kindness touch our hearts, often making us question our own values in life.

Unique individuals like Moira Kelly of the Children’s First Foundation whose unfaltering love and support of separated conjoined twins, Krishna and Trishna, together with the work she’s done elsewhere through the years is humbling to a mere mortal such as me. The powerful team at Melbourne’s Royal Children’s Hospital led by neurosurgeon, Wirginia Maixner, are the real “celebrities” of this world in which we flounder.

And let’s not overlook our young competitors in the Winter Olympics being held at Vancouver – Brittney Cox, the 15 year old mogul skier; 15 year old snowboarder Scott James and 16 year old figure skater Cheltzie Lee. Sure, it would be nice if they won a medal, but what’s more important is their dedication in following their dreams.

Let none of us forget our warrior of the high seas, Jessica Watson, either. This brave, adventurous young woman is attempting something that is beyond the imagination of the majority. I follow her blog, and each day I’m inspired by this 16 year old. She is an extraordinary young lady. We should all be proud of her. Get behind her; barrack loudly! When many of her peers are out binge drinking, causing harm and havoc, not only to others, but to themselves, as well, Jessica is proof the future is in good hands!

It's so easy to become weighed down by the heavy burdens the world thrusts upon us. Also, it's easy to become cynical, if we allow ourselves to be. We must train ourselves to look beyond all the evil-doers, and open our hearts and minds to those inspirational people who each moment of each day selflessly give themselves to the betterment of others.

We should learn to give praise where and when praise is due. We should not allow ourselves to fall into traps filled with derision and harsh criticisms.

Unfortunately, many find the latter easier to do than the former!

P.S. Sketch done by me a couple of years ago.

THOSE WERE THE DAYS, MY FRIENDS! (Recipe included)

Most of us hold onto fond memories of the towns in which we spent our tender years.

My late brother and I were raised in Gympie, a regional town a couple of hours north of Brisbane, the capital of Queensland. Times were much simpler when I was a child. In those days of “old” locking one’s house was an unknown; when walking everywhere was the norm, even at night; a time when soapboxes careered freely and wildly down the neighbourhood streets. Gympie is a town known for its hills! Computers were creations only in the imaginations of science fiction writers and movie makers. Reality TV was the spanking new black and white set in front of which one sat glued keenly watching episodes of “Wanted: Dead or Alive” while drooling over Josh Randall played by a deliciously young, sexy Steve McQueen!

After spring rains, my brother, our Nana and I, armed with buckets, often would stroll through town, and then across the river to the Southside to gather dew-covered field mushrooms, always under the disinterested brown-eyed gaze of nonchalant cattle grazing on lush green paddocks fringing the verdant banks of the Mary River.

Frequently, with an empty jam tin converted into a “billy”**, long strands of strong cotton, homemade hand nets and pieces of raw meat, my brother and I headed off to the nearest waterhole to catch “lobbies” aka freshwater crayfish. Eagerly we’d scamper home to cook, and then devour our haul while planning and anticipating our next adventure.

** (For non-Aussies – it’s commonly accepted that the term "billycan" is derived from the large cans used for transporting bully beef on Australia-bound ships in the early days of settlement, or during exploration of the outback, which after use, were modified for boiling water over a fire.
In Australia, the billy has come to symbolise the spirit of exploration of the outback. To boil the billy most often means to make tea. "Billy Tea" is the name of a popular brand of tea long sold in Australian supermarkets. Billies feature in many of well-known poet/writer Henry Lawson's stories and poems. Banjo Paterson's most famous of many references to the billy is in the first verse and chorus of ’Waltzing Matilda’: "And he sang as he watched and waited 'til his billy boiled...")

After school and at weekends our time was filled with many activities. Saturday afternoon matinees that we never missed, Brownies/Girl Guides, Cubs/Scouts, piano lessons, cowboys and Indians in the backyard; my brother and his mates firing arrows at and lynching my dolls on branches of an orange tree; on the sidelines; me, in tears, fruitlessly screaming at them (that’s big brothers for you!); building tree houses and cubby houses, running bare-footed and carefree. Sing-a-longs around the piano; Nana relating tales of the “olden days”; window-shopping on Saturday evenings as we strutted in tune to the Scottish Pipers' Band who proudly wore their melodiously swaying kilts while expertly playing and marching through the main street of Gympie (Mary Street) to the town's Memorial Gates; burning our fingers on hot chips wrapped in newspaper from Nick’s Café; joy at finding that one final crunchy chip hidden in the folds of the paper.

After spending my teenage years enjoying weekends and holidays spent at the sunny Sunshine Coast’s Noosa Heads the bright city lights temptingly beckoned. Succumbing, I left the “nest” a few months shy of my 21st birthday.

Those were the days, my friends!

Let’s sit back and reminiscence under a shady tree while munching on:

Crostini with Stuffed Mushrooms:

Remove stalks from 12 small button mushrooms; chop stalks finely. Set aside with caps.

Heat 60ml (1/4 cup) olive oil in frying pan; sautė 1 medium red onion, chopped finely and 2 crushed garlic cloves, for 5 minutes. Stir in ¾ cup wholemeal breadcrumbs; cook 3 minutes or until crisp. Add 2 tablespoons chopped Italian parsley (flat-leaf), 125g (4oz) finely-sliced prosciutto, ½ cup freshly-grated Parmesan cheese, mushroom stalks, salt and freshly-ground black pepper; mix well.

Spoon some filling into each mushroom cap; drizzle with olive oil; place them in lightly-oiled ovenproof dish. Bake in a preheated 150C (302F) oven for 20 to 30 minutes.

To Make Crostini: using a 2.5cm biscuit cutter, cut out rounds from a sliced loaf of Italian bread. Heat some olive oil in frying pan; fry the bread rounds over low heat until they’re golden on both sides. Set aside on paper towels to drain.

To assemble: spread a little patė (if desired) on each crostini, arrange a stuffed mushroom on top; press down to secure (not too hard, though)! Drizzle with olive oil; serve garnished with Italian parsley.

Enjoy the memories! And the crostini!

REMORSE IS A HEARTLESS, UNREPENTANT PROTAGANIST!

It’s with feelings of immense remorse that I sit here writing this post, but I shall endeavour to forge onwards and upwards…Per ardua ad astra.

My latest love affair commenced on Christmas Day; one that unexpectedly, though pleasantly, continued through the ensuing days and weeks into January. Not often am I so openly expansive about my personal life, but at times it helps to share with others. This is one of those “times”. Utterly beyond my control, I lost my heart to a special character who, with little warning, entered my life; albeit too briefly. Henceforth, however, his presence shall remain long in my memory. For those few precious weeks he shared my life, my bed; almost all of my waking hours and thoughts. With the passing of each day his grip upon my heart grew stronger and stronger until one fateful day in late January his personal “Angel of Death” swooped down, whisking him away to a place unknown.

Like a deluge, a torrent of tears cascaded down my face. My heart wrenched at his loss; at my loss. My days grew dispiritedly long; my nights despairingly longer.

It’s with heart-felt gratitude that I embrace deservedly acclaimed author Colin Dexter for introducing me to the complicated, intriguing machinations of the mind and life of “Chief Inspector Morse”. Of course, like a myriad others, I fell under “Morse’s” spell (expertly portrayed by John Thaw) in the television series, but Dexter’s skilful ability as a dexterous wordsmith and crafty story-teller transports the reader far beyond the realms of television. Now I look around me like a child lost, in a quandary wondering what next I’ll read. Who, pray tell, will be the future plunderer of my heart? There is room enough on my bedside table for another, or Morse…oops…I mean “more”!

My Goodness!

I've just noticed I last posted in 2008!! I'll go and sit in the corner!

Where has the time gone? And have I done anything worthwhile to report? Give me a moment or three while I think about that! I'm sure I have somewhere amongst all thos lost months!

It's still raining here. We received 400mm (16-inches) in an eight-hour period on Saturday. The most rain this area has received since the 1880s! Wow! It came down in bucket loads, large buckets! I don't mind though. I love the rain and I love being snuggled up inside with a good book and my two furry rascally mates! (Of the four-legged variety, of course...as depicted above!

I suggest that you all hop onto Jessica Watson's Blog...the brave 16-year old Aussie lass who is attempting to sail around the world, solo. Brave young lass and I wish her well! http://www.youngestround.blogspot.com/ I know I couldn't do what she doing...I'm not brave enough to even think of doing it!

A BIT OF STILLNESS AMONGST THE EXCITEMENT!

I'm exhausted already and there's still 12 days to go! Yes! I'm referring to the Olympics. Every event I watch, I'm competing along with the competitors! I feel their pride and I applaud their achievements, whether win or lose. The long road they've traveled to get to this point has been a difficult one full of early mornings and endless days of hard training.

To all those fine young people (those who are drug-free),I bow to your determination.

If I was wearing a hat, I would take it off to all those fine competitors.

My absence I'll have to put down to all the training I've been doing - it's taken up a lot of my time lately! Now, you'll have to excuse me while I go back to the parallel bars!

I'm sharing a couple of my paintings with you - I did them between laps of the pool!

A TASTE OF THE GOOD LIFE TO WHET YOUR APPETITE!

I don't know what's going on!!!! My life is full of social engagements at present, either here at my home or elsewhere at the homes of friends - or sitting on sidewalks sipping hot chocolate, lattes or cappuccinos! Life can be so hard at times, but someone's got to do it!

However, I did get time to complete the painting above, commence another together with a drawing, both of which I hope to finish in the not too distant future.

Last weekend was filled with the fun company of a circle of friends. And I didn't escape the throng mid-week or at week's end, either. Blame it on the moon!

Yesterday, I was invited by a local chocolate shop owner to visit her premises to taste-test some new delicacies of the choccie variety to hit her shelves. I ask you - how could I possibly decline such an invitation? While sipping on hot chocolate, I chatted up the artist in residence in the next door gallery and those at surrounding al fresco tables! Needless to say, I had to try many chocolates to come to a definitive decision - ummmm - I'm still not sure! I may have to re-visit and test some more, methinks!

There was a method to the proprietor's reasoning. She wants me to write something about her glorious little oasis in my next food article for the local "rag". A chore that I find is not a chore at all considering the side benefits! I don't mind being on her agenda - would you?

I have a friend visiting overnight, down from the sunny shores of Noosa Heads. We've not caught up for a while and he's been a dear friend for many a good year - and bad!

"Feed the man beef" the saying orders, so dutifully I shall oblige. I've a juicy, tender-looking whole beef rib fillet sitting a-waiting in my fridge for me to do decadently delicious things to it! Forgive me if I set your taste buds a-drooling, but I thought I'd share this recipe with you.

The red wine has been chosen - a couple of bottles of Shiraz - Rosemount and Penfolds - with a couple of back-ups of other vineyards - just in case!

ROAST BEEF STUFFED WITH SPINACH, PINE-NUTS & FETA

Pre-heat oven to 200C. Using sharp knife, butterfly whole piece of beef fillet by cutting nearly all the way through the meat, lengthways, then open it out with several long incisions. Lightly flatten beef. Heat 1 tablespoon olive oil in pan over medium heat. Add 3-4 tablespoons pine-nuts, 3-4 garlic cloves, finely chopped, 1 firmly-packed cup of young spinach leaves and 3-4 shallots, finely chopped. Cook for 2 minutes until the spinach has wilted. Transfer mixture to a chopping board and chop roughly. In a bowl, combine spinach mixture with 100g feta, 2 cups firmly-packed fresh breadcumbs and enough liquid beef stock to just bind the mixture.

Press mixture along one edge of the beef. Roll up beef tightly, encasing the filling; secure, at intervals with kitchen string. Heat a little more oil in pan over high heat; add beef and brown well on all sides. Transfer to a baking dish and roast for 25 minutes for rare, 35 minutes for medium or 45 minutes for well done. Remove from oven, cover with foil and rest for 10 minutes before carving. Meanwhile make a rich beef gravy adding a splash or two of red wine to the stock during the making thereof. Serve sliced roast beef with your favourite vegetables. Pour the wine and start eating and sipping - the rest will follow automatically!

Have a great weekend everyone. I think mine is going to be a lot of fun - as long as I don't look at or read the news. All around us these days is gloom and doom. I, for one, refuse to be dragged down into the cauldron of despair.

Let's all look on the bright side of life!

REFLECTIONS AND CONSTANTS

Some people enter our lives and stay for the duration. Others stay long enough only for a brief moment before leaving. Albeit a short visit, some leave an indelible impression, others not. Some leave without hint nor warning. Some give a reason why. A few we willingly choose to walk away from without wasting a backward glance, feeling happiness or relief, sometimes both, that they are no longer a part of our lives.

Those who have helped forged loyal friendships and memories are dearly cherished. Anticipation for those yet to enter one's circle of existence is a part of life's wonderful mysteries. And it's a marvelous inevitability that this chain of new acquaintances will not be broken until the day we float off into the unknown blue yonder. (Well, in my and my readers' cases, anyway!)

The choices one makes of who enters, who remains, who is not welcome and who leaves one's circle of friends is purely up to one's self - to the individual. Isn't that a wonderful power to possess- particularly if recognised and utilised?

Last week, a family - an extended family came into my life unexpectedly - though it was from my own instigation. One thing is certain, they shall now be a part of who I am from this day forward, and I, a part of them.

You see, I found my long-lost, but always-known-about half-brother! I'm not an orphan after all!

However, I'm never alone, nor am I an orphan when I have my two furry rascals as pictured above by my side!

VERY, VERY, VERY SLACK! I KNOW!

Time - sometimes our friend, other times our enemy! I have no idea where time has gone so far this year. Already we are mid-way through June and here am I posting for the first time in 2008! I guess I've lost all my regular, good-hearted readers and shall have to begin at the beginning once more!

I apologise for my absence, but I have been very busy with this and that and a bit more of that!

As you can see from above, some of my precious time has been occupied with painting in acrylics and I thought I'd show you a couple of my completed "masterpieces", just to prove to you that, in fact, I haven't had idle fingers or hands!

Where do I start in telling you what I've been doing. I think I will broach the subject/s slowly so as not to inundate you with too much information! Suffice to say all is well in my neck of the woods - the gloriously lush, green woods in which I dwell. My mountain greenery and sanctuary has benefited from much welcomed rain of late, so everything is standing sparkling tall and bright in thanks to Nature's gift.

I promise I shall not be so slothful in my jottings from this moment on. I do hope someone pays me a visit. I have missed all you wonderful folk and hope all is well in your respective lives.

The fear of not remembering how to do all of this set in for a moment or three - but I guess it's kind of like riding a bike!

Cheers,
Lee

And The Party Continues....

...showing no signs of ending!

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas. I did! And the celebrations continue here "Down Under". I'm not sure when it all will end, or, for that matter, if I'll survive! But I come from pretty strong stock, so I won't give up or in! Time enough for sleep later!

My left-over visitor has snuck off to the pub to replenish the supplies, so I've taken this opportunity to sneak in here to catch up with you. If I was sensible (and I'm not), I'd be trying to catch a nap. However, the local liquor store is only a few moments away, so I really don't have time to have a worthwhile "catch-up" sleep!

Christmas Day was a bonanza of guests, food, champagne, wine and goodwill. I think it was only a couple of days ago, but as I've lost track of time and days, I really have no idea. I do know I had and am still having a marvellous time.

Now the run-down to New Year's Eve is upon us all. Although I'm sure I still have enough food within my household to last until New Year's Eve 2009, I'll be doing a run to the butcher on New Year's Eve to pick up some good, thick, juicy steaks as I'm planning a small barbecue. What's New Year's Eve without a good old Aussie barbie, I ask you? I might even do a "Paul Hogan" and throw a few "prawns/shrimp on the barbie", just because I can!

My two cats have just sighed, given up and decided to go with the flow. I think I've done similar as I know I will have no peace until around 2nd January 2008...not that I'm complaining, mind you! 'Tis all lots of fun and good cheer.

After a fairly erratic, and at times, a downright annoying 2007, I'm quite happy to bid it farewell with a loud"bang", and to be able to optimistically look forward to 2008. I have a gut feeling 2008 has a lot of good things in store for me, and I hope, likewise, for all of you.

Towards the end of next week, I'll have to take off my party hat, hide away the whistles, burst the balloons and burn the streamers, as it will then be time to get serious...head down and bum up to describe it with clarity...work will be beckoning, and I shall have to heed the call!

Even though 2007 had its "moments", amongst those wasted times that I have since chosen to forget, I did have many good times (and the good times were in the majority), I was fortunate to meet some interesting, very nice, honest and "straight-from-the-shoulder" new friends. I bade farewell to some, but in the long and short of it, I gained more than I lost. And one can't ask for more than that, can one?

Here on the mountain and elsewhere in Australia from all reports, except for Western Australia that is, we've experienced a wonderfully cool Christmas season. Rain fell on and off throughout Boxing Day, making it gloriously cozy here in my cabin. I do so love rainy days...and nights.

I wish each and everyone of you a prosperous, healthy, peaceful and happy New Year. I hope 2008 is kind in every way to one and all (including me!).

Happy New Year!

A Ho! Ho! Ho! And a He! He! He! Ha!

Let's feast our eyes a while before attacking the repast on the "Day"! I'm whetting our appetites in readiness.

An Aussie Christmas is not Christmas without a collation of fresh seafood, in my opinion. Long gone are the days when I slaved for hours over a hot stove to produce the "traditional" fare to hungry hordes around my Christmas table. A "traditional" feast handed down by our Scottish, Irish and, in some cases, but not mine, English forefathers that is so, so wrong for our Christmas temperatures!

I've friends coming over on Christmas morning for drinks and tasty hors-d'oeuvres. Some will be staying on for a leisurely luncheon, which shall linger long into the afternoon through to dusk. No doubt by now you've guessed I'm having a scrumptious banquet of succulent seafood to be followed by a mixed berry Pavlova, a Sacha Torte, and of course, over to the side a rich fruit cake (which I've already made and have been "topping up" over the past few weeks), just in case we have any room left while we sip on coffee and liqueurs! Oh! Did I mention a variety of dark chocolate truffles and chocolate-coated ginger that will accompany the coffee?

As usual, I've broken my promise to myself. I had planned not to plan anything for Christmas, however the fever surreptitiously grabbed hold of me when I wasn't looking and was weak of mind and will. The above is the result!

It's been a year of ups and downs, more downs than I needed or wanted, I think. So I figured, "what the hell", I may as well go out with a bang, forgetting the bad (and those who caused it!), concentrating on the good with my eyes, heart and mind keenly on the future.

I'm starting a new job shortly, so that's a huge plus. With that in mind and on hand, my time for blogging will be very limited, at least for a while.

As much as I tried to escape pre-Christmas celebrations, I have failed and am failing miserably (read "happily", I guess!). Already I've succumbed to four celebratory gatherings with more to come over the next couple of weeks. And I've not even mentioned New Year yet! There's life in this old bird yet, it would appear! Ask me again around the second day of 2008 and I may answer differently!

All is good in this neck of the woods. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas. I hope you have a wonderful time with your families and friends. And may 2008 be kind to us all, bringing peace, good health ,and a little prosperity thrown in for good measure.

I'll leave you with a few fine words. When you hear the corks a-popping at the stroke of midnight farewelling 2007 while heralding in 2008, know that amongst that sound will be some of mine! "Here's to your top, here's to your middle, may you get a "liddle!"'

Should auld acquaintance be forgot
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
and days of Auld Lang Syne.

Chorus: For Auld Lang Syne, my dear,
for Auld Lang Syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet
for Auld Lang Syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint stowp!
And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

Chorus

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit,
Sin' auld lang syne.

Chorus

We twa hae paidl'd in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd.
Sin' auld lang syne.

Chorus

And there's a hand, my trusty fere!
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak' a right gude willie-waught,
For auld lang syne.

An Irregular Visit!

I admit to the error of my ways! I've been missing in action! I apologise for my absence and thank you all for your good wishes in the meantime, and thanks to those who passed on your very nice comments for my birthday. I had a wonderful day, a wonderful weekend, actually. A friend came to visit for a few days and I had a group over on the day for a long, leisurely, totally misbehaved birthday celebratory lunch! We grazed over a table laden with delicious fare, tossed words and laughter back and forth. Food and wine, however, wasn't tossed around other than down our respective throats! I certainly proved I was still alive and kicking as did my guests!

Time has been my enemy. I've been busy with this and that and a bit more of that.

I'm working on a fairly large painting at the moment that needs constant care and attention. Together with answering the call of my creative juices, many other important chores have needed my attention.

The mountain has received some much welcome rain over the past few weeks. Daily I gaily watch as my vegetable plants reach out for the sun, their stems and leaves growing stronger by the minute. All are looking healthy with the promise of future home-grown, healthy produce to be heartily and thankfully consumed. Nature is an awesome phenomenon. It's so humbling.

David Beckham visited our fair shores this past week and proved what a wonderful young man he is. Some of our footballers, of all codes, would be well-advised to take a leaf or two out of his book. I'm definitely a fan of his. His professionalism and good manners during interviews and his behaviour when mingling with the crowds were impeccable. With all the pressures of his "celebrity-status" and the football field upon him, he stands tall.

The above painting and drawing were done for fun.

Thanks again, everyone....I must away to the woods. Duty calls!

Time To Take A Breather!

I'm taking a break from blogging for a couple of weeks. There are a lot of things I have to attend to and never seem to have or find the time to do so. This, too, of course, is the start of the "silly season" for us all with the run-down/lead-up to Christmas.

In the words of Douglas McArthur, "I shall return", or later in the words of the now governor of California, "I'll be back!"

Before I disappear o'er yon horizon, I'll leave you with a couple of recipes to tempt your taste buds.

Shed no tears, for all too soon, I'll reappear to tease and torment you!


Beef Stroganoff

1 1/2 lb. lean beef (rump or sirloin work well)
3 Tablespoons butter
1 cup sliced mushrooms
1 large onion, sliced
2 Tablespoons flour
2 cups beef bouillon or consomme
2 Tablespoons tomato paste
1 tsp. dry mustard (or Dijon mustard)
3 Tablespoons dry sherry or brandy
2/3 cup sour cream

Remove all fat and gristle from beef; cut it into narrow strips about 2 1/2 in. long, 3/4 in. wide and between 1/4 and 1/2 in. thick. Dust strips with salt and pepper; set them aside for about 2 hours, but not in the refrigerator. When you are ready to prepare the dish, melt 2 tablespoons of the butter in a heavy skillet and saute the mushrooms until tender. Then remove them and set aside. In the same butter, saute the onion until brown with a little crushed garlic; set aside. Add the last tablespoon of butter. When it is hot put in the strips of beef and sear them on both sides, but leave them rare. Remove them and set aside. Sprinkle the flour into the pan and blend it with the remaining butter, browning it well. Then slowly add the beef bouillon, stirring well to form a smooth gravy. Next add the sherry (or brandy), tomato paste, and dry mustard (or Dijon mustard), blending well. Now return the meat, mushrooms and onions to the pan and let the whole thing simmer very slowly over the lowest possible heat for about 20 minutes. About 5 min. before serving add the sour cream and blend thoroughly.


Double Chocolate Brownies

125g chopped chocolate
200g butter (unsalted)
1 cup of flour plain (sifted)
2 tablespoons of dutch cocoa (sifted)
2 cups of caster sugar
1/4 teaspoon of baking powder (sifted)
4 eggs
Extra 100g chocolate chopped into chunks to add to the prepared mixture
Extra cocoa or icing sugar for dusting over brownies before serving.

Preheat the oven to 180c. Lightly grease a 20x 30cm rectangular cake tin and line with baking paper. Melt the butter and chocolate in a glass bowl over a medium sized pot with a small amount of water simmering (not boiling), keep stirring until melted smooth. In a bowl combine the cocoa, flour, sugar and baking powder. Add the melted chocolate mixture and the eggs one at a time, stirring well between each. Pour into the prepared pan and poke in the extra pieces of chocolate into the brownie mixture. Bake for 45 minutes or until cooked when tested with a skewer, the skewer probably won't come out clean, however the mixture should easily form into a ball when rolled between your fingers, not crumble. Once cooked, remove from the oven and cool on a wire rack. Slice the brownies into squares and dust with cocoa or icing sugar.

And just for the fun of it, here's a bit of nonsensical verse! (I must have had nothing more important to do that day!)

Nursery Crhymes!

Jack and Jill didn’t go up the hill

To fetch a pail of water

Tho’ they thought they oughta

Jack had other things on his mind

So Jill followed close behind

To see what she could find

At the top Jack looked around

Much to his surprise he found

Our Jill had arrived before him

And was lying prone on the ground

Humpty Dumpty

Had a lot of gall

Humpty Dumpty was after a brawl

When the crowd left

He became quite bereft

In finding himself all alone

And all that Humpty could do was groan

Little Bo-Peep has had no sleep

And doesn’t know when she’ll get any

When she left home

She forgot her comb

Now she has tangled hair of mahogany

Jerry found a little clam

When the tide was low

And every time that Jerry looked

On a rock he surely kicked his toe

Airy fairy out on the prairie

Strong does the wind blow

Where nobody dwells

And there are no hotels

And definitely no maids in a row!

When Jimmy Buffett

Went to the banquet

He couldn’t get his way

He picked up a cider

And felt like an outsider

He wasn’t having a very good day

The little fluffy friend above will watch over you while I'm away! The original pencil drawing by me hangs, framed, upon my wall.

A Time To Vent...A Time He Went!

Outback Vagabond

Stoically he traverses outback tracks unknown
With swag and blackened billy he wanders alone
Sun-bleached hair skin of leather wiry yet robust
Shielding his weary eyes from swirling red dust

Through the shimmering haze ahead a dry creek
As nightfall draws near the outcome looks bleak
Taking long strides determinedly he pushes on
Then he spies dancing brolgas beside a billabong

A restless sun peeps o’er horizon a new day dawns
The swagman stokes his campfire stretches yawns
His purpose lies at the end of an errant track ahead
What awaits fills him with pain sorrow and dread

(Paintings and poem by me)

I've been very remiss, this I admit. Time, or lack thereof, has been my enemy. Mix that together with a lack of motivation, what do you end up with?

Also, a friend has formed a habit of popping in on me every second day and it's beginning to drive me a little crazy, crazier than I normally am!

From reading my posts over the past few months, you may have gleaned that I enjoy my own privacy and space. I'm not one, and never have been, to "drop" in on people unannounced. And hate it when they do that to me. I don't need to be around people all the time, or have them around me. I'm starting to feel claustrophobic....and cranky!

Without offending the "offender", how do I explain my feelings to him? The silly part is, I'm being "offended" by his continual appearance at my door, and here I am feeling hesitant of offending him? I find myself with a perpetual knot in my stomach every time I hear a car drive up this private, one-way lane, hoping I don't hear a car door open and shut!

One of the things that really is starting to get under my skin and annoy the hell out of me is that those who know me well, know and understand my ways. This knowledge is known to my "offender", and yet he believes he has special dispensation!

Sorry, mate! You don't!

How do I let him know that he's beginning to (or has) step over the mark by appearing every second day on my doorstep? I don't want to hurt his feelings nor sever our friendship. He, his wife and I are good friends. We three get on well and always enjoy the special lunches we share together every now and then. I think his wife is glad to have him out of her hair for a while, but he's starting to get into mine and under my skin!!! I have to break him of this bad habit, without breaking our friendship. It's not my desire or want to hurt anyone's feelings.

Help! Here I am fearful of hurting his feelings, while mine are being angered and ignored!

Out of the blue yesterday, I received an email from someone I’d worked with many, many years ago in my first job. We’ve not seen each other since I left Gympie to live and work in Brisbane all those years ago (stories I’ve been relating in “Reaching Out to the City Lights”….which I must complete one of these days!). Vicki, the sender of the surprise email, for the past eleven and a half years was Personal Assistant to our recently retired Queensland Premier, Peter Beattie. See, I do have friends and acquaintances across the political divide! Tracking me down through mutual friends, Vicki imparted some sad news to me. A co-worker from those halcyon, innocent, naïve and simple days of our youth passed away. Tears flowed freely and unashamedly down my cheeks as I read and recalled the happy, fun times we all had shared.

On the one hand, my entrance into the wide, wonderful, grown-up “working world” was full of eager anticipation and bravado, but on the other hand, I approached it tentatively, with concealed inner tremors. A whole new life, filled with unknown adventures and promises opened up for me.

I left high school mid-Junior year without completing the final examination. Much to my geometry and algebra teacher, Mr. Martin’s mixed emotions of delight and disappointment. His lessons bored me. I must admit I was a disruptive student under his supervision. I wasn’t rude, but I had a bushel load of uncontrollable mischievous behaviour when in his presence. Consistently, I just scraped through any Maths A assignments. "As long as I passed" was my motto. In my other subjects I was always up with the first two or three in class, reveling in such subjects as English, History, Geography and the commercial subjects. However, when it came to algebra and geometry my interest flew out the window in a puff. To prove a point and to keep Mr. Martin on his toes, I believe upon reflection, I decided to knuckle down and study. For my last examination before the major Junior trial, I received 95% for the Maths A exam. Jimmy Martin’s “delight” was over my result, crowing, “I knew you had it in you…all you had to do was put your head down and concentrate. I knew it!”

Accepting his jubilant, congratulatory praise, I smiled at him, ‘You’ll never get me now!” My cry was in reference to his “little black book” in which my name filled its pages with enough detention dates to have carried me through until this day! That was his disappointment, I'm sure! Standing facing each other, we smiled, shook hands and acknowledging a “draw” in our “battle”, we each went our separate way, he back to school, and me towards my future.

Dressed in a crisp blouse, sombre sweater and skirt, with lightly and carefully applied make-up, I entered the hallowed domain of Tozer and Jeffery, Solicitors, (now known as "Jeffery, Cuddighy & Joyce) to commence my new role as legal secretary on a Monday morning in late July. I was fifteen years old, a naïve innocent in an unknown world. With me I carried a vague idea solicitors had something to do with the law, however I was not deterred by my lack of worldly knowledge, a fact I kept fairly well hidden…I believed! For the first time, I earned money of my own. I felt like a queen! My first pay packet enabled me to purchase a moss green short-sleeved woolen jumper (sweater), a pair of shoes and a 45rpm record of Gene Krupa of all people! It was proof of my love of the drums and for the maestro who had changed drumming in the eyes of the world, I told myself as I hugged my new purchase. He who had drawn people’s focus to drumming and drummers like no others before him had been an idol of mine from when I was a very small child.

A little history for you to ingest and digest:

Sir Horace Tozer (1844-1916), solicitor and politician, was born on 23 April 1844 and baptized Horatio at Port Macquarie, New South Wales, son of Horatio Thomas Norris Tozer, chemist, and his wife Charlotte Winifred Amelia, née Croft. Educated at Newcastle and at Rev. W. H. Savigny's Collegiate School, Sydney. He was articled to James Malbon Thomson in Brisbane in 1862 and admitted as a solicitor of the Supreme Court of Queensland on 7 December 1867. The practice he established next year at Gympie soon flourished. A joint owner of mining leases, Tozer became an authority on mining law and was a member of the Gympie Mining Court; he conducted two mining appeals before the Privy Council, in London.

(Delving amongst some dusty, very old journals in what we named "the dungeon", a below-street level floor of the premises, I came across a thick, hard-bound ledger with hand-written, ink entries referring to James Nash, dated back in 1867-1868. James Nash, prospector, discovered gold in 1867 which put Gympie on the map as well as restoring the coffers of Queensland's treasury. I was thrilled with my own discovery. Years later I learned that all those historic, important journals and ledgers were dumped when interior renovations took place. Naturally, I was gob-smacked! They were important parts of Gympie's history, I believed...correctly!)

With my introduction to Tozer and Jeffery, came my introduction to Keith Brown, “Brownie” as he soon became affectionately known. To me, at that time, he was quite “old”, but in hindsight, he had not tipped the scales at forty years of age when I began working with him. Unconsciously, “Brownie” and I became drawn to each other. Perhaps it was because we were both Scorpios, with his birthday falling nine days before mine. He was, I guess, what is now known as a “Paralegal”, and then known as a “Legal Assistant”. “Brownie” also handled all taxation matters. Soon, I began doing all his dictation and kindred chores.

“Brownie” was generous of spirit, sporting a wicked sense of humour. Donning another robe and hat, he was one of the local professional photographers, taking photographs of weddings, special celebrations, etc., for the local paper, “The Gympie Times”, and on behalf of private contracts. Always in search of a subject and story to satisfy the newspaper’s requirements, we girls in the office soon became “Brownie’s” regular “models”. Barely a paper was published without one or more of us featuring on Page One, Two, Three, and/or wherever else a story and photograph could be placed.

His latest photographic efforts were displayed constantly in the window of Stalley’s Shoe Shop in Mary Street, the main street of Gympie, able to be purchased by the public, whether they were related to the subject or not! A fact I was to later to discover! A few of the local high school senior boys at the Christian Brothers’ College purchased photos of me and pinned said photographs up in their dorms at their boarding quarters! Quite an achievement, I suppose, considering I wasn't a Catholic! That was probably the first, and the last time I’ve ever been a “pin-up”!

I’ve always laid claim to the fact that “Brownie” was the first man I’d ever slept with!

Let me clarify that statement before your mind is flooded with incorrect notions and assumptions!

“Brownie’s” office was situated in the top level of the building in which legal practice operated. The morning sun poured through the wide, high windows. Often after a couple of hours of constant dictation a desperate desire for sleep would take over, not only by me, but “Brownie”, too. We formed a pact, where, in turn, with one keeping watch; the other would place his/her head on the desk and have a nap. This pleasure became a habit and throughout the five years I worked with “Brownie”, I also “slept” with him!

“Brownie” was a gem. He was a loving, proud husband and father of three children.

Every year following my departure from Gympie up until I returned back in 1998, I rang “Brownie” on his birthday. Being back in Gympie, I visited him and his wife a couple of times. They lived not far from my dwelling.

When “Brownie” retired from Tozer and Jeffery I was living in Yorkey’s Knob, Cairns. I was invited to his retirement party that was held at the RSL Club, but because of commitments I was unable to attend. However, I wrote a poem to him in dedication of the fond and fun memories I had of those wonderful days and years working with him. Graham Jeffery, the son of my boss, John Jeffery, who had completed his “Articles” beneath his father’s guiding hand, who also worked as one of “us”, staff, and who later inherited/bought his father’s practice had the illustrious duty of reading my poem during the evening’s festivities. Later that night, after the party was over and everyone was back in their respective homes, I received a telephone call from Graham, the anointed one, informing me that “Brownie” had been so thrilled and so very pleasantly surprised by his poem.

With conflicting emotions, ranging from tears to laughter and all those in between, I read yesterday’s email from Vicki. Transposed back to those years, one part of me wanted desperately to remain there, lost forever.

Hind’s Bakery on the esplanade at Tin Can Bay, way back when I was a small child, made the best meat pies I’ve ever tasted. Full of delicious meat and sauce encased in golden, flaky pastry, they were a’ must’ during our visits to Tin Can Bay.

Running a close second, if not nose to nose, were the pies from Webster’s, a small store operated by two sisters at the bottom of the hill, which is the junction of Lawrence and Mary Streets in Gympie.

To this day, I’ve never tasted pasties anywhere as good as those bought from Webster’s.

Condie’s and Harry’s were the two local bakeries in town at that time. The pasties came from Harry’s. Over the years, I’ve searched bakeries high and low to reproduce the taste of those marvellous pasties, but to no avail. I continue to be disappointed. I’ve tried so many different pasties from so many shops in as many areas. Not once have they matched those from Webster’s Corner Store. This is the closest to the original I can get.

CRUST FOR PASTIES

2 cups flour

1/2 cup shortening

1/4 cup lard

1/4 cup scraped suet

water

FILLING

1 1/4 lbs coarsely ground beef (lamb can be used, very finely diced)

4 medium potatoes, diced

1 large onion, chopped

1/4 cup Swede turnip, diced

1 English turnip, diced

1 carrot, diced

salt and pepper

Put the flour in a bowl and cut in the shortening, lard, and suet. Add just enough water to make a soft dough. Divide the dough into four parts and roll out each piece into a circle about the size of a dinner plate.

Crumble the meat into a bowl and stir in the potatoes, onion, Swede turnip, turnip and carrot.

Divide the mixture into four parts, putting some on one side of each piece of dough. Sprinkle generously with salt and pepper.

Fold the pastry over the filling to make half-moon shaped pies. Seal the edges and cut a couple of small slits on the top.

Bake on a baking tray at 200C for 30 to 35 minutes, then reduce heat to 180C and bake 15 more minutes.

Here’s another pastry that maybe a little simpler for the pasties.

4 cups self-raising flour

1 teaspoon Salt

1 1/2 cups Shortening

1/2 cup Ice Water

1 Egg – beaten

Combine flour and salt in a mixing bowl; cut in shortening. Rub together with your fingertips until the mixture forms pea-sized crumbs. Sprinkle with water, 1 tablespoon at a time, tossing lightly with a fork after each addition, until dough forms a ball. DO NOT OVERMIX. Wrap dough in plastic wrap; set aside in refrigerator 30 minutes to rest.

The magic ingredient for great tasting pasties is the inclusion of Swede turnip to the filling. To my taste and mind, pasties never taste as good without it.

So often I become nostalgic thinking about food, wishing and wanting to recapture tastes from years gone by.

I'm still a lover of the great Aussie icon...the meat pie! Oh! How I love a good meat pie!

Meat Pies:

2 cups Plain Flour 125 gm Lard, chopped (or chilled butter) 2 Eggs, lightly beaten 2 Tablespoons Water, approximately 2 sheets pre-made Puff Pastry 1 Egg Yolk, lightly beaten Filling A dash or two of olive oil 2 Onions, chopped 900 gm minced Beef or finely chopped beef 1/4 cup Worcestershire Sauce 1/4 cup dark Soy Sauce 2 teaspoons Beef stock powder 2 cups Water 1/2 teaspoon ground Allspice and/or mixed herbs 2 Tablespoons Cornflour 2 Tablespoons Water, extra Pepper

Method for making Aussie Meat Pies

Sift flour into bowl; rub in lard/butter. Add eggs and enough water to make ingredients cling together. Press dough into a ball, knead gently on a floured surface until smooth, cover, refrigerate 1/2 hour. Divide dough into 8 portions. Roll out each portion on lightly floured surface large enough to line 11 cm pie tins. Trim away excess pastry. Place tins on oven tray, line pastry with paper, fill with dried beans or rice. Bake in moderately hot oven about 8 minutes, remove paper and beans, bake further 8 minutes or until pastry is lightly browned, cool. Spoon cold filling into pastry cases. Cut 8 x 12cm rounds from puff pastry, brush edges of pastry with a little egg yolk; gently press puff pastry tops into place; trim edges. Brush tops with a little more egg yolk. Make 2 small slits in centre of pies, place on oven trays, bake in moderately hot oven about 15 minutes or until lightly browned. Serve hot with tomato sauce. Filling: Heat oil in pan, add onion, cook stirring until soft. Add mince/chopped beef; stir over heat until browned. Stir in sauces, stock powder, water and allspice/herbs. Bring to boil, simmer, covered, about 30 minutes. Stir in blended cornflour and extra water, stir over heat until mixture boils and thickens. Once they're out of the oven, all you have to do is bog in and enjoy! (With mashed spuds and mushy peas!)

Not having a father in our household, Mum was the main "bread-winner". She was a "working mother" in the days when it was quite a rarity. When Mum was home, she preferred gardening to housekeeping or cooking. The running of the household was our Nana's domain. Mum prepared a garden to the side of the front garden path where she planted and tended to vegetables. Always, it seemed, we had tomatoes, beans, peas, lettuce, potatoes and corn on ready supply. When we had too many tomatoes, Mum turned her hand to cooking and transformed the over-abundant tomatoes into pickles.

GREEN TOMATO PICKLES

2lbs tomatoes

2 large onions

1 tablespoon each of curry powder, pepper, dry mustard

3 tablespoons golden syrup

1 pint malt vinegar

Cut tomatoes and onions into slices. Sprinkle with salt and let stand for 12 hours. Then drain off liquid. Put vinegar, curry, mustard and pepper on to boil, then add syrup. Add tomatoes and onions. Boil until tender. Pour into sterilized bottles.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with some good old home-style food! It's an elixir for one's heart and soul.