Waggs Walkabout

How to Call a Dog

2012-02-16T10:05:00.000+09:30

My son has added the perfect pet to our household, animaginary dog. It doesn’t shed or poop,it’s VERY quiet and it has imaginary bowls for its imaginary food and water.Despite the fact that I’m routinely accused of sitting on the invisible dog, Idon’t have any complaints about our new pet. When it first “appeared” I asked theRussian what he was going to call it and he announced “9, 10, 11, 12, 18, 19”.

I have pointed out, on any number of occasions, that ashorter name would make the easier to call the dog, and each time the kid justgave me one of those looks. The entiresituation finally came into focus one evening last week when we went to thepark one evening after dinner.

Tying the leash to the bike.

A good time was had by all as we ran amok, and burned off some excess energy. The dogs leash was tied to the handle bars of the bicycle as we set off for the adventure and upon arrive on the other side of the street; the dog was untied and allowed to run free in the park.

As we were herding the kid back into the house with discussionsof bath and bed time, he announced that we’d left the dog at the parkand we needed to go back to retrieve it. In an attempt to outsmart the four year old, I assured him that if he callsthe dog, it would come running home. Oneof those long silent pauses, where you can almost see the gears spinning ensuedand then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his imaginary mobilephone, flipped it open, punched some numbers and said “Dog, you come home now!.” He then snapped the phone closed and turnedback to me and said “He’s coming in a minute.”

All I could do was bite my lip and blink my eyes in aneffort to not fall to the ground in laughter. It wasn’t until later when reflecting on my day that Irealized he had no idea what “Calling” the dog meant in the traditionalsense. The only calling he knows how todo was on a phone, which explains why I asked what we were going to call thedog, I got a phone number!

Battle of the Bougainvillea

2012-02-14T20:32:00.001+09:30

Like so many of my escapades, it all started quite innocently.I went to collect the mail and noticed that the bougainvillea was again impeding access to the mail box. Out ofthe respect for the postie (mailman for you yanks), I decided to grab the shearsand give it a bit of a trim.

After only a few snips, I realized that the bougainvillea had reached up its gnarly tentacles and was attempting to take over a nearby tree so I went back to the shed for the loppers and it spiralled out of control from there.

I gave the bougainvillea covered front fence a good haircutthen turned my attention to the evil duo that guarded my front entry. I really don’t mind the front fence being boobytrapped by blood thirsty vines. I have peaceof mind knowing that none of the local hoodlums aren't ambitious enough to take onthe vines in order to gain access and the little hoodlum that lives in my housecan’t even see out through the stuff even if he did know how to scale a fence.

The ugly wall that had been covered by the blood thirsty bougainvillea.

In addition to the front fence being covered bybougainvillea, there are two guarding the very ugly wall near my frontdoor. When we moved into the house inNovember of 2010, the shrub of Satan had reached above the house and attacheditself to the AC unit and electrical lead coming to the house. It was drastically cut back at that point andgets a tidy up about every other month just to provide safe access to the frontdoor and my nearby roses.

The second time it drew blood sent me back to the shedfor a bow saw and the fight was on!

Iwill admit to enjoying the vivid and long lasting blooms of the bougainvillea,but I’ll lay money that the devil himself having dreamed up this horticulturalnightmare. The thorns are needle sharpand nearly a half inch long. Trimming it only seems to encourage new growth andit has the ability to send up new shoots of over a foot in a matter of a coupleof weeks.

By the time it was over I was bleeding in five places, butthe Beelzebub bush had been cut to the ground. I know it will be back, I’m guessing that I have at least of few monthsof respite before I get clawed in the backside while watering my roses.

I got the last laugh!

Merry Christmas to All

2012-01-26T22:12:00.000+09:30

Christmas has come and gone and once again I’m in line forthe laziest blogger of the year award. Iwon’t bother with excuses, because they’re like asses. Everybody has one; some are simply moreamusing than others.

Christmas this year was way different than any of us hadever experienced. The Russian was veryconcerned about how Daddy Baba (aka Santa Claus) was going to get here with nosnow. Fortunately there are severalAustralian children’s books cover that very topic, the most commonly agreedupon version is that Santa arrives in Oz with his reindeer and lets them have a rest while he uses kangaroos to make his deliveries in the summer heat. Our specific version is that the reindeer were resting at Taronga Zoo inSydney and six, big white kangaroos, known as boomers, were doing the work inthe hot Aussie summer. This works outwell with the Aussie Christmas carol “Six White Boomers”.

I’ve always had a tendency to over think and over engineermany of the aspects in my life; spending all day everyday with a littleperson is magnifying that situation. SO –this is how we ended up with a mini blizzard in our living room in the middleof the summer in the Australian Outback. I had seen these incredible paper snowflakes in a restaurant in Russialast year and someone there had been kind enough to show me how they were madeand give me one to use as a pattern. Ihave time on my hands and a serious lack to intellectual mental stimulation, soafter I get Dennis and Dave tucked in at night, I stayed up for hours making afew dozen paper snowflakes. Some werethe regular ones we all made as kids, where you fold the paper then cutdifferent shapes; others were the 3D versions ranging in size from 6 inches upto 20 inches across. They were allstrung onto fishing line and hung from the living room ceiling. Every time the AC kicks on the flakes flutterand produce a rather magical effect.

I hosted a book club meeting shortly before Christmas andended up running a crash course in snow flake making at the end of the meeting.

In past years we had a Christmas stick instead of a tree,but friends demanded and we agreed that the Russian needed a Christmas tree evenif it was artificial. We were gifted an sucha tree by someone who wanted to clear out their spare room and with a littlecreativity, we did a decent job of filling our government issue home with itswonky floor plan situated in the middle of the desert in the sweltering heatwith holiday cheer.

During the lead up to Christmas, the Russian was askedrepeatedly what he wanted Santa to bring him and the one constant was “a cake”and often he asked that Santa come and eat cake with him. As indicted previously in this post, I’vebeen known to over think things, SO arranged to borrow a Santa costume, recruitsomeone to fill it and baked and decorated a devils food two layer cake withbutter cream icing, decorated with Christmas trees and poinsettias and thelettering “Merry Christmas Dennis”. Everythingwas organized for a Christmas morning delivery.

On Christmas Eve, my friend Lori, who also adopted a childfrom Russia, called to wish us a Merry Christmas and I mentioned Dennis wantinga cake from Santa and she tells me about Christmas that at her daughtersorphanage. Like most orphanages, therewasn’t enough money for to receive gifts from Father Frost a.k.a. Daddy Baba,but he did making an appearance and handed out cupcakes to each of the children.

By no means would I consider myself wealthy, but as aproduct of the land of plenty, I assumed he wanted some amazing creation; itwas incredibly humbling to realize that the only thing my son wanted from Santafor was a simple cupcake. It brought atear to my eye and warmth to my heart to remember that the wants of many of thepeople in this world are so simple.

After that, the cake I had lovingly baked seemed ostentatious,but I had the bloody thing done, the required clothing and the delivery organized, SO…. on Christmas morningat about 11 am, the phone rang with a call from Santa to say that while theroos were taking their nap at the Alice Springs Desert Park, he had cleanedout the sleigh in preparation for the trip back to Sydney and he discovered a cakethat he had forgotten to leave at our house. Since the roos were still a sleep,Santa asked Dave to come pick him up so that he could deliver the cake inperson. (yes I know I need a job)

Our little Russian is usually quite gregarious and social,but the presence of such a revered figure in his home left him in total awe andvery shy. He didn’t utter a sound whileSanta was here and wouldn’t even look him in the eye. The excitement happened afterward andlistening to him tell the story was worth every bit of the effort that wentinto making it happen. As time went by, the story of the Christmas cake became more elaborate and way more creative. Atone point he decided that the reindeers had made the cake and stirred thebatter with their antlers.

Although all he asked for was cake, I think he enjoyed all the little extras Santa left.

2012-01-26T19:45:00.003+09:30

HAPPY AUSTRALIA DAY

I'm working on a new post, but wanted to tell everyone - Happy Australia Day!

All in a Days Work

2011-12-10T15:36:00.001+09:30

We just came home from Family Day at the undisclosed locationin the desert where my husband works.

Dennis got chased by a robot, petted a horse, fired a watercannon, sprayed a fire hose, went swimming and held a python, all in 104 degree heat. A good time was had by all and if I revealed anything else they’d have tokill me.

Christmas Spirit in the Desert

2011-12-05T10:13:00.001+09:30

Yesterday we were twice rewarded with displays of theChristmas spirit. It was a lazy Sundaymorning at our house and at about noon, I was still wandering around the housein my PJs. I heard a bunch of noisecoming from down our ordinarily quite street and thought “I wonder what theheck is going on.” As the noises gotlouder, I detected a honking horn, rings bells and shouts of “Ho Ho Ho.” It took me a second to recall that one of theservice organizations (and I apologize for not knowing which one – Rotary,lions, APEX ???) cruises town this time of year on a Sunday morning, with Santain the back of a ute handing out icy pops (popsicles) to kids.

Since I was in my ratty PJs, I rushed Dave and Dennis out ofthe house to chase Santa down the street. It was well worth the effort, because our little Russian bounced back tothe house with eyes as big as saucers and grinning from ear to ear. We couldn’t figure out which excited him more– seeing Santa or getting the Icy Pop; either way it made his day.

Later in the afternoon, we went to the home of friends toshare some holiday cheer. Dave and I both wanted to partake in the consumptionof liquid cheer and because our status in the country comes with a zerotolerance for legal infractions, plus we have that whole responsible parentthing going, we didn’t drive ourselves to and from the event. As we often do with this group of friends,the hosting couple picked us up and we took a cab home.

As we ventured home in the cab, Dennis began to ohh and aweat the Christmas light displays along the way and the driver slowed down forthe little guy to get a good look. As wegot closer to our house, the driver flipped off the meter and announced thatthere were some really good ones just a little way out of the direct routehome. I think the driver had as much funas Dave and I did watching and listening to Dennis exclaim his delight at allthe lights.

In a world that just keep getting more jaded, hectic andimpersonal, it was heartwarming to encounter a stranger that was willing to commitsuch a simple act for the sake of bringing joy to someone’s day.

Thank you Mr. Taxi Driver.

Why I had a martini after dinner:

2011-11-22T23:36:00.002+09:30

During the course of the day, I suspected that my child was trying to push me over the edge of sanity. This morning when I made his bed before school, I discovered one of the decorative decals that had been on the wall of his bedroom, stuck to the bed sheet. The wackiness began in earnest when I was asked to help him sing Happy Birthday to everyone whose name he could recall and everyone got their own singing of the first verse. I was scolded when I tried to group several people together. We wrapped it up while pulling into the preschool parking lot with a chorus of “Happy Birthday other kids”.

After running errands in the rain for a couple of hours, I picked up the Russian and came home. He opted to stay outside and play in the rain while I whipped up lunch. He came to the sliding glass door in the living room and wanted to come in covered in wet sand. I wouldn’t let him in and told him to around the house to the back door and take his shoes off. I walked through the house to the back door and found the Russian standing outside the back door with his pants down around his ankles and he proudly announced “Pants off!” Somehow I kept a straight face, while recommending that he take off the muddy shoes before trying to remove the soggy pants.

During lunch, we got to discuss how he wanted to be “big and strong like that guy” in reference to the plumber working within hearing range of our kitchen table. I also got to hear how his eyes, nose and ears were going to get “really big” from drinking all his milk. He also explained loud and clear that he couldn’t sit up straight in his chair was because his butt was itchy. Since the water was turned off while the plumber was working, we had to discuss why his teeth weren’t going to fall out if he couldn’t brush his teeth after lunch. He did reassure me that he wouldn’t pick his nose or pee his pants during nap time and that he would love me “ever ever.”

Post nap, he was in the living room and I heard the fireplace doors open and close and the foot stool being turned over. Upon questioning of the suspect, I learned that he was baking cookies for mama in the fireplace and cooking shrimp under the foot stool. My living room was in complete disarray but it’s hard to blame a guy who’s whipping up calorie-free cookies and prawns for you.

Much of the rest of the afternoon followed with him tiptoeing on the line of acceptability and every time I even looked at him, he threw his arms around me and shouted - hug!!!! At one point I did reprimand him for something and he stomped off to his room to pout (I love a good long SILENT pout!) Eventually I went to check on him and when I peeked in his room and asked what he was doing the response was “Dennis eat this book”.

He asked for an afternoon snack and chose a pear, insisting that I not cut it up or remove the peel. He then proceeded to scrape the entire peel off the pear and announce he was full.

At the dinner table, he delighted in reminding Dave and I keep our left arms in our laps and elbows off the table. We spent way too much time discussing how big he needed to get before he could have wine with his dinner. When he burped and reminded him to say “excuse me”, he asked if he asked if he should say “excuse me” when his butt burped.

AND that is why I had a BIG martini after dinner. I might not have been sober at all when Dave got home from work, but I’m still taking Tylenol to treating my throbbing knot on my head that resulted from standing up and ramming my head into a cupboard door that had been left open; plus there’s that whole responsible parent thing.......

Dingle All The Way!

2011-11-18T14:14:00.002+09:30

Yesterday the Russian received the latest “grandma box”. He gets a bit crunchy if more than a couple weeks go by without him getting mail and happily my mother has taken that on as a personal challenge. Yesterday’s package contained the - oh so wonderful reindeer antlers and that seems to have put him in the Christmas mood.

Guess it's time to work on a few more of the lyrics.....

Splish SPLASH

2011-11-10T22:27:00.001+09:30

This evening at dinner, I reminded Dennis that he had swimming lessons tomorrow. In retrospect, I should have waited until AFTER bath time to mention swim lessons. From now on, the bathmat will not hit the floor until he's ready to get out of the tub.

Trick Treat

2011-11-09T14:29:00.002+09:30

The concentration of Americans in Alice Springs throughout the past 40 years has left an indelible imprint on the culture of the town. One of the most visible is the flagrant celebration of the American holiday of Halloween.

There are costume parties all over town and a BIG family Halloween party put on by the super secret place we can’t mention, also known as JDFPG. Kids of all nationalities take part in trick or treating and our Russian was no exception.

This time of the year in the desert is generally hot and nearly always dry. That was the case on the Saturday before Halloween. The afternoon of the big party, we spent time finding the lightest weight, coolest clothing for Dennis to wear under his costume.

Just 24 hours later the temperature had dropped drastically and the storm clouds rolled in. It rained on and off that day and by evening it was a torrential downpour. Our first trick or treating adventure as a family was certainly memorable and Dennis LOVED every soggy moment of it.

We visited less than a dozen houses and all three of us were soaked to the skin. Despite our rain coats and umbrellas our shoes were squishy and the Cat in the Hat looked like a drowned rat. Oblivious to the weather, Dennis skipped down the sidewalk, jumping in puddles. He cheerfully yelled “Trick Treat” at each house and after receiving candy called out “Thank you –Welcome!” Every time we walked away from a house, Dennis would say to his bedraggled mother and sighing father “Not done, no car.” He was pretty bummed when we called it a night.

There are no pictures of the drowned cat from that night be here are so shots of the Cat in the Hat at the Halloween party.

No party in the Outback without inviting a few of the locals to join in.

Cat in the Hat and Minnie Mouse are getting to know Mrs. Lizard.

He was way more interested in petting the python than I was.

Cats are VERY good at jumping.

The Russian experienced his first corndog at the event and he enjoyed every last morsel.

The remote control spider was the favorite of the day.

Butter Math

2011-11-07T21:34:00.004+09:30

Being whacked upside the head with the metric system is all part of living outside the US. Much like learning a new language, you get tired of converting everything, so you just learn to think in metric. If you keep a couple of simple conversion factors in mind it’s not that tricky. A kilo is 2.2 pounds, so you can half the kilo amount to know approximately how many pounds you’re dealing with. A mile is 1.6 kilometers so 1.5 is close and makes for easier math as does the 2.5 centimeters that translate into an inch. Volume are a bit trickier at 3.7 liters per gallon, but milk comes in one and two liter jugs, so you don't need to think about that one and gas in ridiculously expensive in any measure so doing the math on gas purchases only causes pain and anguish and should generally be avoided.

I will admit to a couple of translation glitches early in my life here in Australia. Fortunately beef mince (hamburger) freezes. I needed 2 pounds and asked the butcher for 2 kilos. I knew as soon as he set the mammoth bag of meat on the counter that I had messed up but was too embarrassed to say anything, so I lugged my 4 and half pounds of meat to the car and went home and stocked up the freezer.

The only time I now get stumped is in cooking. The old imperial system of measure has a few quirks that present some challenges. Butter is the best example. Butter is measured in tablespoons in the US which is actually a measure of volume. Measuring a solid glob by volume is a bit wonky when you really think about it and measuring by weight makes much more sense. In the US it doesn’t really matter because butter comes in handy little paper wrapped sticks with the tablespoon lines clearly marked.

Where it gets interesting for us foreigners is when we buy a package of butter, and when it comes time to use it, we discover that it’s a solid 400 gram block of butter and not four individually wrapped quarters. That means it’s time to do a bit of math. You’ll will need to convert from the measure of volume (tablespoon) required by the recipe to the number of grams you’ll need to carve off the big honking chunk o’ butter laying on your counter (Cooking in metric necessitates a set of kitchen scales.
The metric conversion tool on my computer quickly tells me that 6 tablespoons equates to 5.41 cubic inches. Being me, I grab a ruler and start measuring the chunk O’ butter think this won’t be exact but I can make it work. As I start scratching numbers on a piece of paper and adding decimals, it occurs to me that I can’t possibly be the first person with this conundrum. I cruise back to the computer and type in “metric conversion, butter” and Shazam – a butter converter magically appears on my computer screen. It’s amazing and will connvert portions of butter I’ve never even heard of – double sticks, half sticks and even dekagrams for gosh sakes. It gives you the answer but also the conversion factor if you are a true nerd or just an inquiring mind. Did you know that 1 tablespoon of butter equals 14.18 grams?

It a great tool and way easier than carving up 5.4 one inch cubes of butter!

2011-10-30T12:54:00.000+09:30

Now that Qantas has stopped all flights both domestic and international, Alice Springs is even more cut off than ever. Qantas is the only airline serving Alice Springs, so no passenger flights in and out and none of the regular cargo that travels on those flights. The sign as the news agent today indicated that there would not be any interstate news papers until Qantas resumed flights. I can’t wait to learn what else travels in the bellies of those planes. Just one more adventure in the Alice!

2011-10-14T17:55:00.000+09:30

One of things that I admire most about Australians is their pride of country and steadfast believe and support of Australian made products. Given that, I wasn’t surprised to realize that animal crackers in the land down under are a bit different than those up north.

Australia is the home to a unique group of critters; it only seems fair that they’d make cookies in their honor.

The box even has fun facts for each critter. Did you know:

A wombat’s pouch (they’re marsupials) faces backwards. (They’re burrowing animals and a rear facing pouch prevents dirt from getting in the pouch and on the babies)

Kangaroo’s can hop up to 50 kph (31 mph)

Koalas sleep at least 19 hours a day

The platypus is only one of two mammals that lay eggs

Cockatoos can live for as long as 50 years.

Springtime in Alice

2011-10-07T10:13:00.003+09:30

0921_LR, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

Spring has arrived in my garden and the flowers are celebrating.

peach rose

2011-10-07T10:11:00.003+09:30

peach rose, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

0952_LR

2011-10-07T10:11:00.001+09:30

0952_LR, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

0936_LR

2011-10-07T10:10:00.003+09:30

0936_LR, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

0927_LR

2011-10-07T10:10:00.001+09:30

0927_LR, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

Up Close

2011-10-07T10:09:00.001+09:30

0913_LR, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

Three white roses

2011-10-07T09:54:00.001+09:30

Three white roses, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

Roses thrive in this hot dry climate.

Happy Happy Birthday!

2011-09-26T16:50:00.002+09:30

We met Dennis, just a week before his third birthday. Instantly realizing that he was supposed to be our son, we found is incredibly difficult go home without him and without acknowledging his upcoming third birthday. We arranged to leave some money for a birthday party and a disposable camera to record the event. The changes in him in the past year are amazing.

Here he is in the first week of September of 2010.

This is just a year later.

Earier this month we celebrated our son’s birthday. Although it was the fourth celebration of his birth, it was his first birthday as our son, as an American and in Australia.

Being a novice parent, I have no idea how to host a kid’s party and the idea of a large group of children makes me sick to my stomach. SO – I whipped up the normal party with our friends, invited three other families we know who happen to each have one have small child, checked out some big toys from the Toy Library, made a Cat in the Hat cake, built a Gak, chilled some wine and with the help of my adorable husband whipped up a double batch of pirojki nachinkoj iz mjasa.

The last item mentioned is a classic Russian food, which is basically a bread roll filled with any number of fillings. We made two versions, one with a cabbage and sauerkraut filling and the other was stuffed with a ground pork and beef combo. They were accompanied by a choice of horseradish or mustard sauces. Since over 2 dozen rolls were devoured in less than an hour, I think it is safe to same they were well received.

Here's a few shots from the day:

The Cat in the Hat cake was a BIG hit.

Every kid needs a Slip in Slide.

It's OK folks, it a toy and he always wears the goggles!

Check out those wranglers...and NO socks.

Mmmmm Good.

A round of Ring the Gak is good for all ages!

You gotta love a kid who's just as impressed with cards as he is gifts.

The birthday boy gets some hlep from Tom is assembling the shark hunting ship.

A Long Way Baby!

2011-09-26T16:08:00.000+09:30

Twelve months can sometimes whiz by at warp speed or it can crawl slower than we think possible. The past year of my life has done both and been one heck of a wild ride. During the first week in September of 2010, Dave and I were Perm, Russia meeting a little person who would change our lives forever. People often comment on fortunate he is to have been adopted by us, but the reality is we’re the lucky ones to have been gifted with such a funny, smart, charming and loving child that fits SO beautifully into our lives.

Parenting has taught me more patience than which I thought I was capable. I can’t even imagine what has gone through the little guys mind as we’re rocked his world in every way possible. In just 12 months, he went from being an orphan in a Russian Baby Home to a gold class frequent flier on America Airlines. He went from never taking his socks off to refusing to leave them one.

He has ridden a camel and had fed kangaroo. He loves to chase parrots around the park and counts the number of trailers on road trains. In the same thirty day period, he dipped his toes in both the Pacific and the Great Southern Oceans.

You’ve come a long way baby!

Dennis and I on Maslin Beach, during our visit to Adelaide for dental surgery. August 2011

Whoops - wrong way

2011-09-18T22:00:00.003+09:30

Today we had decided to take in a bit of culture and get out of town as well by heading out to Trephina Gorge for an a cappella concert that was part of the Alice Desert Festival. Trephina Gorge is 45 miles straight east of Alice Springs on the Ross Highway. We were headed out of town at approximately 2 pm for a 3 pm concert, thinking we would get a scenic and leisurely drive through the eastern Mc Donnell ranges. At the edge of town we noticed a sign that looked like it has been spray painted in haste and read “Trephina Music Concert moved to Ormiston Gorge.”

We were VERY lucky to have noticed the sign because Ormiston Gorge is 93 miles in the OPPOSITE direction. We quickly whipped around in the road and headed west at a not so leisurely pace. Only in the Outback could you even imagine moving an event over 90 miles away from the advertised venue on the day of the event with nothing more than a hand painted sign.

The change of venue was likely addressed at the beginning of the concert but we were a tad late getting there since the distance to the event doubled with no notice. Our best guess is that bush fires were the reason for the change. Having lived in Alice for four years now, Dave and I both laughed and said “Oh Well”.

We still had a scenic drive and enjoyed wonderful music in a magical setting. The high cliffs blocked the scorching sun rays and the amazing red rock walls of the gorge served as a natural sound shell.

The director used a microphone when talking to the audience, but the voices of Asante Sana rang off the stone walls in an almost haunting way.

Sitting in our camp chairs in the dry river bed, Dave and I enjoyed the music and Dennis played quietly with his sand bucket and shovel. After the concert we choose to avoid the line of a hundred or so cars all traveling the same twisting hilly two lane road back into Alice by stopping in at the Glen Helen Resort for an ice cream bar and a bit more amazing outback scenery.

We also worked in a quick game of "neaking" (For those of you who haven't spent much time lately with short people that don't use the letter S, "Neaking is when you try to sneak up on your own shadow and catch it.)

As we headed home, Dennis asked to have the radio turned on. He likes his music and having slept most of the way out to the gorge he didn’t realize that the Alice radio stations fade away at about the 40 mile mark. He wasn’t very accepting of that explanation and continued to request music. Dave and I wrongly assumed that our singing was so bad that one or two songs would cure him of this need for music. We sang every freaking song we could think of, most with mumbled words and mutilated melodies. I’ve never been good at remembering the words to songs I hear on the radio and 4-H summer camp was a mighty long time ago. We had finally resorted to Christmas carols when we got close enough to town to turn on the radio and couldn’t have been happier to hear Elvis Presley howling “You aint nothin but a hound dog.”

This week’s To Do list includes down load some children’s songs from I Tunes and purchase one of those adapter jobbies that allows the IPod to play through the car radio.

A Fan Club??????

2011-09-13T12:57:00.000+09:30

The Alice Springs branch of the Dennis Shaw fan club is alive and well. It appears that I’m now just his minder. Everywhere I go now, people instantly ask “Where’s Dennis” and are clearly disappointed that he’s not with me.

The lady that cuts his hair and I use the same chiropractor. The last time we were there for an appointment, she happened to arrive while we were still in the waiting room and she sat down next to him read him a story. The chiropractor always offers Dennis a gummy worm and usually takes the time to have one himself and discuss the various colors and flavors with the little Russian.

Our local butcher shop keeps a bucket of candy hidden behind the counter as treats for well behaved little “customers”. Dennis has had his share of lollies there but he occasionally gets the special treat of a sausage stick and he likes those MUCH better than the candy.

The Russian is now attending Kindy, which is the Aussie equivalent of 3 year old pre-school, two mornings a week. The last activity of morning involves everyone sitting in a circle on a big rug while the teachers lead the little rug rats in some group songs. More often than not, my little Russian scam artist is snuggled up on the lap of one of the teachers, singing along with a big smile on his face.

Today while the munchkin was at Kindy, I ran a few errands and popped into Wicked Kneads bakery for a latte and the first words out of the lady behind the counter were not “Good morning, what can I get for you” they were “Where’s the little guy?. I explained that I was allowed out on my own while he was at Kindy. She was so sure that he’d feel neglected for missing a trip to the coffee shop; she gave me a free doughnut with multi-colored sprinkles to take home for him.

While in Adelaide last month for a bit of dental surgery, the 70’ish year old lady that also having day surgery slipped me her address and said if it wasn’t too much trouble she’d love to get an occasional update and the adorable little tyke.

His shameless flirting with flight attendants and winking at wait staff does pay off with excellent service, but I am left wondering just wonder how long it will be before women are tossing unmentionables his direction.

Holey Socks

2011-08-24T15:07:00.001+09:30

This is one of my random observation posts, of which I haven’t made in a very long time.

While folding laundry today, I noticed that many of my socks are threadbare and holes are beginning to appear. My initial thought was “How did I end up owning such chippy socks?” Then it occurred to me that all of my socks were purchased when I lived in North America where socks are standard wardrobe items. I’ve now been in Australia for four years and rarely wear socks. They are truly seasonal items here, worn only in the “depths of winter”. Aside from the four months spent in the northern hemisphere, I haven’t worn socks all day long for a week straight in length of time I’ve been here. Hence, my socks are simply dying of old age and I have no need to replace them because I always end up wear the same few pairs that are on the top of the stack.

I love living somewhere that socks are optional even it means I need to keep up my toes polished all year round!

Lemons Lemons Lemons

2011-08-23T15:45:00.000+09:30

It’s lemon harvest time in my hemisphere and after MANY batches of lemonade and many cups and tablespoons of lemon juice safely stored in the freezer. A couple dozen lemons were zested prior to juicing and the resulting zest has been dried and stored for future use. It’s now time to venture into other uses for lemons.

By no means am I shunning the old favorites of lemon squares and lemon pie but I’m discovering a few new and intriguing uses for this humble citrus fruit.

Preserved lemons (as well as limes) are something; I’d seen before on the shelves of gourmet shops and had no idea what to do with them. Last year, I followed the directions of a friend by simply quartering some lemons and stuffing them in a glass jar and packing them in kosher salt. After keeping them in a cool dark place for a few months, I was rewarded with the most amazing flavor which is mildly tart but intensely lemony.

The technique is centuries old, dead easy and worth the wait. I’ve used preserved lemon in marinades, sauces, pasta dishes and in creating tasty little appetizers.

With the jars refilled with this year’s crop and I’ve searched through my recipe collections and found a Lemon-Vanilla Tart recipe for the Better Homes and Gardens (USA) January 2010 issues that is extraordinary. Although the oven candied lemon slices are garnish they are easy to make and WELL worth the effort.

Lemon-Vanilla Tart

Prep: 40 minutes
Bake: 20 minutes

Ingredients

1 recipe Tart Pastry (recipe below)
2 lemons

1/2 cup sugar

1 Tbsp. all-purpose flour
2 eggs
1/4 cup butter, melted
1 Tbsp. vanilla
1 recipe Oven-Candied Lemon Slices (recipe below)

Directions

1. Prepare Tart Pastry. Preheat oven to 450 degrees F. Wrap the rolled-out pastry around a rolling pin. Using pin, ease pastry into a 9-inch tart pan with removable bottom, taking care not to stretch the pastry. Press pastry into fluted sides of tart pan. Trim edges even with the pan. Line pastry with a double thickness of foil. Bake for 8 minutes. Remove foil. Bake 5 to 6 minutes more or until crust is golden. Cool on wire rack. Reduce oven temperature to 350 degrees F.

2. Meanwhile, finely shred 4 teaspoons peel from lemons. Set aside. Squeeze enough juice from lemons to measure 6 tablespoons; set aside.

3. In medium bowl combine sugar and flour. Add eggs. Beat with electric mixer on medium to high speed for 3 minutes or until mixture is light in color and slightly thickened. Stir in lemon peel, lemon juice, butter, and vanilla. Pour into pastry shell. Place tart pan on a baking sheet.

4. Bake 20 to 25 minutes or until filling is set and lightly browned. Cool on a wire rack.

5. To serve, remove sides of pan, and top tart with Oven-Candied Lemon Slices. Makes 8 servings.

6. Tart Pastry: In medium bowl cut 1/2 cup cold butter into 1-1/4 cups all-purpose flour until pieces are the size of small peas. In a small mixing bowl combine 1 beaten egg yolk, and 1 tablespoon ice water. Gradually stir the egg yolk mixture into the flour mixture. Add 2 to 4 tablespoons more water, 1 tablespoon at a time, until all the dough is moistened. Shape into a ball. If necessary, cover dough with plastic wrap and chill in refrigerator for 30 to 60 minutes or until dough is easy to handle. On a lightly floured surface, roll out dough on an 11-inch circle. Use to prepare Lemon-Vanilla Tart.

7. Oven-Candied Lemon Slices: Line a 15x10x1-inch baking pan with parchment paper. Cut 2 small lemons crosswise into 1/8-to 1/4-inch-thick slices. Arrange in a single layer on pan. Sprinkle lemon slices with 1/4 cup sugar. Bake in preheated 275 degree F oven 45 to 50 minutes or until lemons are almost dry and covered with sugary glaze. While still warm, loosen slices from paper to prevent sticking.

Not only is this delicious it is beautiful as well. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it even if you’re like me just trying to find new uses for yard waste!

Not a Clue

2011-07-08T16:36:00.001+09:30

Each day I wander through the parenting maze trying not to draw blood or emotionally scar the little guy. For the most part I’ve been successful – I think. As someone who has always thrived on obtaining results and accomplishing goals, this parenting thing presents a BIG challenge. There are no clear standard of success and failure, especially in the short term.

I’m just hoping to get a few extra points for getting the pre-school homemade chia pet to sprout.

They Call This Winter??????

2011-07-07T19:44:00.003+09:30

Living on the opposite side of the planet from which you grew up is an interesting exercise. It challenges the brain in ways you can’t even imagine. While working in the garden today, I had one of those tiny brain farts when I couldn’t remember what month of the year it was. Forty-some years of imprinting that winter is cold and dreary and occurs in November, December, January and February are hard to overcome. Even after four years here, it still feels strange to be doing winter gardening chores in July.

Earlier this week, I cut back the roses and today I trimmed the cannas and split and moved their rhizomes. The high temp today was a whopping 64 degrees F with enough breeze that required I wear a long sleeve shirt and a fleece vest to feel comfortable– Brrrrrrrrr! As I sat pondering how I wanted to rearrange the flower beds, it occurred to me that if I was in the Midwestern part of the US doing these chores, it would mean that a hard frost had already occurred and that snow and freezing temps were just around the corner. That same 64 degrees would have been a lovely fall day and not a blustery cold winter one.

I am SO spoiled living here because the temps so rarely get down to freezing. Winter here means the citrus fruit is ripe and the humans are getting a respite from the plethora of creepy crawly things that are matters of fact during our six months of summer.

Now I just need to find a use for a tree full of lemons. Hmmm……

The Alice Show

2011-07-06T15:53:00.002+09:30

Last Friday was one of those days that I’ll relish for years to come. Dennis and I spent the day at the Alice Springs Show. Having spent so much time at fairs and livestock shows throughout my life, I thrilled at the opportunity to take the Russian to his first county fair equivalent.

The Alice Show is such an ingrained part of the local culture that the opening Friday of the two day event is a city holiday. Most businesses are closed for the day to allow everyone to attend the show. For a town no bigger than Alice, it’s amazing that so many appear to fill the show grounds and realize that some of the exhibitors have driven many hours, if not days just to get here.

We kicked off the day at the cattle show. Cattle numbers were nearly double of last year and the general condition of the cattle is greatly improved. Both are likely due to the high levels of rainfall and resulting quantities of forage.

Other than the rocky back drop, the dialect, ear size on some of the cattle and a few terms like bullocks and milk teeth, there isn’t much different a cattle show in Alice Springs or Knoxville, Illinois. (Other than the fact that the only two black hided cattle showed in the “other breeds” category, even though they were registered angus.) The announcer harassing the crowd for someone to bring him a cup of coffee, made me feel right at home.

It didn't take Dennis long to notice people (including mom) standing with one foot on the rails.

We watched a few classes and spent most of time discussing – poop. From the beef ring, we moved on to the dog show and agility competition. Dennis was enthralled by the running, leaping and weaving dogs and again, we discussed – poop.

We checked out the poultry and guess what we discussed there? Yep – poop.

You only need one guess on the topic of discussion during the equine events.

With neither of us being a big fan of crowds, we skipped the mid-way and rides. There’s plenty of time for those things when he’s a bit bigger. We spent our day checking out the animals and mechanical oriented displays in addition to watching the grand opening parade. The Caterpillar equipment on display was a huge attraction and Dennis had to inspect, touch or pose with it anytime we got close to the tent.

He would have quite content to spend the entire afternoon sitting in the dragster on display from the Alice Springs Inland Dragway.

The little guy consumed an incredible amount of food. He ate a deep fried foot long sausage and over half the accompanying bun, a large fruit punch and a big bowl of strawberries and yogurt. This was just three hours after his usual breakfast of peanut butter toast, half an apple and glass of milk. When we came home that evening, he announced he was hungry and wanted pizza. I have NO idea when he put that much food in his skinny little 30 pound body.

The Grand Opening Parade took me back to my small town agrarian upbringing. Nothing like a parade that includes, kids, horses, cows, pickups, and even a backhoe! It’s no wonder I feel so at home here!

A day at the show had such a big impact on the Russian that the following morning he came with me to a Weight Watchers meeting and as we were getting out of the car, we discussed the fact that were not any cows at the meeting. As we crossed the parking lot, I worked REALLY hard to change the topic of discussion and prayed REALLY hard that he wouldn’t walk into the Weight Watcher and ask where the cows were or start mooing.

Finke

2011-06-13T22:33:00.051+09:30

Each year on the Queen’s Birthday Weekend (one of the 13 paid holiday's workers in the NT get each year), Alice Springs plays host to the Finke Desert Race. I could take the time to write up an interesting explanation of the event OR I could copy and paste the explanation from the event website. So here’s what they have to say about the race.

The Tattersall’s Finke Desert Race is an off road, multi terrain two-day race through desert country from Alice Springs to the small Aputula (Finke) Community. The race crosses the Finke River, believed to be the oldest river in the world. The race is held each year on the Queen’s Birthday long weekend (second weekend in June). In 2011 the event will be held from Friday 10th until Monday 13th June. “Finke” as it is known, is now one of the biggest annual sporting events in the Northern Territory. It is recognized as the richest Off Road Race in Australia with the added reputation of being one of the most difficult courses in one of the most remote places in the world. Finke is a unique event in that it enables people of all walks of life to become involved. Rarely would you find an event that has over 600 competitors racing over a 460km (280 miles) course that is open to all comers, it really is the most fun you can have with a helmet on!

The people of Alice turn out in droves to camp along the course, cheering on the competitors as they pass and possibly partaking adult beverages. Not being the camping sort, Dave, Dennis and I slept all warm and snug in our beds this Queen’s Birthday Weekend. We did however, venture out to the fairgrounds Friday evening for the Scrutineering process. This is where competitors must have their machines; safety equipment and clothing checked and passed for racing.

Dennis was completely enthralled with all the machines and would have happily stayed there all night. Here are few of the images captured that night.

Here are the happy Wagg-Shaws checking out the racers for the Finke Desert Race.

Dennis was completely enthralled and took the entire event very seriously and slightly bizarre level of reverence. He didn’t even crack that big cheeky grin of his when one of the contestants let him ride a quad runner while it was being pushed to the display space.

It took a while to convince him that his job was done and that we could move on.

One of the reasons so many people turn out to watch this race is that it’s not only for the professional racers with major sponsorship. Anyone can enter and compete. It’s considered quite a feat just to finish the race. While viewing the bikes, quads, buggies and trucks, its fun to see low budget local racers sitting next to professional racers that travel on the national circuit.

There was no doubt of who was leading who around the show grounds.

The competitors were wonderful and as Dennis was checking out the vehicles, several insisted he climb on in and pose for a picture.

Since it was such a testosterone filled evening, we fed Dennis his first sausage roll. It just doesn’t get much more manly that greasy gut bombs and dirt racing.

That my dear friends, is the face of a cheeky little Russian and very happy boy.

Recent Sighting Around the Alice

2011-06-06T17:17:00.000+09:30

Because I’ve been a bit preoccupied lately with that whole getting a kid, circumventing the planet and figuring out how to be a mom, I have been a slack blogger. I’ve come to the realization that I need to get back in touch with Paula and make time for the things I enjoy. The blow torch came out of storage a few weeks ago and I’ve started practicing bead making on Wednesday mornings while the Russian is at pre-school. I had to promise Dave not to play with molten glass in the presence of the Russian.

It’s also time I get back to sharing with all of you some the quirky sights and signs I see here in the Red Centre.

Here are a few shots I’ve snapped in the past few months:

I guess there's no point in making the instructions confusing with big words like "in" or "out".

A side from the deplorable abbreviations and spelling, check out the second menu item from the bottom.

This sign was posted in the movie theater last month. I can't even begin to comment on how wrong this is, but fortunately Dennis wasn't at the movies with me so I just laughed and snapped the pict.

Life's a bit different here in the Outback, but we kinda like it that way.

The Red Flyer Rides Again

2011-06-06T16:51:00.000+09:30

In case you weren’t aware vintage style Red Flyer tricycles are now available. Thanks to the APO, Dennis is the proud owner of a shiny red tricycle that has only drawn blood once so far. That little incident helped expand his vocabulary to include “Rubber Down”. This is a shortened version of a biking quote from Dave “Rubber side down”, which are words to live by for any cyclist.

The final adjustments are made.

Supervising Dad.

Off he goes!

"It works like this...."

Hey baby, wanna go for a ride?

Hey Grandma - I got the coolest bike ......

Ever Ever

2011-06-06T15:50:00.003+09:30

Watching Dennis settle in, gain language skills and come into his own is an amazing process.

Our stay in Minnesota certainly compounded Dennis’ confusion of home and family. Even after arriving in Alice Springs it took a couple of weeks for him to understand that this was HIS home. Having his room decorated in trucks, cars, boats, planes and trains and set up with a toddler bed, a little table and stools and a bookcase full of books definitely helped, but he didn’t understand that everything in the room was his until we started receiving the boxes of toys and books that I had mailed home from Minnesota.

Having experience more turmoil and commotion in just three years than many people experience in a lifetime, he struggles with the concept of permanency. Only after opening one of the boxes we mailed home and noticing Dennis’ recognition of the contents and how amazed he was, I realized that he didn’t understand the items belonged to him. I explained that the books and toys were his “ever, ever”, which is how he refers to Dave and I, as his Mama and Poppa “ever ever”. He face lit up with pure joy as he hugged each of the objects in the box, exclaiming “Neeska’s” (as he referred to himself at the time).

It was one of those heart melting moments, that I’ll never forget.

This photo isn't even remotely related to this post other then the main character. It's just a subtle attempt to a apply guilt to my mother. (She’s sent her fair share my direction in the past 20 years).

This is the Russian carrying the last box he received from Grandma on April 24th. Everytime we visit the APO (Armed Forces Post Office), Dennis thinks we should be collecting a box from grandma. On a recent visit, a family was filling a flat rate box for shipping and Dennis got quite concerned that they had grandma’s box and he wanted it back.

Oh No It's Winter

2011-05-26T10:45:00.000+09:30

It’s been a long time since I taunted those of you in the northern hemisphere about the weather, so the time is now!

Here’s our weekend forecast.

Currently:

10:19 AM Thursday 26 May 2011

48 °F
Clear
Humidity: 58%
Wind: 14 mph from the ESE
Dew Point: 34 °F
Pressure: 30.21 in
UV: -1

Today

61°| 30°

Friday

63°|28°

Saturday

64°|28°

Sunday

63°| 32°

They are calling for bitterly cold temps over the weekend. The words “bitterly cold” are those used by the weather forecasters and the locals. After having survived two months of Russian winter and two more in Minnesota, I say BRING IT ON to those who are worried about a whopping 28 degrees.

I relish my subtropics land where if it looks like it's going to get cold over night I just might have run outside in my PJs and throw a sheet over the lime tree, before I go to bed. That’s my kind of winter. It’s good to be home!

Creepy Critters from Down Under

2011-05-11T09:30:00.001+09:30

A new batch of bizarre but true animal stories from down under has hit the news. Click the headline to read the complete stories and see the photos. (Come on - you know you want to see them......)

Snake's Wallaby Meal
The former Cairns councillor was at his rural property at Bilwon last month when he heard a neighbour's dog barking and rushed down to the water's edge to find the snake devouring a full-size wallaby with a joey in its pouch.

He estimated the python was at least 5m (16 ft) long.

"We were more amazed than anything that a python could get its mouth around an animal of that size," he told The Cairns Post last night.

Froggone it, Bye Bye Birdy

This green tree frog is settling the score for every amphibian that's been pecked to death by a hungry bird.

Beak, feathers, claws and all, Babette and Carmelo Di Bella watched with disbelief and horror as their patio-dwelling friend devoured a young chick.

Spider Eats Bird

These amazing images of a mammoth spider devouring a bird were taken in the backyard of an Atherton property, west of Cairns.

And the images, which are being cirulated via email worldwide, are real, according to wildlife experts.

The photos, believed to have been taken earlier this week, show the spider clenching its legs around a lifeless bird trapped in a web.

Yes folks - this stuff is real and not all that horribly out of the ordinary here. It's all just another day in the great land of OZ.

School Days

2011-05-11T08:56:00.002+09:30

Dennis started pre-school a few weeks ago. He’s only attending one morning a week right now and loves every minute of it. The only point of contention we have is that he doesn’t get to ride the school bus. Every week we have a breakfast time discussion about going to school that day, and being the little gear head that he is, the question of transportation ALWAYS arises. The answers always the same “There’s no bus for your school buddy. Mommy will take you in the car.” He’s not happy about this answer. “No school bus” comes up often in our conversations throughout the week and recently I even overheard a song he was singing to his stuff animals that included the refrain “NO school bus”.

Dennis on his first day at school

Today’s breakfast chat took a slightly different angle. It went something like this:

PAULA: “Come on Dennis, keep eating. You have school today.”

DENNIS: “School bus?”

PAULA: “No bus. I’m sorry, but there isn’t a bus for your school. I’ll take you in the car like always.

DENNIS: “Mommy car. Dennis, plane.”

PAULA:.. Big Sigh. Head in hand.

Firsts

2011-04-29T22:35:00.001+09:30

I have no illusion that Dennis’ life started when he joined our family. So the firsts recorded below, may not be his, but they are mine as a mom and ours as a family.

First haircut

First doughnut

First computer

First steak

First NHL game (compliments of Aunt Melanie)

First chopstick experience.

First Easter egg hunt

First discovery of the goodies inside plastic Easter eggs.

First arrival in Alice Springs

First hug from Dave upon arrival in Alice Springs.

First poolside lunch.

First bloody nose.

First fly up his nose (within 15 minutes of arrival in Alice).

Homeward Bound

2011-04-28T15:14:00.003+09:30

March 22, 2011 was a birthday I’ll never forget. After an early morning cut and color with the Russian in tow, we turned the last corner before arriving “home” and from a block away I could see a huge box sitting on front porch of Melanie’s house. Upon closer inspection of the giant box, I was happy to discover the largest flower arrangement I’ve ever received, accompanied by a big box of chocolates with a card indicating that my darling husband wished me a Happy Birthday and hoped that we would be together soon.

After getting the gi-normous bouquet into the house, I checked the mailbox to find a Social Security card for Dennis. Since he and I had made multiple visits to the regional Social Security Process Center in downtown Minneapolis (please interpret that to not much fun, especially with a three year old) to obtain said document, I was very happy to FINALLY have the darned card. I was thinking that the card was a GREAT birthday present to receive, right up to the time I checked my email and found a VERY special email, which we had been waiting on from the Australian Embassy in Washington DC. You guessed it - the Aussies trumped the Social Security administration, by notifying me that Dennis’ visa had been granted and he could finally enter Australia! Now that - was the BEST birthday present EVER!!!!!!

The rest of the day was spent making travel plans and getting details sorted for our long awaited return HOME!!!!!! Many happy dances were done that day and Dennis and I shared a lovely tuna steak dinner with roasted red bell peppers and asparagus tossed in Dijon vinaigrette. I opened a very nice bottle of wine, but the little guy had to make do with apple juice. (and yes, I been informed that my kid isn’t like other kids in that he has an amazing palette and he doesn’t know he can turn down food.)

The next 10 days passed in a hectic blur and we headed to the airport on April 1 for the last four flights of my around the world tour.

The night before we left, our fairy god mother, Melanie, took us out to dinner at Red Robin for a all American big gooey hamburger and chocolate malt, but not before we visited “Build a Bear”. I have to admit that I’d never been to the bear building business and was only vaguely aware of what it was. Dennis got to select a critter to build and then participate in the stuffing, brushing, bathing and dressing of the critter. This process is how “Jammie Time” the monkey came into our lives.

Melanie and Dennis in "bathing" the new arrival.

Dennis with Fairy God Mother, Melanie.

During the preceding two months of our stay in Minnesota, Dennis and I had encountered a few challenges during the bed time process (he didn’t want to go to bed and Mom was about ready to pull her hair out). To combat these challenges, I had changed the end of day ritual into a celebration called “Jammie Time” with singing and dancing. When the time came in the Build a Bear process to choose clothes for the newly made critter, we discovered that most of the offerings were rather girlish and not quite appropriate for a monkey. As soon as we held up the PJs complete with a whole for the tail, Dennis shouted “Jammie Time” and the name just stuck.

Fortunately, Dennis has turned out to be a champion traveler. He settles in his seat, puts the blanket across his legs, tucks Jammie Time in beside him and snaps the seat belt around both of them. As soon as the seat belt sign goes off, he requests the DVD player for a movie and then sits back to enjoy the movie and wait for the chance to flirt with the flight attendants. He’s a bit shameless about it, but we get excellent service during the flight!

We flew from Minneapolis to Dallas then onto San Francisco for a midnight flight to Sydney. It had been a long day for both of us and I was very jealous of him when we popped him into his footed pajamas before boarding the flight.

Fourteen hours after takeoff, we landed in Sydney, switched from the international to the domestic terminal, got a shower in the Qantas lounge, had a leisurely breakfast and read the paper before hopping the final flight to Alice Springs.

After 107 days and 13 flights, I had circled the globe and returned home a mom. Who would have thunk it!

Hmmmm?

2011-03-16T12:18:00.002+09:30

IMG_3749, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

Dennis’ induction into his new life involves A LOT of firsts. Today we’re sharing his very first cookie baking and dunking experience.

So here we are making oatmeal cranberry cookies compliments of Aunt Melanie and Cargill Milling baking mixes.

My Mom loves me A LOT!

2011-03-16T12:15:00.002+09:30

My loves me A LOT!, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

Don't miss the good bits

2011-03-16T12:14:00.001+09:30

Don't miss the good bits, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

DUNK!

2011-03-16T12:11:00.001+09:30

DUNK!, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

MmmmGood

2011-03-16T12:10:00.001+09:30

MmmmGood, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

Dunked cookies with a water chaser

2011-03-16T12:03:00.001+09:30

Dunked cookies with a water chaser, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

London to Minneapolis, via Dallas

2011-03-07T15:33:00.000+09:30

The flight from London to Dallas was on American Airlines which was a HUGE improvement in the quality of the service, equipment and staff attitude from what we had experienced on British Airlines. While taking our seats, the man seated behind us noticed Dennis and I saw the “oh god – why me look?” cross his face. Having been seated near loud, obnoxious, ill-behaved children on extremely long flights, I knew EXACTLY what he was thinking. I issued a general blanket apology prior to taking my seat and settled in hoping for the best.

Dennis didn’t take any time to settle into his seat and start snacking on the mixed nuts. It wasn’t long before he had the flight attendants oohing and awing over him. The two ladies serving our section of the plane checked in about every 30 minutes to see if Dennis needed anything. One even asked permission to have her picture taken with him. The little guy passed the 10 hour flight with multiple viewing s of Shrek and the original Winnie the Pooh movie and only 3 hours of sleep. The kid made a long flight like a pro! As we were disembarking, the guy seated behind us along with 2 other men, I hadn’t even noticed, approached us to say how impressed they were with Dennis and how well behaved he was.

Upon arriving in Dallas we had only an hour and a half to clear immigration, have Dennis made an American citizen, clear customs and switch terminals. I’ll admit to have been feeling karma challenged while we were being held captive in Russia and I had no faith that we would make the flight to Minneapolis. We cruised thru immigrations and visit to the special window when Dennis’ U.S. citizen was processed and granted. I was hoping for a fun picture of the Dennis becoming a U.S. citizen, but the sleep deprived Russian was having an antisocial moment and given the limited time available a sleep deprived I decided that the photo just wasn’t that important.

Keeping a close eye on the clock, I knew we were making good use of our short amount of time when we claimed our bags and headed for customs. The custom agent did ask to see my newly purchased Russian fur hat and he wanted to know if it was really cold enough in Russian to need something like that. My response was delivered with a dead-pan response of “yep”.

With the bags rechecked, the next hurdle was a security checkpoint. I got our shoes and coats off, liquids out of my carry-on bag, the computer and DVD player unpacked and myself and the non-English speaking three year old through the metal detector and patted down. That accomplished, I need to get us redressed and stuff repacked, so we could find the nearest sky rail stop and get us to the correct terminal and find our gate.

I was tired and getting overheated in my winter sweater and coat. I got my shoes and coat on and got Dennis sat down on the floor and gave him his shoes and told him in Russian to put them on. I got busy repacking the liquids and electronics. As I turned to help Dennis get his coat on, I discovered him laying spread eagled on the floor spinning in circles laughing with reckless abandon. I was torn between wanting to relish in his ability to find joy in such a simple act and wanting to cry out of frustration. I stepped into the rotating whirl of arms and legs, getting him stopped and against his will, stuffing his feet into a pair of snow boots and arms into a winter coat. After grabbing the roller bag, the duffle bag, back pack and the Russian I started looking for a sign directing me to the nearest sky rail stop. The Russian spotted the little people hauling cart; he let go of my hand and ran shrieking toward the cart and its driver. By the time I caught up, he had climbed aboard and was shouting “truck, truck, truck”.

While attempting a capture, I asked the driver where to find the nearest rail stop and how long it would take to get to our gate. When he learned where we needed to be and how soon we needed to be there, he informed us that our best chance was to take a seat on his cart and let him deliver us to our gate. I was VERY happy to oblige, so I sat back and held on to the little person who was trying to hang his head over the side while squealing gleefully all the way. The driver was good to his word and delivered us to our gate just as the first boarding call was made. Since we now qualify as “people needing extra time”, we were first down the jet way. Upon being greeted by the flight attendant, Dennis replied with the quote from Sesame Street of “Wuga Wuga Wuga Wuga, Woo, Woo, Woo”. He got great service on this flight as well.

We finally landed in Minneapolis and were met by my dear David Weinand who hauled the exhausted travelers to Melanie’s house and dropped us off with an welcome kit from his wife and daughters that included homemade cupcakes, snacks, a VERY cool kiddy Black and Decker tool kit and the loan of a car seat for the duration of our stay. Thanks and hugs were given and the weary travels headed off to bed after 20 some hours of travel.

America - Here we come!

2011-02-22T14:48:00.000+09:30

Traversing the globe isn’t as glamorous as I once dreamed, especially when you’re schlepping a duffel bag and carry on sized roller bag containing camera equipment, a lap top computer and a DVD player, a three year old, a back pack full of toys and winter coats for you and the three year old.

Finally getting out of Russia, took some of the bite out of the 2:30 AM departure for the airport, but starting my day at that time of the day is never painless. The trip to the Domodedovo Airport from our hotel should take an hour - - unless you get stuck behind a fleet of VERY slow moving snow plows that adds 40 minutes to the trip. Would you like to guess how I know this?

With a bit of good luck, we cranked through all the security, immigrations and general airlines and airport hoopla arriving at the gate with 15 minutes to spare before boarding a British Airlines flight to London. Shortly after boarding, I realized that my previous disappointing experience with British Airlines was the standard not an exception. I was gutted to learn that BA doesn’t offer alcohol on morning flights - even in business class. I was banking on that little glass of Champagne as a reward for getting up at such an ungodly hour.

Sadly enough, this beverage dilemma was not even close to the low point of the flight. Dennis had slept all the way to the airport and he was working on coming to terms with the fact that he was traveling without his Papa. He was struggling to get situated on the plane. He had rejected each and every toy, book and game in his back pack; he buckled and unbuckled his seat belt a dozen times, perused the BA magazine, the duty free shopping catalog and the safety instruction card all in less than 30 minutes. At his request I handed him an air sick bag to explore and had closed my eyes to think about the next 20 hours of travel, the lack of alcohol on the first of 3 flights and the promise I made to Dave to not take sleeping pill while flying with our newly acquired son. While searching for my virtual happy place, I realized that the whining coming from the seat next to me had subsided. After a few glorious minutes, it occurred to me that I should open my eyes and see WHY he was suddenly so quiet.

At first, I noticed that he had shredded the air sick bag and though “Oh Well”, then I noticed that Dennis was chomping away on a piece of gum. For a millisecond, I thought “Oh, he has gum”, before my brain thought to ask “Where did he get gum?” A brief investigation, confirmed my worst fear. The gum in question was second hand and had been harvested from the air sick bag I’d given him. The little guy was quite proud of his find and was deeply incensed by the suggestion of spitting it out. It was painfully clear that he wasn’t going to give up the gum voluntarily. Given that he’s already had it in his mouth for over 5 minutes and any cooties had already been transferred, I decided “Oh, what the hell, at least he’s quiet and maybe his ears will pop more easily”.

I always believe that it’s best to get the worst bits over early so things can only go up from there! That adage certainly proved right on this trip.

Stay tuned for the highlights of leg 2 of the trip, London to Dallas.

2011-02-08T03:29:00.000+09:30

Things I will miss about Russia:

Caviar on the breakfast buffet
The availability of alcohol at ALL restaurants
Caviar filled crepes at fast food restaurants
Twice a day maid service that includes washing the dirty dishes
Caviar with scrambled eggs
Vodka and Cranberry juice being WIDELY available
Ice sculptures
Fresh bread
Caviar with smoked salmon
Borsht
Fish soup
Caviar on buttered bread
Restaurants that serve breakfast from 10am to 3pm and start happy hour at 4pm with every third drink being free

Things I won’t miss about being in Russia:

The inability to read the labels in the grocery store
The inability to read street signs
Not being able to see the sun
The subfreezing temperatures
Being trapped in a huge city with TOO MANY other people
The fact that ice sculptures decorate the city for several months of the year
The lack of good beef on the menu
Living in a hotel
The 2 pair of jeans and 6 shirts I’ve been wearing since the 22nd of December
Having to discover how each and every faucet is plumbed. – OK, you always have a 50/50 chance but I relish in the certainty that cold is to the right and hot to the left.
Starched bed sheets
Seeing the sun on only 4 of the past 48 days

Another Mile Stone

2011-02-08T02:43:00.000+09:30

Tonight Dennis just successfully completed his first dinner in a fine dining restaurant. No spills or messes only a couple of wolf growls and a bit more back wash in the water glass than anyone really wants to see, but a huge success over all.

He even looked oh so very cute.

Orthodox Christmas Eve

2011-02-06T23:45:00.000+09:30

In addition to Dave and I receiving the greatest Christmas present ever, our trip to Russia gave us an opportunity to experience a part of the Russian culture that few foreigners get to see. We were privileged enough to be able to visit two different churches on January 7 for Orthodox Christmas Eve.

The first of the churches was the Belaya Gora (White Mountain) Monastery which is the biggest cathedral in the Urals. It’s situated 120 km from Perm and 80 km from Kungur. The snow was falling heavily and the icy winds were coming straight out of Siberia (and I mean that quite literally).

Stepping inside the cathedral was a surreal experience, that delivered a sense of calm and serenity that I didn’t even realize was so missing in my soul. At the Belaya Gora Monastery a sort of church service was in progress when we arrive in the lower level of the church. There was a priest in full regalia praying and swinging the really big incense burner (I’m sure there is a more reverent way of explaining the incense). A group of 8 monks were chanting/singing in the most incredible copula style that melded the voices to sound as one. It was the most amazing sound I’ve ever heard. The perimeter of the room was decorated in fresh cut spruce trees decorated in white paper angles. The scent of the trees combined with the incense and the bees wax candles filled the air with a heady aroma which defies description. All of this was taking place in the lower level of the cathedral while the main part upstairs was being ready for evening service.

Over the mountain and through the woods

2011-02-06T23:43:00.002+09:30

White Mountain, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

As we head up the mountain to Belaya Gora (White Mountain) Monastery which is home to the biggest cathedral in the Ural mountain range. It is situated 120 km from Perm and 80 km from Kungur.

Belaya Gora Monsastary

2011-02-06T23:42:00.002+09:30

Belaya Gora Monsastary, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

It's not hard to guess why this place is named White Mountain.

Belaya Gora Monsastary

2011-02-06T23:40:00.001+09:30

Belaya Gora Monsastary, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

Belaya Gora Monsastary

2011-02-06T23:38:00.003+09:30

Belaya Gora Monsastary, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

Doors to the lower level of the cathedral

2011-02-06T23:38:00.001+09:30

Doors, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

Belaya Gora Monastery

2011-02-06T23:35:00.001+09:30

Belaya Gora Monastery, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

Belaya Gora Monastery

2011-02-06T23:34:00.001+09:30

Belaya Gora Monastery, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

The view from the Belaya Gora Monastery

2011-02-06T23:33:00.001+09:30

Belaya Gora Monastery, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

Even monks plow snow

2011-02-06T23:32:00.001+09:30

Even monks plow snow., originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

2011-02-06T23:29:00.001+09:30

The second church we visited was in the town of Kungur, which is south east of Perm. The church was much smaller the cathedral at the monastery, but filled with people lighting candles and saying prayers. Our driver Valentin knew someone at the church was granted us access to the bell tower. The first couple of stories were traversed on winding twisting narrow stone stairs which varied drastically in raise and depth. The stairs open up rather drastically when went above the stone work and continued the climb for a few more stories in the barely enclosed tower while being belted by the arctic winds. It only took minutes at the top until my everything was cold, but I stuck it out for as long as possible to take these amazing photos.

From the bell tower in Kungur

2011-02-06T23:27:00.001+09:30

From the bell tower in Kungur, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

From the bell tower in Kungur

2011-02-06T23:25:00.001+09:30

From the bell tower in Kungur, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

From the bell tower in Kungur

2011-02-06T23:24:00.001+09:30

From the bell tower in Kungur, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

Bells in the church tower Kungur

2011-02-06T23:18:00.001+09:30

Bells in the church tower Kungur, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

From bell tower in Kungur

2011-02-06T23:17:00.001+09:30

from bell tower in Kungur, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

From a top the bell tower in Kungur

2011-02-06T23:16:00.001+09:30

from the bell tower in Kungur, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

2011-01-25T01:20:00.000+09:30

Dave and I left Alice Springs on the 18th of December for the last leg (or so we thought) of a nearly two year adoption odyssey. With only 4 days notice, we traversed the globe and landed in a city whose claim to fame is that it is the “Gateway to Siberia”. In case you aren’t aware - late December is Australia is extremely hot. It was 104°F the day we left Alice. This time of year in Perm Russia would be on the opposite end of the thermometer. The day we landed it was a bone chilling -14°F. In case you are bad with math - that would be a whopping 118 degree difference in less than 48 hours.

It’s now the 22nd of January and we’re not heading tomorrow like we’d planned. We’re still waiting on one piece of paper from the Russian government and we hope to have it into to depart Russia on the 10th of February. Dave will head back to Alice and Dennis and I will head to the States and await a decision by the Australian government about Dennis’s entry visa. Tears have been shed, vodka drunk and chocolate consumed over this situation. We’ve done everything we can and now it’s just a waiting game with no clear end in sight. Please keep your fingers crossed and send all the good karma you can our direction.

I’m not going to bore you with the daily saga of our adventure. I’ve kept a journal that I’ll someday share with Dennis, but I will share with all of you some of the highlights, images and observations from our adventure.

The parenting advice received from my brother, who is the father of 17 year old twin boys, was to finish each day by thinking of what you learned verses what you taught your children. He finished by saying “Give me a call if you ever suspect they learned more than you did.” By his own admission, he hasn’t had one of those days yet.

I’ve been a parent for a whole 11 days now and I’ve learned a great deal and I hope the little person who has come into my life has learned at least a little bit as well.

Here are a few of my recent discoveries:

You don’t need to speak the same language to know if a three year old is tired, hungry, cold, angry or happy.
Three year olds don’t care about keeping different colors of play dough separated and you shouldn’t either.
It’s very important to ask a three year old if his needs to pee BEFORE suiting up in winter outdoor gear.
Parents of a three year old should NEVER leave home without toys and snacks, regardless of how long you THINK you will be gone.
Don’t assume both parents will share the same philosophy on three year olds using ink pens, TV watching, remote control usage or food consumption.
Children can lie perfectly still with their eyes closed for VERY long periods of time and not really be asleep.

I've been uploading may on photos taken over the last month. They can be seen in the Flickr Gallery shown on the left side half way down the page of by clicking here.

Here are Dennis and I in the lobby of the Ural Hotel in Perm.

Russia - Here We Come

2010-12-22T21:24:00.002+09:30

After 72 hours of sheer pandemonium, a truck load of stress, limited amounts of sleep, a few bottles of wine, our car failing the required safety inspection and a special waiver being granted by the Consular General from the Russian Federation Consulte in Sydney, we boarded a plane out of Alice Springs on our way to Perm, Russia.

The call we’d been waiting on for months finally came at midnight on Tuesday the 14th of December and our adoption agency caseworker informed us that we’d been granted a court date – for December 24th AND that we need to visit Dennis the day before we went to court. Looking at the calendar, one might say – ten days – no problem. This is when reality reaches up and takes a big hunk out of your hiney and makes you say “Holy Macaroni Batman - We had better get busy!”.

Not much sleep occurred at our house the night we got the call. We started making lists as soon as we hung up the phone and deciding who was responsible for which tasks. Dave got travel and lodging and I got visas, packing and alot of little but important stuff. It would less then truthful to say that there weren’t a few cross words exchanged in that 72 hour period, but no blood was shed. I won’t bore you with all the minutia, just a few of the highlights.

We received our car registration renewal notice on Monday the 13th. The registration expires before we’d get back, so I popped by the Motor Vehicle Registry on Wednesday only to be informed that it didn’t pass the inspection. None of the items sited were actually safety related, but you don’t get to argue with the guy holding the clip board (they failed me because my high beams were aimed too high, plus a couple of other piddly items). RESOLUTION – A good friend of ours is a mutual friend and next door neighbor with our mechanic. We left the car at their house with the failed inspection notice, car registration and a credit card. They’ll work it out with the mechanic and handle it while we’re gone.

We needed one last document notarized and when I called for an appointment at the only notary office in Alice Springs I was informed that both of the notaries were on holiday and wouldn’t be back until after the first of the year. RESOLUTION – Dave hopped online and found a notary in Sydney that would schedule an appointment for Monday morning.

A Russian visa takes two business days to be issued (if you have all the correct paperwork). Those days don’t include the day the consulate receives your passports or the day you pick it up. We didn’t get the required documentation required to submit the applications until Wednesday. Our passports were sent to Sydney via courier on Thursday, with hopes that they would be ready to be picked up on Tuesday morning and we could fly out that afternoon. We ran into trouble getting our Russian entry visas and the only way we were able to leave for Russia on time was that a visa department worker and the Consular General at the Sydney Consulate of the Russian Federation reviewed our case, took pity on us and stamped the essential visa in our passports without some of the required documentation. We had tickets booked to fly out of Alice on Sunday the 19th and we didn’t know if we’d get Russian entry visas until noon on Friday. This resulted in a few buckets full of stress and the consumption of more than one mango rum popsicles by Dennis’ new mommy. RESOLUTION – Nothing but good ole fashioned sweet talk and a big dose of good luck.

We also found out during this time that the US Immigrations Service seems to have misplaced the fingerprints that they required us to have made in October, because our previous prints had “expired”.
RESOLUTION – I sent them a copy of the signed delivery notice from the courier service. The email I sent was fairly polite - all considering. They admitted blame and are checking on it. We asked our adoption agency caseworker to bulldog immigrations for us on this one while we were in the air.

The actual travel from Alice Springs to Perm take over 30 hours and is a leisurely affair. Our tickets took us first to Sydney for two nights so we could pick up our passports and visas and get the other document notarized. From there we flew to Hong Kong then Helisinki and on to Moscow before heading to Perm.

We also had to mow the lawn, find someone to water plants and pick up mail, whip up some laundry, find two people to sub for us on the bowling league, cleanout the fridge, and everything else that’s required when you’re going to be gone from home for a month. I hope we didn't forget anything important....

What the heck just happened?

2010-12-15T21:55:00.000+09:30

The last time I knew it was the end of October. My friend Melanie had just left from her visit and we were in Sydney to be submit a new set of finger prints to US immigrations (same fingers as last time we submitted them – you gotta love government bureaucracy).

In the blink of an eye it’s almost Christmas and I wonder where has the last month and a half gone? Upon review there are a couple of items that come to mind: an amend the adoption homestudy, approval to move prior to having the adoption finalized, packing up everything we own, kid shower, Cannoli making party, 2 Thanksgiving dinners, 5 going away parties, actually moving everything we own, moving a garden during the heat of summer , painting a living room, unpacking everything we own, Red Back spider population explosion, vacuum cleaner broke; hot water heater, washing machine, dryer, dishwasher all died in first 8 days of being in new house, gutter over seriously overflowed, Christmas shopping and weekly bowling, along with basic life have pretty much kicked my behind in the last 60 days.

Through the afore mentioned items we’ve been in constant contact with our adoption agency and they were telling us “we should hear from the courts any day now”. Not that we didn’t believe them, but that emotional roller coaster wears you out. After months of” leaping” out bed every morning to check the email for the magic message that will change our lives forever, I was a bit ever it all. While I was brushing my teeth at approximately midnight last night, we got a call from our adoption agency case worker. The Russian judge had finally issued us a court date. YEAH! They want us there in a week. OH MY - I THINK I WANT TO PUKE.

The mad rush is here again as we move heaven and earth to get visas and flights arrange to be in Perm in seven days, three of which are taken up by actual travel. Please keep your fingers crossed for us. Even with a court date assigned, there are plenty of things that can go wrong and did I mention that it was 100 degrees here today and we're going somewhere the high was 0.

Send happy thoughts and good vibes my way.

Great Girls Road Trip

2010-11-04T11:56:00.004+09:30

I’m going to rewind the story a bit, because I left out a chapter that has some great scenery.

The train pulled into Adelaide around noon on Monday. I spent the afternoon doing a bit of power shopping then headed out the next morning on the drive to Cohuna, Victoria (even after visiting there I get a smirk on my face every time I think of the town name). Although, Cohuna’s not directly on the route from Adelaide to Melbourne, a former school mate from Black Hawk East now lives there and since I was in the neighborhood, I popped by to see Michelle Quinn (Neiman).

The break of a 15 year draught has left nearly all of Australia unbelievably lush. The grass is green, the cattle are fat, the sheep are as happy as sheep ever get and wild flowers come out to celebrate. The drive to Michelle’s took about 8 hours, but it zoomed by with rolling hills covered in small grain blowing in the breeze, canola fields in full bloom and the breathtaking displays of wild flowers.

I also had the quintessential Aussie experience of ending up in the middle of a herd of sheep. While cruising down a country road, a mob of sheep appear on the road. I put the car in park and just let them and the herder move on past.

In exchange for a place to see for the night I had to promise not to tell her teenage kids any incriminating stories. It was great to catch up with her and meet her husband, kids, dogs, horses and cows.

Sorry there aren't any cow or dog pictures. The rain and drizzle of the day took the fun out of photography.

In addition to the farm tour, I got a side trip to see the Murray just below flood stage. Most American’s won’t appreciate the significance of that sight. After a decade and half of debilitating draught, this entire river system was virtually dry and feared to never recover. The Murray River is at the heart of a great political debate of water rights and has pitted urban verses rural interests and should be a case study for the western states of the U.S. (Sorry for that digression)

After a day of riding around in a ute doing farm stuff (which is great way for a transplanted farm girl to spent her day) I drove to Melbourne to meet my friend Melanie and head off to Bendigo.

The Road Trip Begins

2010-10-09T21:51:00.000+09:30

The car and I departed Alice Springs on the afternoon of Sunday 3 October.

I was traveling on the iconic Ghan train.

The trip to Adelaide takes about 22 hours which means overnight on the train. After sunset, dinner was served in the dining car then passengers retired to their compartments.

After a night in Adelaide, I drove to 8 hours east Cohuna, Victoria to visit a friend from college.

On Wednesday evening I popped down to Melbourne to spend the night - pick up my partner in crime the next morning and heading to Bendigo, Victoria.

Bendigo was once a gold mining area. The elaborate old buildings and this fountain the center of town are trade marks of the area.

We stayed in an wonderful vintage cottage in the center of Bendigo.

Art galleries were visited, gourmet food was eaten, purchases were made and a good time as had by all.

The Great Girls Road Trip of 2010

2010-09-20T12:35:00.001+09:30

Two Midwestern farm girls on the road in Australia- this is one way to spell ADVENTURE. Within days of my friend Melanie booking her plane ticket to Australia the plans for our leisurely drive up the Great Ocean road has made a significant change.

Here’s how the plan looked in the beginning.

Paula and her car hop on the Ghan train and travel from Alice Springs to Adelaide then onto Melbourne.
Melanie flies from Minneapolis to Melbourne via LA.
The girls explore Melbourne then head west on the Great Ocean road, which is rated as one of the most scenic drives in the world. Then explore Adelaide before trekking up the Sturt Highway to Alice Springs.

On the first real planning phone call it’s decided that Melbourne is just another city and if you’ve seen one ocean, you’ve seen then all. SO – the duo is headed north from Melbourne for a 300 mile drive to Wagga Wagga, NSW for a tour of flour mill and a beef packing plant. Yep – you can give a farm girl a passport but you can’t make her a citified.

From Wagga Wagga, we’ll make a 570 mile drive across southern New South Wales to Adelaide. Then after a day to two of retail therapy we’ll drive the last 1000 miles to Alice Springs.

I feel an adventure coming on!

View Larger Map

2010-09-14T12:40:00.000+09:30

If you're feeling depressed by your weather forecast check out the stats for Perm, Russia.

Here's what it's like in Dennis' world at the moment:

Twenty eight and raining is not much fun.

The Beauty of Photoshop

2010-09-13T16:57:00.000+09:30

With the help from Photoshop, I've removed the spots from Dennis. Here's what he really looks like.

I admit to being biased - but I think is a darned cute kid!

Happy Friday Celebration

2010-09-11T22:49:00.001+09:30

This week we hosted an impromptu Friday afternoon cocktail party. A few of neighbors stopped by after work to enjoy fresh squeezed OJ and grapefruit juice and lemonade combined with vodka freshly imported from Russia.

Toasts were made, guacamole was consumed, Jimmy Buffet was played and a good time was had by all!

2010-09-03T02:01:00.000+09:30

What a miraculous week it has been. One week ago today, I was on a flight from Moscow to Perm, on the way to meet a 9 month old that we hoped would join our family. Today, I’m on the return flight thinking about a little boy named Denis who will turn 3 years old next week. (Yes – there’s only one – n in the Russian spelling of his name – since we get to choose his new name we’re adding an additional n. The Russian pronunciation is Denise but we’ll slowly transition him to the name Dennis so that he doesn’t get beat up just for his name.)

We got to take him to the park yesterday and he was completely enthralled by the small water fall .

Here we are walking along the lake with Olga the coordinator from our adoption agency (Small World Adoption Foundation) and our driver Valentin.

Here's a very proud papa!

With Dennis' need to inspect the contents of trash cans, I think him and uncle Chris will get along well!

You gotta love a country that offers caviar filled pancakes/crepes at fast food restaurants!

Dave was happy to check out the artillery museum.

Three Makes a Family

2010-08-31T02:13:00.000+09:30

It’s been a rough couple of days. We turned down the first child we were offered. For a number of reasons, it just wasn’t the fit combination for making our family. The planets were in the right places, because they then offered us the opportunity to meet our new son Dennis. He turns three next week and is completely adorable. It’s going to be really hard to walk away and leave him here until we come back in a few months for our court date to complete the process.

Please excuse the pink spots, he’s currently recovering from a case of the chicken pox and each and every one of his spots has been treated with hot pink antibiotic ointment.

2010-08-23T14:49:00.000+09:30

We’ve spent the night in Sydney and are now hanging out at the airport in the Qantas lounge. That leaves us with only another 10,000 miles to go.

We had dinner last night at the Manley Pavilion restaurant. We ate there during our visit in May, but didn’t have a camera to take this picture.

There are penguins that nest in the area and sometimes come ashore on the Manley beach. We weren’t luck enough to see any of the little guys. Maybe next time!

We'll check in later. Now we're off to Bangkok.

Boat Racing in the Desert??

2010-08-21T17:10:00.001+09:30

Today was the Henley on Todd regatta. That sounds completely normal until you realize that the Todd River is dry. That then leave you wondering how interesting a boat race without water could possibly be. As it turns out a boat race in a dry river is very entertaining and one of the social highlights each year in Alice as well as a charity fund raiser.

Because we had to pack and get everything sorted out, we didn’t attend the races this year but were on hand for the parade.

There were 3 large self powered ships:

the Rotary Viking

The Australian Navy HMAS Courage

and the Imparja Pirates

The big boats take part in a battle at the end of the event, armed with super soaker water guns and flour cannons. It is quite a spectacle to watch (preferable from a distance).

The majority of the day is filled with a wide variety of events that involve people running through the soft sand on the river bed carrying "boats" of very sizes.

I've heard it rumored that there were a few slabs of beer involved in the creation of this event.

One more sleep

2010-08-21T16:45:00.000+09:30

It’s been a crazy couple of weeks, but our bags are packed and we’re trying to stay occupied to help the time pass. Dave just put the kettle on for an afternoon cup of coffee/tea but I’m thinking a gin and tonic would be more useful in calming me down. He’s given me “that look” more than once this afternoon and I usually only get it a couple times a year. I just told him the choice I was considering and he strongly encouraged me to avoid caffeine. Looks like there’s a G&T in my near future!

We’ve been invited over to a friend’s house for dinner tonight so that we don’t need to cook and they can send us off in high fashion. I only need to kill another three and a half hours before dinner. The only thing left on the “To Do” list is clean out the fridge. All I really have to do is pop a few things in the freezer and chuck what’s left in the crisper into the trash.

Although we’ve had a list of tasks that had to be completed prior to the trip, it wasn’t enough to expend all of my excess energy. So in my spare time this week, I have done the following:

Given myself a pedicure and facial
Detailed the car
Swept the front sidewalk and patio on a daily basis
Scrubbed and waxed the kitchen floor
Washed the walls and floors in both bathrooms
Scoured bathtub
Washed every piece of laundry I could find, including bath mats
Weeded the flower bed
Bowled 12 games
Walked over five miles
Cooked gourmet meals every night for dinner
Vacuumed and dusted the entire house
Changed the photos out in a couple frames
Hosted a dinner party
I attempted to read a book, but could sit still long enough to make much progress.

Hmmm – this list makes be seem even more obsessed than I’d previously given myself credit.

Why – yes, that is the smell of a fresh picked lime and the rattle of ice cubes in a glass.

Tomorrow we head to Sydney and since the one and only flight a day to Sydney which doesn’t arrive in time to make any international connections, we’ll spend the night in Sydney. Then on Monday, we take a nine hour flight to Bangkok, Thailand then after a few hours lay over, fly 10.5 hours to Helsinki, Finland. There we get a few hours in the airport then hop an hour and half flight to Moscow. Then we overnight in Moscow and fly another 2 hours to Perm the next day. Our appointment with baby home is on the 26th. All warm fuzzy happy thoughts, prayers and Jedi mind tricks will be greatly appreciated.

We’ll be in Perm until the 31st and will be able to visit our little guy each day for a few hours. On the return trip, we have 3 days in Moscow for the physicals required for the adoption process and hopefully some sightseeing now the wild fires are under controls. On the return trip we have a night in Helsinki then the hellish trip back to Sydney and a terminal transfer and directly on to Alice. Doesn’t that sound like fun? I’ll let you know if we still like each other after 30 hours of travel. I’m betting that I won’t like myself by the time we get home.

The punch line is that this only the first trip! Yep we have to do it all again in a few months. We’re still thinking it will all be worth it and hoping that all the stars line up and the gods smile on us, allowing us to have our little person home by Christmas. We’ll keep you posted.

From Here to There

2010-08-11T22:41:00.000+09:30

The next phase of our Russian import program is upon us. On August 22, we will head to Perm, Russia to meet a little person that will hopefully become part of our family by the end of the year. It’s all VERY exciting, and like all things worth having, not without effort. Beyond the 18 months of paperwork and waiting and the many days and nights of soul searching there is the herculean travel extravaganza required.

The time difference between Alice Springs and Perm is only 3 and one half hours. That may leave the impression that these two points might not be that far apart, or that you could at least get from point A to point P in the same day. Neither could be further from the truth.

Three days, three airlines, four countries, five flights and 12,293 air miles will be traversed just getting to Perm to meet a little person. I’m focused on the reason for the trip and trying to block out the trip itself. Fortunately we’re headed to a part of the world that advocates vodka consumption during air travel.

Life’s no fun without a challenge

2010-08-10T15:59:00.006+09:30

Whether it’s the road less traveled syndrome or the adrenalin rush we get by clawing our way to the top of a mountain, some of us live life for the challenge. There have been many times when I’ve asked myself “whose idea was this?” The answer is almost always – me, myself and I. The things I value most in life are the ones that I worked hardest to attain. Anyone can achieve the easy stuff – where's the fun in having same stuff or the same accomplishments as everybody else?

I realize not everyone on the planet is wired with the same schematic and for that we should all be thankful. NO one would want a world full of Paula’s and anyone who knows me will attest to that fact; some might even say that one is more than enough! However I digress – the purpose of this post is to explain why I play with molten glass in my kitchen.

Several years ago I taught myself to string beads and make jewelry. I was always intrigued with the beautiful glass beads and had long wondered how they were made (yes – I watch the discovery channel on a regular basis). Shortly after arrive in Alice Springs, I attended an art gallery open house and watched a local woman make glass beads. I was completely mesmerized. I sat down on the floor next to her and watched all afternoon. After a year of getting to know her and few other bead makers in the community, she finally agreed to take myself and 2 others on as students.

With the purchase of a 4 lb gas canister, a specialized torch head, a few glass rods, a couple of .06 mm welding rods, a bucket of vermiculite and a few miscellaneous items my adventure into bead making began.

The process I’m using is called lamp glass work and the technique I’m working to “master” is called wound glass, because it involves winding molten glass into a steel rod.

Here’s the basic explanation provided by Wikipedia:

Wound glass beads

Probably the earliest beads of true glass were made by the winding method. Glass at a temperature high enough to make it workable, or "ductile", is laid down or wound around a steel wire or mandrel coated in a clay slip called "bead release." The wound bead, while still hot, may be further shaped by manipulating with graphite, wood, stainless steel or marble tools and paddles. This process is called marvering, originating from the French word "marver" which translates to "marble". It can also be pressed into a mold in its molten state. While still hot, or after re-heating, the surface of the bead may be decorated with fine rods called stringers of colored glass. These are a type of lampwork beads.

Here’s my description:

You start with a glass rod that’s slightly bigger around than a pencil and a 12 inch long piece of .06 mm wide welding rod. The rod is officially called a mandrel and the top couple inches of the rod must be dipped in bead release and allowed to dry.

I begin by lighting the torch and holding the glass rod in one hand and the mandrel in the other, slowing heating the glass in the flame. The molten glass is then wound on the mandrel to form a bead. The mandrel must be turned continually until the bead is completed. Depending on the size and complexity of the design the process can take anywhere from 5 to 35 minutes. Once the bead is completed it is cooled slightly (while still being turned) then buried in vermiculite, to slow the cooling process.

I’m still striving to make two beads similar enough for earrings that don't make the wearers head look lopsided.

Here's a few examples of things I've recently finished.

Time on My Hands

2010-08-02T22:55:00.004+09:30

Throughout life I’ve gained a great deal of insight into myself and have come to the extraordinary realization that I lack patience. There have been a few clues over the years, but I now have no doubt. The hurry up and wait routine of our Russian import program have not been easy for me. As we get a glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel, the waiting is getting more intense and the harder it is for me to not go completely crazy.

Much of the past few weeks have been filled with beading making and jewelry work, but I’ve also found time to furniture polish all the base boards in the house and cleaned out the spice cupboard. I’ve even purchased a label machine, so that I could label the spice containers and sorted them into alphabetical order. Everything in our house that needs a label, now has one and my darling husband requested that I not label any of his belongings, so I’ve purchased another piece of equipment with which to occupy myself.

Today I bought a soldering iron. Before anyone gets all excited about me melting an ity bity bit of metal, remember that I run a blow torch and play with molten glass on a regular basis. I need to be able to solder some of the jewelry I’m working on and I promise to only use it on my metal topped beading table.

Dave hasn’t said anything about my latest purchase, but I'm playing it safe by assuming that he doesn’t want me to work on anything of his. He's funny that way.

Our Import Program

2010-07-26T15:47:00.002+09:30

For the past 16 months, Dave and I have been working on a special project to import a small Russian person into our lives – aka –adopt a child or children from Russia. Any adoption involves a long and arduous journey and the process gets even more complicated when attempted by American expatriates living in Australia. Those who know me well can attest that I rarely choose the simple path in life. It’s not a conscious choice on my part; for some inexplicable reason, I’m attracted to a challenge (which explains a lot about my previous relationships and career choices). But – I digress.

Not only have we had to satisfy the our U.S. adoption agency, the US government and the Russian adoption services and courts, we’ve also had to liaise with the adoption unit of the Northern Territory depart of child and family services and contract with one of their social workers for our homestudy and follow up reports . We’ve had to request documents from every state either of us has ever lived in and a list goes on and on and on……

At the beginning of the process we requested a set of siblings under the age of three and a half. At our ages we decided this was a one shot deal and there is a financial advantage to doing two at the same time. Not quite BOGO, but who doesn’t appreciate a bargain (PS – that was a joke).

As we rolled into the second year of the process, we’ve changed our request to be open to a single child instead of holding out for a matched set. This decision shortened our waiting time, only for the actions of a crazy lady from Tennessee set us back months in the process. It’s disheartening that the actions of one deranged individual can have such a significant impact on the lives of people she will never meet. I’d love the chance to have a chat (that involved sharp objects) with her; it’s probably a good thing that I live on the other side of the planet. The required paperwork includes police background checks. Because of crazy lady, we had to “switch regions”. Each region of Russia has a different set of requirements and forms to be submitted. We recently finished and submitted our request to the Perm region and are hoping a “referral” in the coming days. (Referral is adoption speak for the offer of a child)

In an effort to improve our Russian karma, we hosted a Russian themed dinner party last weekend. It was a great way to keep myself occupied for several days, researching recipes, finding appropriate ingredients and even concocting a substitution for one of the ingredients. The only failure was the search for caviar in Alice Springs.

Here’s the menu: (click on the name of food to see the recipe)

Delicate eggplant caviar – No fish eggs in this one, just roasted eggplant, mixed with onion, tomatoes and garlic marinated in oil and vinegar, served on pumpernickel as an appitizer.

Chicken kotletki with sour cream sauce – Ground chicken breast patties stuffed with sautéed mushrooms covered in cream sauce.

Braised cabbage – Cabbage, onions and carrots braised in bacon fat. (probably won't be featured on the Cooking Light website - but boy does it taste GOOD!)

Moldovan potato Salad – Boiled potatoes and garlic tossed olive oil combined with scallions, black olives, dill, a soft but crumbly Moldovian cheese called brinza (which isn’t available in Alice but a substitute can be created with some time and patience). Shoot me a note if you want assitance on the cheese substitution.

The final course was a selection of cheeses accompanied by Gozinakh which is a sweet gooey treat made from walnuts and honey.

The dinner was a smashing success (two wine glasses bit the dust). Our friends were more than happy to assist in our karma improvement project as we didn’t require them to drink an excessive amount of vodka. I am however pleading the fifth regarding the amount of wine consumed that night.

Catching Up

2010-07-23T15:33:00.003+09:30

During the past year, I've been VERY slow to get photos posted. Now that I have ridded myself of the pestilence of my former employment, I can get caught up on sorting and processing photos.

I really thought that I had posted these already and if I have and just didn’t see them today, I apologize for the duplication. The following are a few of the wild flowers I shot while we were in Western Australia region of Margaret River.

Somethings I just can't stop myself

2010-07-23T15:23:00.003+09:30

adjIMG_6444, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

I have a fascination with flowers. I can loose myself is a field of wild flowers and that's just what I did while we were driving down the road, somewhere betrwwn Perth and Margaret River in Western Australia.

Beautiful

2010-07-23T15:21:00.001+09:30

adjIMG_6465, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

These came is several shades of pink and coral and were quite breathtaking.

2010-07-23T15:19:00.002+09:30

adjIMG_6476, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

I don't know the names of the wild flowers here, so I can't tell you much. This is some form of grass that I've seen on several beaches around Australia.

kangaroo paw

2010-07-23T15:17:00.001+09:30

kangaroo paw, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

The Kangaroo Paw is a native plant that grows throughout much of the country.

Field of flowers

2010-07-23T15:15:00.001+09:30

adjIMG_6469, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

Beach wild flowers

2010-07-23T15:11:00.001+09:30

adjIMG_6590, originally uploaded by waggs walk about.

I don't know what this one is called either. It is apparently salt tolerant because it was growing on the beach in Western Australia.

Probably won't see this in the USA

2010-07-21T09:47:00.000+09:30

I was just reading my latest e-newsletter from Weight Watcher Australia and ran across a list of handy tips for a healthy weekend. The first six points were pretty basic, drink water, get active, eat fruit and veg. It was item seven that made me smile. I'm pretty sure this one doesn't appear on the US Weight Watchers site.

7. Hangover help

So you had a big Saturday night, huh? It may be tempting to spend Sunday on the couch eating anything greasy or salty in sight, but this won’t help your weight loss. Our rescue remedy? Plenty of water and vegemite on toast. Check out more of our healthy hangover cures.

New News

2010-07-21T09:21:00.000+09:30

Just an FYI that I've updated the "Just In" section on the right side of the blog. Nothing in the holy cow - you won't believe this category, just some of the slight quirky stuff that happen is the land down under.

Thought for the Day

2010-07-20T14:00:00.001+09:30

Have you ever noticed that placating fools gives you a exhilarating sense of intellectual and moral superiority?
CRANAplus CRANA
After taking two weeks off work to evaluate whether or not I wanted to continue working there, I came to the realization that I wasn’t being paid nearly enough to put up with that much “stuff”. I’ve long believed that there is a correlation between the payoff (both monetary and personal satisfaction) I receive from a job and the amount of stress I should be expected to contend with on my employers’ behalf. This job was never about financial reward. I was bored and found a opening at a small non-profit organization whose mission I believed in and the communications work was fun and challenging. The work environment and management structure (or lack thereof) is the worst I’ve ever encountered – bar none. I’ve put up with it for 12 months but I have reached my limit.

Here’s the best way I can explain what it’s like to work there is in a hypothetical example- A good day at that place is like having the CEO come into my office and announcing I would need to drop whatever I was working on and get busy taping Jello to the tree. Asking why results a very long convoluted story that boils down to “because I’m the CEO and I said so”. With no timeline or budget provided, I get busy with a project that doesn’t seem to have a purpose. The manager to whom I report comes along and asks me what I’m working on and that asks me why the CEO didn’t consult with her on this project. After sending her off to discuss her concerns with the CEO, I start taping again only to have the Finance Director comes by and demands to know why I’m using red jello. I explain that I like the color red and no one had specified what color of jello should be adhered to the trees, and I refuse to argue with her on the color of jello to be used in this completely pointless project. She heads straight on the CEO’s office for a long closed door meeting. The CEO then send’s my line manager an email saying that this project can’t continue with the use of red jello because an article in the National Enquirer stated that red jello is bad for the environment. The only way this project can possibly precede is with green jello. During this entire episode, I’m trying not to scream – “you people are bloody insane”. I take a break and go to the only office in the place inhabited by sane people. The sane lady makes a proper cup of tea, so we sip our tea and chat about why anyone would want jello taped to a tree. I finish the tea, thank the maker and return to my pointless project. During the afternoon two more people not involved in the project come by and tell me how they think it should be done; then just before closing time the CEO comes by and says they’ve decide that they don’t really want jello taped to the tree after all and wants to know why I work so many hours.

This is an example of a good day – Pointless but amusing on a warped sadistic level. Bad days in that place are like being caught by the undertow in a toxic cesspool. Hence, I have packed up my toys and returned to my life as a lady of leisure.

So far, I’ve amused myself by making beads, processing some of the hundreds of photos taken in the past 6 months with which I’ve done nothing and did some serious house cleaning. Dave and I just spent a long weekend with both of use suffering from a cold. Fortunately for our marriage, neither of us wants to be fussed over when we’re sick. We spent 3 days napping and reading in separate rooms. We went through a large box of cold tablets, 2 boxes of Kleenex, 2 bottles of cranberry juice and one large pot of soup. I even skipped the camel race on Saturday!

Now that I’m on the road to recovery, I’ll be blogging and posting photos from the past few months. There will be lunch’s girls, matinee movies and rounds of golf with the girls and mid-morning trips to the gym on my schedule for the rest of the month.

The only other notable item in my life is an update on our Russian import program. The moronic women from Tennessee that returned a child to Russia, has caused a great deal of difficulty for us and a whole lot of other people trying to adopt. We’ve had to switch to a different region and complete a WHOLE lot of additional paper work. We’re now on the waiting list for a little person/s from the Perm region of Russia. There’s no way to know how long the wait will be. I’ll keep you posted on the progress.

CRANAplus CRANAplus CRANAplus CRANAplus CRANAplus CRANAplus CRANAplus CRANAplus

This calls for vodka!

2010-07-19T16:12:00.000+09:30

Growing up in the Midwest, I have many memories of having bushels, bags and boxes of excess produce. Anyone with a garden in that part of the world has experienced the dilemma of zucchinis “coming out of their ears”.

Living in the tropical desert, we don’t have zucchini plagues, because we don’t have soil or consistent rain. We do however have the correct conditions for citrus production and it appears that the “out the ears” dilemma extends to these crops as well. Friends of ours were coming over for dinner last weekend. Since they have orange and lemon trees at their house, I asked them to bring along a couple of fresh lemons. When I requested two, she said “four is not a problem”.

They arrived at our door with two bags of fruit with the explanation that there was a 10 lemon minimum order and with every order of lemons, customers got 12 free oranges. It's a bit like leaving your car windows down in the my home town only to hop in and discovering a back seat full of zuccinis.

Looks like our vitamin C needs are covered for a while. (The fruit on the left are called bush lemons. They look a bit like oranges but are in fact huge sweet tangy lemons.)

Somethings make you go - hmmmm?

2010-07-16T15:51:00.005+09:30

This blog was created as a creative outlet when I quit my job and moved to the outback of Australia. The secondary purpose was to keep friends and family in the USA updated and my adventures. According to the reports generated by this blogs hosting mechanism, 99% of all visitors accessing the blog are from the United States and due to the nature of the blog; most can be assumed to be friends and family members of the author.

In the past four days, there has been a drastic increase in the number of hits this blog receives and they all originate in Alice Springs. It’s a bit peculiar for a blog, usually viewed twice a day in the USA, to be viewed 36 times like it was yesterday; especially when all the views were in Australia.

This change in viewing pattern makes me wonder what the fascination is, for a group of Australian already living in the outback, to read the ramblings of a Yank expatriate living in their community. My life isn’t all that interesting, especially if you don’t already know and love me.

My only guess is that current employees of my former employer found the posting that explained in the form of a humorous analogy why I choose to return to a life of leisure. At no point, did I name the former employer and prior to posting; I went back thru the archives of the blog removing any mention to the name of the company for which I worked. The now deleted paragraph was a dryly satirical example of the conditions under which I was no longer willing to work.

I believe in keeping my professional and personal life separate and hadn’t intentionally shared my blog with any of my former workmates. Not out of secrecy, but simply because I didn’t think they’d be interested. I’m now curious about how a group of people who all complain about being overworked had time to be surfing the web and looking at my blog – but oh well. Through a serendipitous and circuitous route, I discovered that the 87 hits my blog received this week were most likely originated within the office of my former employer.

Although Australian’s aren’t guaranteed the same inalienable freedom of speech in a constitution that American’s are, there is legal precedence in this country has been set in a number of cases that sure citizens of Australia that they can freely express their opinions verbally as well as in writing.

Although I am safe from any legal liability I have chosen to remove the offending paragraph out of respect from my former colleagues. In no way, would I want them to be placed in an uncomfortable position between myself and their employer.

To read more about the freedom of speech in Australia - visit this link.

What's New in My Life

2010-07-12T22:48:00.004+09:30

After taking two weeks off work to evaluate whether or not I wanted to continue working there, I came to the realization that I wasn’t being paid nearly enough to put up with that much “stuff”. Hence, I have packed up my toys and returned to my life as a lady of leisure.

So far, I’ve amused myself by making beads, processing some of the hundreds of photos taken in the past 6 months with which I’ve done nothing and did some serious house cleaning. Dave and I just spent a long weekend with both of use suffering from a cold. Fortunately for our marriage, neither of us wants to be fussed over when we’re sick. We spent 3 days napping and reading in separate rooms. We went through a large box of cold tablets, 2 boxes of Kleenex, 2 bottles of cranberry juice and one large pot of soup. I even skipped the camel race on Saturday!

Now that I’m on the road to recovery, I’ll be blogging and posting photos from the past few months. There will be lunch’s girls, matinee movies and rounds of golf with the girls and mid-morning trips to the gym on my schedule for the rest of the month.

The only other notable item in my life is an update on our Russian import program. The moronic women from Tennessee that returned a child to Russia, has caused a great deal of difficulty for us and a whole lot of other people trying to adopt. We’ve had to switch to a different region and complete a WHOLE lot of additional paper work. We’re now on the waiting list for a little person/s from the Perm region of Russia. There’s no way to know how long the wait will be. I’ll keep you posted on the progress.

CRANAplus, CRANA

Crawfish Cheesecake

2010-06-07T21:51:00.000+09:30

A few people, including my darling husband, were dubious about this recipe concept, but I persevered and this recipe was granted 5 gold stars, many thumbs up and a "we're gonna need this again" at last weekend’s Cajun themed BBQ.

The original recipe calls for crawfish, but those just don’t exist in my current hemisphere of residence. I substituted shrimp/prawns with stellar results and I think, crab or lobster meat could be used as well. The only change I recommend would be to only make a half batch in a smaller pan. It’s very rich and little goes a long way.

Crawfish Cheesecake

1 cup finely shredded parmesan cheese
1 cup fine dry bread crumbs
1/2 cup butter, melted
1 cup finely chopped onion
½ cup finely chopped green sweet pepper
½ cup finely chopped red sweet pepper
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon ground black pepper
3 8-ounce packages cream cheese – softened
4 ounces smoked Gouda cheese (1 cup), shredded
3 eggs
1 pound fresh or frozen cooked, shelled crawfish tails packaged with juice or 1 pound cooked, shelled and deveined medium shrimp, coarsely chopped
½ cup whipping cream
Fresh herbs (optional)
Caviar (optional)
Crackers or toasted baguette slices

For crust: In a medium bowl, combine parmesan cheese, bread crumbs and melted butter. Press the mixture into bottom of 9-inch springform pan. Set the crust aside.

In a medium skillet, cook onion and sweet peppers in hot oil over medium heat for 2 minutes (I added a couple of cloves of garlic for good cause). Add salt & black pepper. Cook and stir for 1 more minute. Remove pan from heat. Set aside.

For filling: In a large mixing bowl, beat cream cheese and Gouda with an electric mixer till smooth. Add eggs, beating till just combined (don’t overbeat). Stir in the onion mixture, crawfish tails or shrimp and the whipping cream.

Pour filling into crust. Bake in a 350 degree oven for 1 to 1-1/4 hours or until center appears nearly set when shaken. Cool on a wire rack for 1 hour. Cover; chill at least 2 hours or up to 24 hours in the refrigerator.

To serve, remove sides of pan. With a warm knife, cut into wedges. Serve with crackers or toasted baguette slices. (I sprinkled Creole seasoning on the top before baking. It added a bit of flavor and some color. I also highly recommend serving the cheesecake with the toasted baguettes)

Beef is whats for dinner

2010-05-24T21:39:00.005+09:30

I recently saw this advertisement in the Adelaide Advertiser and laughed out loud. In my previous life, I saw alot of beef ads and I must admit that this is up there with the best. It's up there with Sam Elliott's voice overs. (Sorry those of you at NCBA and Beef Board - Matthew McConaughey is a cutie but he's no Sam Elliott!) I don't agree with their last statement -because grass feed beef tastes too much like grass- but I love the ad concept.

The types a bit small after the scanning process - so I'll tell you what it says:

There are 2 ways to get the best tasting beef,
Spend your life caring for the land or
A few minutes flirting with the butcher.

We'd go with the flirting. Besides, thanks to Aussie farmers the hard works already been done. Their dedication to the land ensures we continue to enjoy the best beef inteh world.

I'll be taking this into my favorite butcher shop this week and asking if I'll get better service this way. Not that I'd ever actually do that sort of thing......

Catch up

2010-05-20T22:27:00.001+09:30

It seems that I never quite got around to posting pictures from our Easter dinner. The reason I know this, is that I went to down load some photos this evening and I discovered the Easter pictures still on the camera. SO – although it’s completely out of season – and I’m feeling guilty for not blogging regularly enough, here’s how we celebrated Easter.

We were invited to the home of our friends Bob and Beth. Not only are they wonderful people and our dear friends, but they have a pool in their backyard. Although the adults all decided 75 degrees wasn't warm enough to swim, the kids didn’t pass up the chance for one last swim for the season.

The adults lounged on the patio next to the pool while the kids splashed.

After a scrumptious dinner, we drank more wine, hid Easter eggs, then watched while the kids hunted Easter eggs. Although the water in the pool was chilly, it was still warm enough that we couldn’t hide the chocolate eggs until right before the kids were ready to hunt or the chocolate would have melted. Hoping out of the pool to hunt Easter eggs - just seems wrong for this Illinois girl.

After the egg hunt, the grownups hunted up an exceptional vintage wine. (those wine snobs in the group - check out the tannins and settlement in this bottle - mmmm.)

A good time was had by all.

The End,

I'm happy not to live in Tennent Creek!

2010-05-18T20:57:00.000+09:30

This is a real news story in real newspaper.

I can't even make this sort of thing up.