Writing update

Hello, ahoy.

I've finished my rewrite, part of the reason I've been quiet lately. Have been reading heaps, watching Big Love from the beginning. I'd caught a few eps years ago and liked it so went back to the beginning. It's amazing how you can be drawn into it, and think it's an okay way to live. Watching it makes me want sister-wives. Crazy, I know. And we've been watching some old Peter Sellers movies.

Have sent the novel to a reader, someone who saw it in very early stages before it was a proper story. See what she says about it, and then back to the agent for submissions.

Am also determined to finish first draft of short novel (the Blade Runner Weather x Spare Room Premise one, is how I think of it, but it's not really.) I have about another 7000 words to write on that one. Last few days I spent working hard on the structure and so it won't take long to fill in the gaps and then move to the next stage.

Tonight we have our annual Tour de France meal. The first stage is in Yorkshire so THANK FUCK we are having a break from French cuisine (running out of things, actually, it's quite a limited range of dishes). We are having it here and I am doing main meal, roast beef with all the trimmings, including Yorkshire puddings. I've never been much of a roast beef cooker, and had never done the puddings so last weekend was a test run. The puddings were stodgier than I'd expected, and I think it's because I used the wrong tray to cook them in. The oil needs to be smoking hot so will use metal tray instead of silicone one tonight. We have Yorkshire beer, and my sister/husband is doing some sort of pudding, not sure if sticky date or similar. I've also got lollies that are originally from Yorkshire: licorice allsorts, jubes, Kit-Kats, etc. And a bottle of Ginger Beer. Bet it's disgusting, so we won't be having lashings of that I don't think.*

So the bikes. Love it, but it means some late nights coming up. Not sure who I'm going for, but not Froome who won last year. Maybe Contador but he's a drug cheat. Quintana who came second last year isn't riding (he won the Giro) and I would probably have gone for him. Cancellara I quite like, but don't know how much of a contender he is. I don't like the Australian team - Orica GreenEdge. There's a German, Marcel Kittel but he's not a General Classification rider. Will be going for him in sprints, don't like Mark Cavendish at all. Funny how you get drawn into it. Sister-wives and men in lycra (hate them on the roads in real life.)

Happy weekend all.

* can anybody pick this literary reference? The mention of tongue sandwiches might help. And 'jolly' and 'smashing' and 'ra-ther.'

That time of year again TIME FOR THE FRENCH DINNER

Tonight we have our annual French meal, as part of the Tour de France obsession I share with my brother-in-law and now my daughter, and which is secondarily tolerated/shared by my sister and my husband, Clokes.

We have our French wines, our non-French cheeses (fuck that, they're too expensive and no one ever really loves them anyway. Let's face it, compared to a King Island Quintriple Brie or a good old Castello Bleu, you can't beat that?)

They are doing main, I am doing dessert and in about ten minutes (as soon as I've finished my Internet Ablutions) I'll decide whether it will be cherry clafoutis or tarte tartin.

This year I'm dressing in yellow. Need to pop to the op shop to try to find something that will complement my yellow cardigan. I told Clokes I am wearing 'as all yellow as possible' and he said: Great, I'll wear my red, white and blue striped top (that we got at 'Tomy [sic] Pony' in Hong Kong. Not Polo and not Tommy Hilfiger - a kind of blend, you know. He knows I hate him wearing those 'fucking polo tops' but he also knew I couldn't say anything because he'd mentioned the tri-couleurs. Smart.

It was quite the big week. I had four teaching gigs, including a new school (primary) and then secondary schools. Thursday was a big day, taught back to back 8.40am to 1.30pm with an hour off in the middle which was cannibalised by me driving home in between, grabbing some fruit, refilling my water bottle, going to the toilet, offloading some materials from first sessions and getting back in the car. I know you love these details; I'm here for you.

Then yesterday I spent ages online working out which Melbourne Writers Festival sessions to go to. The last few years nothing has interested me but this year, fuck. There are HEAPS so I have booked for a bunch of sessions and if I go to the Trivia Night and the Closing Party (unlikely) I'll attend 16 sessions over the ten days or whatever it is, mostly two weekends. Man.

I also might have some writerly news in the next couple of weeks. Not to do with the book, but something short storyish. I've been shortlisted in a local thing which is a big deal, with a wide-circulation. Publication is 'likely but not - as yet - definite' so I am excited, I have cracked a bottle of The Widow to celebrate the shortlisting, but I'm trying to keep it low-key until I have confirmation.

But likely to be published? They wouldn't say that unless it was, er, likely, would they?

Better go and look at the recipes. This was my week, how was yours? What are you reading? Are you happy? Are you wearing yellow? How is the weather? Any holidays on the horizon? What do you think of the POLITICS AT THE MOMENT? Or should we not go there. It is quite the exhausting subject and as I've demonstrated above, it's possible to live in the light and keep things happy.

I'm back, and talk about feral

1. I have a dreadlock and while that in itself is pretty rank, what's even ranker is I didn't realise until yesterday. YESTERDAY. This is a thing that's as thick as a sausage and is so tightly bound up it makes that section of my hair look a full 4 inches shorter.* Today I intend to get in the shower with plenty of conditioner and a wide-tooth comb. And take care of it. I promise.

2. I have no clean underwear. Which means I own precisely 15 pairs of undies.

3. I just realised both my bras need a wash too. And I'm teaching in two days. And I've already done three loads of washing. Maybe I can wear my sports bra.

4. My bowels were bad for a full ten days then they started to go to normal, very quickly. The good thing is that I didn't drink alcohol for that time. The bad thing is I couldn't try the Tuna Tartare and artichoke salad until yesterday.

5. I didn't get sunburned which is good cause I'm getting a thingy cut out on Friday from my back. It's the second thingy, it's not a bad thingy, just one of those basal cell thingies.

6. We watched the Tour every night on the Eurosport station. Commentators Carlton Kirby (come to think of it, I didn't get to see what he looks like.) To google...

Hey, exactly what I imagined.


 And Sean Kelly, we did see. He is hilarious and made us laugh every time he was on.

That's Sean on the left below, he rocks when he speaks and does not have eye contact with anyone other than the road when he talks. We love him. On the right hand side is the unintelligible someone else who does interviews and then there's a really annoying girl who gets flirty eyes with the spunky riders, especially Marcel Kittel.
 


Princess loved sprinter Sagan last year but has dropped him to go for Kittel. I think this is partly because Sagan has a bad facial hair situation going on, and partly because Kittel looks like this:



 Princess: He's a hot Aryan. I love him.

Come on, she's 16. This is to be expected, I suppose.

The other big thing was we realised that Cadel's chin cleft is angled which is very disconcerting. I am still hopeful he will 'do something' but Princess has moved on.

So tonight we have to make do with SBS, and two hours later. It's going to be tough but I'm determined. This week is mountain week and it will be exciting and then on Saturday we have our usual TdeF meal with my sis and bro-in-law all the talk is chamois and sticky bibons, who is pottier (Carlton versus Phil Liggett) and who has the calves which can best be compared to the size and hardness of frozen chickens (probably Andre Greipel.) We will eat, I think, duck cassoulet, eat some French cheese and drink some French wine. Dessert is undecided but I will let you know, bien sur.




* I had dreadlocks in my early 20s for a period of about 6 months. I just stopped brushing my hair and kept washing it and they started. I thought I'd have to get them cut out when I was sick of them but in fact managed to comb them out. It took all day, in sessions, and much patience. When I told this to Princess she almost gagged and physically recoiled when I made her touch my dreadlock.

P: OH, you were one of those people.
Me: I was one of those people BEFORE those people existed.
P: Those people have always existed, Mum.

Glad that's over with for another year

We have been more heavily into this than in past years. Before it was the food and our annual 'Franch' meal however this year the beginning of the race coincided with my and Princess's trip north. She got more knowledgeable about it than moi, in about half a day, she seemed to know all their names, all the team names and colours, what all the maillot colours mean. She had a short list of faves, particularly she was into the Germans because she enjoyed saying their surnames so much. Over and over.

The funny thing is we didn't even watch it last year, when Cadellikins (as P calls him) won. I had seen him complete tour after tour in previous years, wearing the yellow then losing it. Dominating on the mountains, but never quite getting there. As Princess said: Why didn't we watch last year? I can't remember why, perhaps I was busy with this or that. Certainly I would have been writing.

So we are pumped for next year. And I have to say, I went from hating Wiggins to not minding him. I was annoyed by the cyborg Sky team who seemed to crush all in their path and never had any facial expressions, who always positioned themselves in the front in a vee, protecting their man (like they're meant to) but there was an arrogance.

One last thing: AG2R La Mondiale PLEASE do something about the pants next year.

curtain update, plus TOUR dinner

SO, this morning I thought I was on the home stretch, but no. I managed to fuck up the curtains. Not badly, mind you. But I was sewing the tape across the top (which has threads which you pull to make the curtain gather) and I stupidly pulled one end without sewing off the other end. There was a reason for this: I had bent a needle on the very thick part of the curtain where there are several layers of lining and fabric, so I just wanted to make sure the needle was performing properly before I did that maneuver again.

Stupido!

Anyway, I went onto the other curtain, to finish, and with THAT one, the pulling thread snapped after I'd pulled them and tied them off. Grrrr.

So a little behind, I thought they'd be finished this morning. But I have to unpick the rooted tape and buy more and sew it on and blah de blah.

*

Saturday night. I couldn't go to the birthday party of my equal first favourite poet-blogger because like last year, we had our Tour de France meal planned. We drank French champagne (really, I can't taste the difference), French onion soup, I made coq au vin which was very nice, accompanied with rich buttery mash and green broad beans and a French burgundy, then we had Poires Au Savon (or something) which were baked pears with cream, vanilla and something else. I only cooked the coq. We watched some bikes but it wasn't a very interesting stage. Oh well. Then yesterday we took the dogs and children to the river at Yarra Bend for a run and the sunshine was glorious. Back home early yesterday and had left-over coq on steamed rice, while watching Friday night's taped Masterchef, and then the final.

*

My shoulder is bothering me still. Has been for ages. I'm going for an ultrasound on Wednesday. Physio hasn't helped as I'd thought it would, plus it's been well more than a year that I've had this bung shoulder/arm thing happening. I hope it's nothing bad.

so, it's that time of year again.

it's time to do the french thing.

this time of year, the mind turns to french desserts and what other kind of main meal there might be that's not boeuf bourgignon, that's not belgian, that's french enough for our once-a-year tour de france night. minds turn to the bottle of absinth that is packed away in storage, left-over from the tour meal two years ago. hearts turn to cheese, and lots of it.

i know the tour is on every night for many nights at the moment (is it 2 weeks? 3? so shoot me, i don't know, i'm not a complete tour-head) and many of us are up until 1am, watching the boys in their lycra, and trying not to stare at their bulging crotches (some of us that is; others don't really care. about staring.)

so this year it's at my sister's, and they are doing main and i have said i will take dessert. for us and the kids. the kids don't get to eat the real french food. we fob them off with a quick pasta bake or something.

i've decided to make creme brulee, which was the dessert that we always ate in paris when we were there. it's like being in an italian restaurant. if they have tiramisu, we had to have that too.

so i've got the ingredients, i've got the little ramekins. i've got the friggin expensive vanilla beans. i don't have the blow torch cause i thought i'd see how i go just grilling them.

the test run is tonight. and the plan is to make meringues with the egg whites (because the brulees only require the yolks.)

so, that's the food.

last night was the second night for the tour to be passing through the mountains. i watched until 11.30, and by then i'd had my fill of crotches and it was making me tired just watching these dudes cycling up the mountain. how on earth do they do it. i reckon they are machines, they would just have to do that, and when they're not riding, they wouldn't be able to have a conversation with anyone, they'd be too used-up, don't you think? do they have wives? i know cadel does, she plays the piano or is a singer or something, but do you reckon she's over there? it seems such a hard thing to be doing, riding a bicycle up a mountain. he wouldn't be able to go back to the hotel and summon a smile for his wife, would he? would he be up for a romantic dinner on the terrace, with champagne and then some lovin'?

i think not.

i've blogged about the tour before*, but i have more questions now.

1. why are their crotches so prominent and big? my sister said that a few days ago one of the men had a big stiffy. BIG. HUGE. she said it was really distracting. i wonder if he was wearing white lycra. i bet he was. i swear, sometimes i reckon i can see the different parts of part, if you know what i mean in the white-suit boys.

2. the rest of them are so skinny. i know they probably have to consume three times as many calories or whatever than the rest of us who are sitting around on our arses. but they are still really skinny, in the arms mostly.

3. it bothers me that they just throw their rubbish to the side of the road - drink bottles, everything. i know people probably clean this up, do the cars do it? but what if they miss a few drink bottles. that hard plastic is just so bad, so ugly, and france is so pretty.

4. i still don't get how it works. when cadel had his crash and they were talking about robbie mc ewan (?) dropping back to get anti-inflammatories from the doctor and then taking them up to cadel. how does that work? wouldn't he have to be a better rider than cadel to drop back then catch up?

5. what do these people do for the rest of the year? there'd be other races, lots of other races i guess. do they travel the circuit like tennis players? how do the teams work? do they team up for certain races, and in other groups for others? are any races just a normal A to B first over the line wins race?

6. would you serve something with the creme brulee? probably not. i'll get some cheese i think for later when we are watching the race.

* several posts, july 2006 if you can be bothered looking.