A Fifth a Day (or close enough)

This year's reading started out slow.  I barely finished a book in January, and only three in February.  Then March came and I took off with nine books in a month!  I was so surprised.  I try for four books a month (48 books a year) and this year, I finished book 48 on September 28.  I have never met my goal without using a few novellas on December 31 before (and that always felt like cheating).  I was pumped!  And I just kept reading.  In the end, I read 65 books this year, including finally finishing The Bible.

I had never read The Bible in its entirety and I wanted to.  Last year, 2012, I started a Bible-in-a-Year reading plan.  I was doing very well until I hit the Epistles of Paul and I got stuck.  I was mired in them.  I just could not make myself go any further and truthfully, I do not believe that The Bible is something you should force yourself to read, or something to be read under protest.  So I shelved the Good Book until such a time as I was in a better frame of mind to read the remainder.  Advent came and I found myself wanting to finish The Bible, so I pulled it out and continued with the reading plan from where I left off.  I was so glad I waited.  I am positive I got more out of that reading than I would have if I had forced myself to finish last year.

But even so, I feel I am fudging just a bit to claim 65 books for this year, but even without the 65th, I am very pleased with myself!  Averaged out my reading comes to 0.18 books per day or just under 1/5 of a book per day.  That is a very good total!

I am not expecting to read this many books in 2014, but I'm certainly going to try.

The books of 2013:

1. The Woman Who Died A Lot -- Fforde, Jasper
2. Captain Corelli's Mandolin -- de Bernières, Louis
3. The Big Cat Nap -- Brown, Rita Mae
4. Wormwood -- Albert, Susan Wittig
5. Holly Blues -- Albert, Susan Wittig
6. Mourning Gloria -- Albert, Susan Wittig
7. The Treacherous Teddy -- Lamb, John J.
8. Calm, Cool, and Adjusted -- Billerbeck, Kristin
9. Raisins and Almonds -- Greenwood, Kerry
10. Between Heaven and Hell -- Kreeft, Peter*
11. A Stranger in Mayfair -- Finch, Charles
12. An East End Murder -- Finch, Charles*
13. A Burial at Sea -- Finch, Charles
14. Royal Flush -- Bowen, Rhys
15. Royal Blood -- Bowen, Rhys
16. Naughty in Nice -- Bowen, Rhys
17. Masked Ball at Broxley Manor -- Bowen, Rhys*
18. A Carol for a Corpse -- Bishop, Claudia
19. Toast Mortem -- Bishop, Claudia
20. Chocolate Wars:  From Cadbury to Kraft - 200 Years of Sweet Success and Bitter Rivalry -- Cadbury, Deborah
21. Face Down O'er the Border -- Emerson, Kathy Lynn
22. Death Before Wicket -- Greenwood, Kerry
23. A Death in Gascony -- D'Almeida, Sarah
24. Dying by the Sword -- D'Almeida, Sarah
25. The Ninth Daughter -- Hamilton, Barbara
26. The Cat Next Door -- Babson, Marian
27. So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish -- Adams, Douglas
28. Sweet Revenge -- Penrose, Andrea
29. The Cocoa Conspiracy -- Penrose, Andrea
30. Recipe for Treason -- Penrose, Andrea
31. Away with the Fairies -- Greenwood, Kerry
32. In the Teeth of Adversity -- Babson, Marian
33. Monsieur Pamplemousse Stands Firm -- Bond, Michael
34. Monsieur Pamplemousse on Location -- Bond, Michael
35. Murder in the Museum -- Brett, Simon
36. Monsieur Pamplemousse Takes the Train -- Bond, Michael
37. Grand Days -- Moorhouse, Frank
38. A Wee Christmas Homicide -- Dunnett, Kaitlyn
39. The Corpse Wore Tartan -- Dunnett, Kaitlyn
40. Murder in Montparnasse -- Greenwood, Kerry
41. The Castlemaine Murders -- Greenwood, Kerry
42. Queen of the Flowers -- Greenwood, Kerry
43. Death by Water -- Greenwood, Kerry
44. The Westing Game -- Raskin, Ellen
45. Plato and a Platypus Walk into a Bar ... Understanding Philosophy Through Jokes -- Cathcart, Thomas & Daniel M. Klein
46. A Disappearance in Drury Lane -- Gardner, Ashley*
47. Scotched -- Dunnett, Kaitlyn
48. Pane of Death -- Atwell, Sarah
49. Sneaky Pie for President -- Brown, Rita Mae & Sneaky Pie Brown
50. The Mysterious Benedict Society -- Stewart, Trenton Lee
51. Murder in Burnt Orange -- Dams, Jeanne M.
52. The Secret Life of Evie Hamilton -- Alliott, Catherine
53. Chocolate Dipped Death -- Carter, Sammi
54. Penelope Goes to Portsmouth -- Beaton, M.C.
55. Scoop! -- Dennison, Hannah
56. The Amber Room -- Berry, Steve
57. Killer Mousse -- Wells, Melinda
58. Blind Dates Can Be Murder -- Clark, Mindy Starns
59. Elementary, My Dear Watkins -- Clark, Mindy Starns
60. The Alpine Pursuit -- Daheim, Mary
61. The Alpine Quilt -- Daheim, Mary
62. The Alpine Recluse -- Daheim, Mary
63. The Whole Enchilada -- Davidson, Diane Mott
64. A Study in Scarlet & The Sign of the Four -- Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir
65. The Bible

Best of the Year:  Murder in Montparnasse, with Captain Corelli's Mandolin a close second

Worst of the Year:  The Treacherous Teddy, followed closely by The Amber Room

Up and Down, All Around the Town

Friday, October 11, 2013 (Ville Quebec)

Friday, we had planned to have lunch at a little hole-in-the-wall place we like, we called “Everything on a Belgian Waffle” and Mom wanted to visit the Plains of Abraham and ride the Funicular down to lower town.  We knew of a different pharmacy in Lower Town and wanted to check to see if it had a different selection than the one we found in Upper Town.  So we planned to head to the Funicular and then back up to lunch, and lastly to the Plains of Abraham.  My younger brother was off to a shopping center about a 2 mile walk (uphill and upstairs!) in search of jeans and other clothes.

Stepping out of the hotel, we knew it was a busy day in Ville Quebec!  Overnight the population doubled or tripled.  Two cruise ships had arrived for an overnight stop and a good number of the passengers for the cruises leaving Saturday had arrived.  I was so glad we had come up early and got the city relatively empty.  Tour buses and tourists were everywhere!  We headed straight to the Funicular, and luckily no-one was going to Lower Town at this hour, so we had a car to ourselves.  Black Tar Spot has really hit the beautiful maple trees along the Funicular path hard.  The articles I read online indicate that it is not harmful to the tree, merely unsightly on the leaves.  I can’t comment on harm to the trees, but it is definitely unsightly.  Despite the infected trees, it was a beautiful ride and much nicer than walking down the stairs!

We headed out to where we knew the pharmacy was, only to find it is no longer a pharmacy, it’s a cafe/nightclub.  That part of the trip wasted, we turned back to the Funicular, in the process wandering through a souvenir shopping area.  My mother found a gorgeous scarf for my mother-in-law and she debated a t-shirt for herself.  Then it was back up the Funicular to Upper Town and a wander around until lunch-time.  We found lunch at the “Everything on a Belgian Waffle” place we like.  I had a Pizza Plus waffle -- tomato sauce, ham, peppers, onions, and mushrooms with cheese on a waffle.  Mom had a Monsieur waffle with ham, tomatoes and cheese, and Dad had a Madame waffle with ham, mushrooms and cheese.  After waffles, we crossed the street to the maple delights store we had stopped in before and picked up a bag of the pressed maple sugar lozenges for me as well as some macarons for Mom and a surprise for my brother.

We were a bit tired after that and decided to head back to the hotel for a lie-down before heading out to the Plains of Abraham.  That turned out to be a very good idea, as I was beginning to come down with something and was already getting quite tired.  We found that my brother had not left yet, and we gave him his maple treats while explaining the plan for the afternoon.  My brother said he was still planning on heading shopping so after our lie-down we’d all head out to our separate adventures, and then meet again for dinner at one of the pubs in town.

And that was what we did.  After a nice nap Mom, Dad, and I set out for the Plains of Abraham.  In past visits, there had been a lovely diorama of the Plains and surrounding area and some exhibits explaining the Battle for Quebec.  We enjoyed it, and Mom has been fascinated with the Plains since she read a children’s book Mystery in Old Quebec where the children play on the plains and find themselves caught up in a mystery.  We were a bit disappointed to find that the diorama had been moved to parts unknown, but pleasantly surprised that a new presentation explaining the battle and the history of not only Quebec City, but also an overview of Canadian history.  After the presentation, there was a display centered around the Battle on the Plains of Abraham.  It was a very informative afternoon.

(chipmunk that dashed across the steps just as we were walking in)

(the black squirrel was a little reluctant to pose for me)

We headed back to the hotel to meet up with my brother and then decide on dinner.  We wanted to try a pub-style restaurant because we wanted comfort food, or at the very least a good soup.  We thought first to try the Pub St.-Alexandre, but they were full, had at least a 20 minute wait, and live music starting in 10 minutes.  We opted to pass on that one.  So down the street to the Pub St. Patrick.  Success!  A table inside with no wait (it was growing chillier by the minute and one of our party neglected to pack a coat), and soups and a menu that offered something for everyone.  I had a veal burger with a cranberry chutney, fries and a bowl of one of the best butternut squash soups ever.  Mom had the same thing.  Dad had a standard burger with a bowl of French onion soup, and my brother had the French onion soup followed by the waiter’s suggestion of traditional fish & chips.  After the leisurely meal, the one of us without a coat decided he was going to have to buy one, so he went in search of the department store he had seen earlier in our explorations, and Mom, Dad, and I went back to the boulangerie/patisserie we had lunch the day before to test out the gelato there.  I had a medium bowl of blood orange sorbet (orange sanguine), and Dad had a large bowl of pink grapefruit sorbet (pamplemousse).  Mom’s not a big ice cream fan, so she had a lemon meringue tart (citron tarte).  My throat was beginning to hurt, and the gelato was just the thing I wanted, even grapefruit gelato.  Not long after we finished our desserts, my brother met us there and he decided he needed dessert too, and picked a vanilla creme Napoleon (mille-feuille).  After that, it was a leisurely walk back to the hotel where I repacked my suitcase to board the cruise the next day.  My parents headed back to their room to do the same, and my brother went back out to take some night-scape pictures around the city.

It was a relatively early night for me, though I do admit to staying up far too late to watch stupid reality shows on what is nominally The Learning Channel.

An Easy Day in Quebec

Thursday, October 10, 2013 (Ville Quebec)

The day began early with a shower and then it was off to the post office to mail my absentee ballot for the October 19 election and after that to take Mom and Dad to the pharmacy to pick up some last minute items and then to meet my younger brother for lunch.

Wandering around, we decided on lunch at a combination boulangerie/patisserie/cafe/gelateria.  It was quite good.  I had a roast beef sandwich with horseradish sauce, sliced red onions, tomatoes, and Swiss cheese.  My mother indulged in the house salad and a cup of vegetable soup.  My father had a ham & cheese croissant while my younger brother tested out a classic Quebecois smoked meat sandwich and a bowl of curried carrot soup.  After our leisurely meal, Mom said she wanted to join the macaron craze and I got her two.  Well, she was hooked!

My brother and I knew of a Maple Delights shop just a bit down the street and we went there to get some interesting maple products not really available in other areas.   I indulged in a maple butter cream frosted cookie, a maple sugar fleur de lis candy, a maple sugar hard lolly drop, and a pressed maple sugar lozenge.  My brother had a maple sugar sprinkled cookie, and a bucket of maple sugar cotton candy, and got a bag of maple sugar hard lolly drops for later.  Mom found that the maple shop had macarons and indulged in a couple more (she judged them better than the ones at lunch).

After our procuring candy indulgences, we headed back to the hotel for a lie-down.  Travel takes a lot out of you and we were all still recovering -- and one of us was getting sick, but more on that later.  My brother rested a bit, but then went out and about to take some pictures and explore on his own.  He was in search of new clothes and wanted to see what was on offer in the shops in Quebec.  I took a nap until about 5 when it was time to get up and dress for dinner.

We had planned to have dinner at an Italian restaurant we found on a previous visit which is a gentle walk from hotel.  The restaurant is in an historic house along one of Quebec’s most fashionable avenues.  It’s a a semi-casual restaurant, just the kind of place to have a good meal without fuss.  Wednesday night’s meal was good, and enjoyable, but it was a bit frou-frou for us and the atmosphere of La Vieille Maison du Spaghetti was just what we needed and wanted.  I started my meal with a sparking mineral water, served with lime-studded ice cubes, and then had an order of the house bruschetta, which I always think is really the Italian version of “chips and salsa.”  After that I moved on to three cheese tortellini with a creamy tomato sauce.  My brother started with a Caesar salad and then moved to the “Specialty du Maison” which was a fusion of spaghetti and meatballs, lasagne, and manicotti then baked in the oven until the topping of blended cheeses is bubbly and brown.  My mother started with a stuffed mushrooms and then created a perfect-for-her salad from the house salad bar before moving on to the fettuccine of the day --  Italian sausage and peppers in a mildly spicy fresh tomato sauce.  My Dad started with minestrone and a personalized salad bar creation before moving on to the same cheese tortellini I had.  Mom and Dad had creme caramel for dessert, while my brother and I had the house specialty sugar pie -- a maple syrup custard with maple caramel drizzle.  I say you can never get enough maple syrup and might as well indulge this close to the source.

After that really nice dinner, we took a leisurely stroll back to the hotel, passing Quebec’s Parliament House and the surroundings gardens before wandering through the Saint-Louis Gate and into the walled Old City.  From there it was a quick, downhill walk to the hotel.  Once at the hotel, I got ready for bed and then logged on with the hotel’s wifi to check in with my dearest, who unfortunately could not make this trip with me.  I was in bed relatively early and asleep before I knew it.

The Last 144 Miles (After the First 10,357)

Wednesday, October 9, 2013 (Montreal, Ville Quebec)

Wednesday dawned about 8, which meant I got between 5 and 6 hours of sleep.  It was good for me, because I felt wide awake and rested, though I knew I would crash relatively early come nightfall.  I wasn’t quite ready to check out of the hotel, and I wanted a shower to get the travel grime off, so I did that and then lazed a bit checking out Canadian tv.  I found an interesting cooking show on a channel with descriptive audio for the blind and sight-impaired.  The host was making chocolate pastry and then using that for other things -- cookies, tarts, and pies.  I have to look up some of her recipes because they looked very good.  The descriptive audio was interesting, at first I didn’t understand what it was or why it was there, but then there was an informative ad about the differences between being able to see the action and only hearing it.  After the cooking show a men’s talk show came on so I flicked around some until it was time to head over to the airport.  I had a 1:30 flight and an 11:00 check-out time.  I had plenty of time to scout out the airport.  I have actually only ever been through the US arrivals/departures area of Trudeau Airport, so it was interesting to be in the domestic area.  But first I had to get there.

(I try not to be too messy)

(not a bad view)

As I mentioned, the hotel is above the US terminal, but since I was told such by the Front Desk Clerk and the signage is less than informative, I assumed that any Air Canada check-in desk was as good as any other.  That was incorrect.  But the lady behind the desk was helpful, and directed me to walk the length of the airport once again to get to the Air Canada Domestic check-in desk.  I found it after not too long a walk and was immediately directed to the self-check-in terminals.  Again, because I had an unusual situation, with bags already ticketed to Quebec City, but no boarding pass, I tried to explain to the lady that I needed to talk to an actual person.  It was a bit of a battle, but finally she grudgingly agreed to let me into the line to see an agent.  The agent was surprised that the bags were checked through to Quebec City, but I was not issued a boarding pass for the Quebec City flight, and I had no explanation.  Finally, after several discussions and many non-explanations on my part, she agreed to re-scanned my checked bag, enter the number in the Air Canada system and issue my boarding pass.  She took my checked bag (which weighed in at 20.6 kilos, 2.4 kilos under the weight limit!) and directed me to Gate 34.

I knew I was flying on a small, turbo-prop plane, so I figured I would not be in the area with gates for larger planes, but I was surprised at just how far I had to go and how few services there were when I got there.  But first I had to pass security.  After snaking through the lines -- why do they always make you snake through the whole maze of barriers, even when there are few people going through? -- I came to the end where I was instructed to stand on a mat facing a screen which after a moment of processing directed me to a security lane by means of an arrow.  It was the most interesting process for determining lanes I have seen.  I got in the line and took out my computer, zippy bag of small liquids/gels and took off my coat.  I had everything else ready to push through the machine, but the attendant had me put everything in buckets, so I did that while he scanned my boarding pass and swiped my stuff with a detector swab.  Green lights came back on both scans so I was allowed to go forward and await my stuff on the other side of the x-ray machine.  That was a slow and laborious process, and in a surprise, the buckets did not come out of the machine in the order they went in.  My stuff was interspersed with three other people’s stuff.  I was not sure how or when that magic re-arranging occurred.  It remains an unexplained mystery of Montreal Airport Security.

Having cleared all the security checks and re-packed my stuff, I went in search of my gate -- which was through a construction area, down a long moving sidewalk in a relatively empty area and then up a set of escalators.  When I finally got to the gate, I found that the long moving sidewalk actually took me under part of the taxiway to another terminal.  And looking out the windows, I found the plane was there waiting for us, and it was a smaller turbo prop than I imagined.  I would actually have to walk out on the tarmac and up steps to board the plane.  But that process was still 2 hours away and I was hungry.

So I re-traced my path and came upon a helpful security agent who told me that if I exited through the signs marked exit, I would not have to clear security again in order to find food. But I was welcome to exit through to path marked taxis, though I would have to re-clear security in that case.  That sorted, I headed up in search of a place to linger.  I found a Moe’s Tavern.  It was just what I wanted.  I eventually selected a bacon cheese burger on a pretzel bun served with fries and a glass of iced tea.  My waiter was attentive and my meal was in front of me before I expected it.  I was in no hurry, so I took my time and started the book I had been carrying since Tuesday back in Melbourne.  I also checked out the hockey on the big screens and people watched a bit.  Just as I was finishing my burger, Prince’s When Doves Cry was playing on the audio system in the tavern.  My waiter must be a fan, because he was singing along, but he was singing the words in French.  I must have smiled a bit too much at that because he blushed a bit and headed off to look busy.  As I was finishing my fries, he came by and asked if I would like a bottle of water for the plane, and because I had planned to get one anyway, I accepted the offer.  I got my bill and paid, heading off to see if I could find anything else I needed for the flight and I did find a bottle of antacid to help calm the acid reflux I was experiencing.  The flight was scheduled for an hour gate to gate and I knew at the end I would be meeting my parents at a Tim Horton’s so I didn’t see the need for snacks, but I was thinking I needed something to help settle the burning in my throat.  The antacids worked.  And with that I headed back to the auxiliary terminal to wait for boarding.

When it came time to board, I was afraid my carry-on bags would be oversized and have to be gate checked, but as it turned out, they were not.  I was happy about that, because I had things arranged and there was not really room to rearrange to move my computer, which was among the items specifically listed to be removed from gate-checked bags.  The plane was a bit delayed getting off because there was a computer error and the flight had one too many passengers on the plane, though everyone was issued a boarding pass.  Finally after both the ground crew and the flight attendant checked everyone’s boarding passes four times, the situation was sorted out and the door was closed and we were off.  I was seated next to a really nice lady who had just arrived from Brussels that morning and was going home to see family.  She was enjoying the trip as it was the first trip home she had taken without her children in 6 years.  We had a nice chat on the plane and continued it at baggage claim until both our bags arrived next to each other on the carousel.  There we parted company -- her to her mother, and me to my brother, who were waiting just outside the baggage claim area.  He and my parents had arrived about a hour before me and we had decided it was just as easy for them to wait for me at the airport rather than head to the hotel.

I met up with Mom and Dad and had a bit of a chat before moving on to the taxi rank.  We found a taxi suitable for four with a good bit of luggage and were off on the way to the hotel.  It was a quick trip, made a bit harrowing by other drivers, but I think that’s to be expected in taxis.  Upon arrival at the hotel we created quite a rush and the front desk agents asked several times whether we were all together or separate parties.  Check-in complete we arrived at our rooms and contemplated a rest.  But I needed a few things and was still too awake to rest well, so my brother and I headed out in search of a pharmacy and to scout out dinner locations.  We found the restaurant that had an offer with of 10% off the total bill to hotel guests, and we decided it looked very nice for dinner.  Then we found the tourist information center for information on the closest pharmacy.  Successfully armed with that information, off we went.  After getting what we needed, we took a leisurely walk back to the hotel along the wall, and by then I was tired enough to rest, though I did not sleep.

We met my parents at 5 for dinner and we directed them to the restaurant we thought looked promising:  Restaurant Pain Béni.  They checked the menu and agreed.  We had a lovely, leisurely  dinner.  I had a tasting menu consisting of three appetizers:  gravalax with cream, a tomato tart with balsamic vinegar jelly, and a pulled pork slider with onion rings and house-made pickles.  My younger brother opted for a tasting menu with a hearts of romaine wedge salad, the tomato tart, and the pulled pork slider.  My mother had a three-course meal with cream of tomato soup, garlic grilled shrimp over herb risotto, and a creme brûlée dessert.  My father opted for the three-course menu as well, but chose French onion soup with caramelized red onions and maple syrup, house-made pappardelle with a lamb and vegetable ragout and the creme brûlée for dessert.  We also shared a pot of Earl Grey tea to round out the meal.

After dinner we visited a bit in my room, but not very long because we had all had long days of travel.  I was asleep before 9:30.  I stirred briefly about 2, but then slept straight through to 8 when I woke bright eyed and bushy-tailed for the day.

Tuesday in Three Commonwealth Countries

Tuesday, October 8, 2013 (Melbourne, Auckland, Vancouver, Montreal)

It was a fitful night, but they always are in a strange bed and before a big trip.  I was awake at 5:30, and just could not get back to sleep.  I tossed and turned until 6:00, when I finally gave up and decided to have a shower.  Why, oh why do hotel amenity companies make the lids to the bottles of shampoo/conditioner/shower gel/lotion so tiny and fiddly?  Hotel showers usually have too few surfaces on which to place the bottles to begin with and then you have to deal with the fiddly, slick, tiny caps with wet hands and no where to put them!  And why do hotel bath mats always get wrinkled up under the shower doors?  And why are hotel bathroom floors always made of the slickest tiles in the world?

Okay enough unanswerable design questions.  Despite the fiddly cap, the shampoo was actually very nice, as was the bar soap.  And I got clean and avoided waking dearest in the process.  After the shower, I finished my morning ablutions and climbed back onto the bed to watch the airport come alive.  Actually, that’s wrong -- the airport never really sleeps.  And certainly not an international airport with 24-hours flights like Melbourne has.

When dearest finally woke, I was practically ready to head over to the terminal to check-in.  I had seriously considered just sneaking out while he was still sleeping, but that would have worried him and then I would have worried about worrying him and a vicious cycle of worry would have resulted.  So in the end, I tried to stay pretty quiet, but I will admit, I failed.  Dearest took his time getting up and ready but he was ready on time to head over for me to check in for my flight.

It is my considered opinion that there are many places where self-service is appropriate.  But are are many others where you want and need personal interaction with actual people.  Check-in desks for international flights are one of the latter.  I understand self-check-in is cheaper and probably quicker, but I want an actual person to check me in.  If for no other reason than that a person can be sure the person checking in and presenting the passport is truly the person named on the ticket.  It’s a win-win for travelers and security.  Because I was booked in Premium Economy for one leg of my flights, I had the option of checking in at the desk with a person and I took it.  It was far less stressful for me, and frankly, don’t the airlines want passengers to be as relaxed as possible -- stressed people are far more irritable, it’s a more pleasant experience for everyone.

After check-in I left dearest fairly quickly in the check-in area and then headed to the evil departure doors where I cleared security and passport control fairly easily, though there is never enough time or space to re-pack and re-settle after the security screening.  Even when you have everything pared down as much as possible it’s rushed and tight in the security screening area.

Having cleared security, I moved on to passport control where it was a fairly easy process, and the agent was friendly, even telling me I could abbreviate on the departing passenger declaration form.  I answered I prefer to write it out all the way, and he laughed “Oh, you’re one of THOSE people.”  It was a bright spot in the process.

I made a stop at the currency exchange to get enough New Zealand cash to get some water and flight snacks while I was transiting through, and they declared that it was really not worth changing the money, but they couldn’t be sure that my Australian money would be taken.  So I changed over just enough anyway.

Then I made my way through the duty-free shops to my gate -- with a stop for a rather disappointing raspberry & white chocolate muffin.  And here I am, about to close up my computer to board the first of four flights in the next 24 hours.  More when there is time.

Interesting observation of the day:  Abalone-flavoured macadamia nuts.  Just WHY?

The flight to Auckland was full, but not uncomfortable.  It was a four-hour flight, and they served a meal, even to economy-class passengers.  I was amazed.  I didn’t have the meal, as I was still full from my muffin, but I did have a ginger ale when they came around with the drinks cart.  The great in-flight entertainment system made it seem like a fairly quick flight -- I watched most of episodes of the latest season of The Big Bang Theory I had not seen.  It was a bit bumpy landing in New Zealand, but still a relative smooth flight.  We were at the gate right next door to the international connections security screening, which was quick and easy.  And then it was on to the International Departures lounge.  I checked out some of the shops and bought some plane snacks, along with two bottles of water for the next, long flight, and then went in search of actual food.  Sad to say, what I found that sounded good was Burger King.  It was a Burger King burger and onion rings, but it was what I wanted at the time -- and bottle of water (#3 for the day -- 500 ml with my muffin, and 500 ml on the flight, and this was 750 ml).  I had 2 more 500 ml bottles for the upcoming long flight.  After eating, I had a bit more wander about because my flight’s gate was not yet posted.  I finally found the gate and headed down to board the flight.  It was pretty easy and I was a Premium Economy passenger so I got to board early and have plenty of time to settle myself.  I was pleased to find an amenity kit on my seat along with a pillow and a blanket.  I love the amenity kits -- mainly for the socks.  I am always in need of warm socks for in bed.  I got mostly settled and waited for the section to fill, but it never did.  I heard the flight manager say that the flight was less than half full.  In the Premium Economy section, everyone had a row to themselves and I was lucky because the row ahead of me was empty as was the row across the aisle from me.  So I got plenty of room!  And an extra in-flight entertainment screen to leave on the flight tracker.  There is nothing that can make a 13 1/2 hour flight good or comfortable, but this one was one of the better ones I’d been on.  We had excellent service, and because there were so few passengers, we got First Class meals.  That was a nice treat and Premium Economy on this plane got to use the First Class lavatories rather than walking toward the back of the plane.  This was very nice, because in addition to the 2 500 ml bottles of water I carried on with me, I had 4 more on the plane.  The flight attendants kept bringing me bottles and I kept drinking them.  That totaled 4 3/4 litres of water for the day!  But it did keep me up and down and walking around on the long flight.

The entertainment system on this flight was not quite as good as on the shorter one to Auckland, but still it was fairly good.  I watched Mrs. Doubtfire, but then plugged in my iPod so I could fall asleep to whatever was playing and not worry about having to pay attention.  Even with the noise, I slept fitfully, but I suppose that’s to be expected.  The flight got a bit bumpy over the mid-Pacific (around Hawaii) and I’m always a bit nervous in bumpy air, so that woke me pretty well, and then I just could not get comfortable again until about an hour out from Vancouver.  Thankfully, the stewards did not wake me when they left the last bottle of water -- I had to leave it on the plane as I was clearing security again and security would take it off me.

I had never been through Vancouver airport, and was pleasantly surprised!  Hands down, Vancouver is the prettiest, lightest, most well-signed airport I have ever been through.  Customs and passport control was a breeze, even with many people in line.  I had a question about the customs form because I was bringing tea into the country and I wasn’t sure if I needed to declare that as food or plant material, and the lady was very helpful and said, no.  As long as it was not a meat or animal product, live plant or seeds capable of germination I was good without declaring.  After clearing, I found my gate and took advantage of the free wifi to check in with everyone that I made it safely.  Then I went to find some real food.  I found an interesting burger place and had an order of chicken fingers and yet another bottle of water.  Then I picked up another bottle of water for the flight and a bag of Twizzlers nibs for late-night dessert-y snack on the flight to Montreal.

That flight boarded on time, but it was a bit of a mad rush, and complicated system.  I still do not know why they do not board planes from both ends.  I suppose there is no good way to fill a plane with anxious people.  We were delayed taking off by a family of four occupying the exit row, and they did not want their children to move away from them, but also did not want to be separated on the plane.  It was getting to the point that I would have been in favor of deplaning the entire family just for being obstinate and not paying attention to the flight attendants.  Finally it got sorted and the children moved two rows ahead while the parents stayed in the exit row, grumbling about how they had never been moved before and they always book the exit row.

This plane had an entertainment system similar to the flight to Auckland and I thought about watching tv, but I really just wanted to doze, so I plugged in my iPod and slept on and off for the 4 hours to Montreal.

We landed a bit late due not only to the family, but also to some strong headwinds over the Canadian Prairie Provinces.  It was nearly 1am when I got off the plane and made my way to baggage claim.

We had an unusually long wait for our bags but as soon as I grabbed mine, I was off to the hotel for the “night.”  As well as Vancouver airport is signed, Montreal’s Trudeau Airport is not.  I had to ask three security guards how to find the hotel which is connected to the airport!!!  There was one sign for the hotel at baggage claim, and then not another one until you have gone the length of the airport and are at the elevator to the hotel level.  Once off the hotel level elevator, you still have to walk the length of the US terminal before you come to another series of elevators which finally lead to the hotel’s reception level.  I checked in and took still another elevator and walked the length of the hotel to find my room.  Finally I was somewhere I could collapse for a few hours.

But first it was time to use the hotel’s wifi to check in with friends & family, then sleep.  Aside:  why is it Starbucks and McDonald’s have free wifi for the cost of a cup of coffee, but hotels charge at least $18/night for wifi?  Honestly, add the cost to the room rate and give everyone “free” wifi!

The Month Begins (Two Months Later)

Monday, October 7, 2013 -- Melbourne

The journey begins.  We left the house about 6 after I spurred dearest into action by tuning the tv to The Brady Bunch.  It worked, and we were off.  We had planned to listen to a couple of podcasts in the car on the drive up to the airport, but as it turned out, both of us neglected to load the latest episode of The Alton Brown Cast on our iPods, so we ended up listening to the latest Wait, Wait ... Don’t Tell Me.  I would love to be able to say that I skunked dearest in the lightening round, but I ended up with a disappointing 10 correct.  I will have to keep up with the news better in the coming weeks so I can truly and soundly skunk him upon my return.

After that we chatted for the rest of the drive.  He had some business to conduct in Melbourne on Tuesday, which was fortunate because it meant he could spend the night with me.  I appreciated that, but the truth is goodbyes are never easy, no matter when or where they are done.  It’s heartbreaking no matter whether we do it at the house, the hotel, the check-in desk, or the evil departure doors.  I always think it would be so much easier for me to just get up early and sneak away, but he disagrees and I do not want to make it harder for him.

Ohh, we did have a bit of a worry when we missed the turn-off for the airport.  For reasons known but to the Vic Roads highway engineers, the Todd Road Service Station is better signed than the Melbourne Tullamarine Airport.  It’s always confusing.  But we managed to get to the airport without a major meltdown on my part (dearest had missed the turn-off on an earlier trip and was not terribly worried) and then we found parking, which is also not well signed.  Or at least the validated parking for the hotel is not.  And once you are in the garage, it is very easy to get all turned around and the way to the terminal/hotel is not clearly marked.  On the whole, Melbourne could use better signage.

After checking in and dropping our bags -- we were lucky and got an “upgrade” to a terminal-view room (rather than a view of the parking structure) -- we headed down to dinner in the hotel’s restaurant.  We enjoy the restaurant, which has a distinct 70’s Retro feel, in a good way (really, it is possible!) and had some dinner.  I really wasn’t in the mood for a full meal, but still I knew I needed to eat something and the vegetarian options were few and far between.  We finally settled (well, to be honest, I made an almost unilateral decision) to split an order of pasta with caramelized onions, pumpkin, and a stuffed squash blossom, an order of chips with Parmesan, truffle oil, and dehydrated tomato, and an order of Turkish bread with dips/spreads (hummus with blood orange infused oil, baba ganoush, and a roasted red pepper spread that was either aioli or cream-based).  Dearest had a pint of Munich-style lager while I stuck to water.  The meal was good and our servers were excellent.  Though I can report that having had a stuffed squash blossom, I never have to do it again.  The hummus with blood orange infused oil was excellent and I could definitely go for some more of that -- even now, two months later I can still taste that part of the meal.

I wanted to stop in at the souvenir shops to get something little for a friend who is going through a nasty divorce, and I wanted to do that before I checked in for my flight (because if not, it’s necessary to pick up purchases after clearing customs & border control and that’s a hassle I do not need to repeat, ever!).  So we decided to take a postprandial stroll over to the terminal and check out the souvenirs.  After a thorough search, we finally found what I was looking for and made our purchases.  Then dearest wanted to wander through the other shops to see what was on offer.  He found some Australian Bush tea which looked promising, and a small bag of citrus Jelly Bellies.  I was in the mood for something sweet to round out my meal and found a pick-a-mix chocolate bar.  I selected four bite-size pieces:  a peppermint/dark chocolate square, a milk chocolate covered apricot mousse, a milk chocolate covered latte cream, and a white chocolate covered butter mint caramel.  In retrospect, only the peppermint/dark chocolate square was worth it.  The apricot mousse was good, and the milk chocolate was good, but they didn’t mix well together.  The latte cream was an average coffee chocolate -- nothing spectacular, but not horrible either.  The white chocolate butter mint caramel was awful!  Mint should never mix with caramel and the white chocolate only made the whole thing too sickly sweet.  And I ended up getting sticky caramel all over everything.

After the disappointing candies, I plugged in my computer and loaded up my iPod with music and podcasts for my flights -- including The Alton Brown Cast we had intended to listen to on the drive up.  Then it was time for bed.

A Real Campaign for Real Beauty

Several years ago, Unilever, through its brand Dove, created the “Campaign for Real Beauty.”  It was an advertising campaign designed to feature real women and show that real women are beautiful, even if they are not advertising models (which is not to say that advertising models are not beautiful, just to say that the models are not usually an accurate representation of the average woman).

It was an interesting campaign based on an interesting idea -- an idea that while true, is not highlighted nearly enough.  But the more I thought over the campaign, the more I thought that the real women Unilever/Dove were using were no more real than the previously used models.  They were using real women, not models, but they were still cherry picking the best of the real women who applied for the campaign.  And that’s not to say the practice is wrong.  Of course the brand wants to use the best examples to advertise its product.  But is it really embodying the idea of real beauty they are proclaiming in the campaign name?  Would it not be a better idea if the brand use every woman who volunteered to be part of the campaign?

When I was in college, I went to a behind the scenes night at the Audubon Aquarium of the Americas in New Orleans.  The keepers of the Gulf of Mexico exhibit were very proud that most of the fish used were wild-caught, rather than being captive-bred.  But the keepers had an interesting story to tell about those wild-caught fish.  A few of the wild-caught fish were less than perfect.  Aquarium management had wanted all the animals on display to be as perfect as possible.  One of the keepers commented that perfect only exists in book illustrations.  In the wild, in life, fish are not perfect -- some are missing all or parts of fins whether though congenital deformities or loss; or some of the fish are over- or under-sized, not symmetrical.  In the wild, imperfect is for easier to find than perfect.  The keepers fought management for several months to be able to display the imperfect, but wild-caught, fish instead of captive-breeding more fish to try and attain perfect specimens.

I loved that the keepers fought for real, imperfect fish rather than manufactured perfection.  None of us really need to be told that the beauty advertisers push at us is not real.  We all know that it’s a manufactured, and sometimes impossible to attain, ideal.  But sometimes we need to be reminded that true beauty comes more from the imperfect than the perfect.

I saw this article/video in a tweet and it has stuck with me for two days now.  All I want to do is scream from the rooftops “YOU MUST WATCH THIS!” and then “WATCH IT AGAIN!”  It’s a reminder, and a none-too-gentle reminder at that, that true beauty is to found as much in the imperfections in the wild as it is in the advertising ideals.  We are all beautiful.

It’s time to stop qualifying the idea of beauty.  Because no-one is perfect.  Real Beauty comes from Real Life.

Reading to the Numbers

This morning I finished my forty-eighth book for the year.  I am very pleased with that.

Each year I set an arbitrary goal for myself to read at least four books a month, or forty-eight books over the course of the year.  I put no other demands on my reading, other than trying to read four books a month.  I know some people set page goals for the week, or conditions that the books have to be over 300 pages or not counting re-reading books in the overall total.  I’m not that picky with my goal.  I aim for forty-eight individual works read cover-to-cover.  I do not distinguish between book formats, so an audio book or an electronic book on my Kindle counts as a book, just the same as a physical paper copy does.  I figure if there is effort to read or pay attention to the book it should count.  I do make a note in my listing for the year what format the book was in, but that is mainly to see how owning a Kindle has changed my reading.  

So far, having owned the Kindle for three years, I can say that I still do most of my reading as paper copies.  But then, I am a fairly tactile person.  I’m always picking up or touching things, and I prefer the feel of a paper book to the feel of the Kindle.  But I’m really not picky about the format for books I want to read.  One of the biggest disadvantages of the Kindle is that I find it is harder to flip to a particular page in the Kindle.  That could be more because I remember passages in the context of their location, for example, the passage I like in Anne of the Island where Anne accepts Gilbert’s proposal is near the end of the book on the righthand page and begins about midway down.  The passage that had such a huge impact on me about the younger generation no longer heeding the advice of the older generation in Murder in Montparnasse is in the first third of the book, on top third of the lefthand page, right before a break in the chapter.  I can literally see the passages in the books as much as I can remember them.  To find those same passages on my Kindle, it would require bookmarks or highlights which feel too much like writing in books for my tastes.  Maybe one day I will get used to books in an electronic form, but for now, I still love old-school paper too much for that.

My Kindle has really not changed the way I read, and I'm not sure if has had an affect on what I read.  This year, like most previous years, the vast majority of the books read have been mysteries, and specifically cozy mysteries, but I had read other things as well.  While only three of this year’s forty-eight book have been on my Kindle, I have read more straight fiction than in past years and even thrown in a few non-fiction reads.  My reading tastes have always run away from bestsellers -- nothing makes me drop a book faster than it being talked about everywhere! -- but I’ve no problem reading popular books after they have gone out of the front pages and dropped off the bestseller lists.  This year I read Captain Corelli’s Mandolin, and like the other bestsellers I have finally gotten around to reading, I wondered why I had waited so long to read it.  But then again, I am sure that enjoyment of the book comes not only from the book itself, but also my frame of mind during and timing of the reading of the book.  Had I read Captain Corelli’s Mandolin at any other time, I am not sure I would have enjoyed it half as much.  Like so many other things, it came at the right time for it.  The time may eventually come for me to finally read the Harry Potter series, but it has not as of yet.

I am very pleased with my reading this year.  I am truly excited that I have hit my goal with three months to spare, fifteen days of which will be on a cruise ship with no real demands on my time and plentiful opportunities to while away the hours with a book as the water slips by beneath me.  I am planning my cruise reading now, and am trying to decide if seven paper books and sixteen on the Kindle are sufficient for the trip.  Part of me thinks that’s a bit of overkill, but the bigger part of me is terrified of being on the ship and running out of reading material.  That would be a tragedy.  I am sure that hell is a library filled with nothing but trashy, Harlequin-eqsue romance novels I have no interest in ever reading.

Once a co-worker gave me a book as part of a Secret Santa gift exchange.  She gave me some pulpy Danielle Steele novel she picked up in the check-out line at the grocery.  In my expression of gratitude, I asked her about the book, trying to figure out why she picked that book to give to me.  She explained that she knew I was a reader, and that was a book, so I must want it.  After successfully avoiding rolling my eyes heavenward in her presence, I thanked her profusely -- a bit too profusely perhaps, and headed off to figure out how to dispose of the book without her knowing.  I needn’t have worried, she never bothered checking up on my enjoyment of the book.  In fact, a few months later I overheard her commenting to another co-worker that she hadn’t read a book in 20 years and saw no need to do so because, “everything interesting is on tv eventually.”  It ceased to surprise me that she had chose the first book she came to as a good gift for a reader.  After that experience, I tried very hard to avoid gift exchanges with people who put very little effort into finding a good gift.  And for the ones in which I did participate, I certainly never indicated that just any book was an acceptable gift.

My reading will continue this year.  Of course it will, a day without a book in it is a wasted day.  And I debated resetting my goal in keeping with my reading rate already this year, but I decided that I do not want to challenge myself with something that would disappoint me or make me feel a failure if things happen and I cannot meet it by December 31.  I decided instead to just keep reading as I have been all year and seeing how many books I can read.  Hang around for my results -- I’ll keep the Adventures to Savour running tally updated.

Balancing the Budget in an Afternoon

When I lived in New Orleans -- wait, let me re-phrase that, I've never lived in New Orleans -- When I lived in unincorporated Jefferson Parish, across the river from what the world thinks of as New Orleans, even though I was really only a three streets away from what is in actuality, New Orleans, the city was drowning in debt and in need of a large, quick influx of cash.  Nevermind the fact that any money actually collected would never be put to whatever use for which it was earmarked.  But as I said, the city was in need of a large influx of cash.  There were plans to raise the sales tax and plans to tax this, that or the other.  In truth I cannot really remember what ended up happening to raise the money so desperately needed.  I suspect, it being Louisiana, that it was a matter of “creative accounting” which at some point in the future will be the subject of a federal investigation.

The point of all this wandering backstory is that during this financial crisis for not-even-my town, I came up with a plan.  A plan that would not only get the city the money it needed to do things that might actually help average citizens, instead of keeping any number of politicians’ frozen vegetables nice and cozy warm, but would bring the city to a budgetary surplus.  And I could almost guarantee that this would be accomplished in a single weekend. 

At the time, the mayor of New Orleans had a particularly annoying habit of smirking during comments, be they in press conferences, interviews, or just out and about.  It was a sneering, mocking smirk, just the kind your mother would have dearly loved to smack off your face and into next week when you were a sarcastic teenager.  (Don't argue, I am sure you were at times, a sarcastic mocking teenager, in desperate need of a smack.)  Seeing the smirk so often on tv and in the newspapers, I became convinced I was not the only person to really want to smack him.  So I came up with the plan.

My brilliant plan was called “Slap the Smirk Off the Mayor.”  It’s execution was simplicity itself.  I suggested that for a charge of $5, a person could line up and "Slap the Smirk Off the Mayor."  I had rules.  This was after all a reasonable and civilized endeavor, not merely an act of gratuitous violence.  It had to be an open-hand slap.  No rings or other jewelry could be worn on the hand delivering the slap, and while it may seem discriminatory, I also disallowed prosthetics of  any kind (though I was willing to allow prosthetics users a designated slapper).  And because like me, many people may want a “second go” to really ensure that the smirk was well and truly slapped off the mayor’s face, any one slapper was able to give additional slaps by paying another $5 and returning to the back of the line. I was fairly certain that I would have people lined up around the block several times over to participate in what could be described as their “civic duty.”

It was a beautifully simple plan, and guaranteed to make money for the City of New Orleans, with a lot less effort than any other suggested methods would require.  One full day of the mayor’s schedule cleared and for doing nothing more than sitting in a chair “greeting” his constituents, and he would have balanced the city’s budget for not only his term, but quite possibly several future mayors' terms as well. It was a beautiful plan.  And while I never got the chance to suggest it to any one in the city of New Orleans, I remain convinced that it would work.

Now that I live in Australia, and much to my dismay, I have found that politicians are no different here than they were in New Orleans.  I see that same taunting smirk on the Leader of the Opposition at his press conferences and on the Manager of Opposition Business when he is whining about something in Parliament Chambers.  For reasons known only to the news directors and media outlets, the Opposition members are on television far more than members of the Government, though I am sure that Government ministers smirk equally as much.

As much media attention is being focused on “returning the country to surplus," I am willing to modify my brilliant plan for Australia's benefit.  I remain convinced that this plan will balance the budget, and return a surplus the likes of which no national treasurer has ever seen!

I admit that on a national scale, the plan needs a bit of tweaking.  And towards that end, I have spent the weekend giving the plan just the tweaks it needs.  I suggest that not only should the Leader of the Opposition be available for "constituent greeting," but also the Prime Minister, the Manager of Opposition Business, the Leader of the House, the Treasurer, the Shadow Treasurer and for good measure, Andrew Bolt, be available for slapping one day in each of the capital cities.  I suggest the same rules apply:  $5 for one open and empty handed slap across the cheek of one of the government representatives.  Additional slaps would require the individual to go to the back of the line and pay again.  I would have the budget back to surplus in one afternoon.

This plan would work, I’m sure of it. Don't you want to do your civic duty and Slap the Smirk Off the Leader of the Opposition? Come on, you know you do!!!

Birthdays, Near and Far

Today is one of my friend's 40th birthday.  I wish I were closer to celebrate with her -- with possibly dinner, or just a couple of tortures -- something festive to acknowledge the day.  But since I'm on one side of the world and she another, the celebrating had to be done apart.

Were we in the same city, I would invite her for dinner.  So that's what I did.  I invited her for dinner.  I planned a festive dinner and celebrated with her.  Dearest agreed to the celebration and even commented that I only set 4 places at the table, leaving out a spot for my friend's daughter.  I had not actually forgotten her daughter, but we only have four chairs, so I had thought that maybe her two-and-a-half year old daughter would prefer to have her dinner at out coffee table with my teddy bears, where it would be easier for her to run around and investigate things. (But then again, I don't have a two-and-a-half year old, so maybe we'd re-arrange the chairs and she would sit with us at the big table.)

Anyway, it was a very nice dinner.  I made Pumpkin (Butternut Squash) Risotto, Red Onion Focaccia, and Birthday Cheesecake, with Peach Melba Iced Tea -- all from scratch.

After dinner, we would have introduced the Americans to Adam Hills Tonight, and then possibly played a few board games.  I think it would have been a fantastic night.  And I hope my friend knows how much I appreciate her and how much I miss being close to her.  (Though in all honesty, I haven't been close enough to have her over for dinner in 18 years!)

Anyway, Happy Birthday!!  I hope it's a great one!  I know I had a great time celebrating.

Going Fourth

Living outside the US, the Independence Day holiday comes and goes without much fanfare.  It is, more often than not, just a regular working day in the rest of the world.  Australia, being part of the rest of the world, passed this Thursday, July 4th, much as it does every other Thursday.

And personally, I did the same.  It was a routine Thursday to me which meant a load of light colored laundry, some straightening around the house, and finding other stuff to fill my time.  I finished re-watching Season 3 of Covert Affairs in preparation for Season 4 set to begin on July 16.  I hope that Eyal makes appearances in Season 4; I fear he will not, but I am holding out hope that he does.  And I made dinner -- frozen vegetarian sausage rolls and an easy-as-pie sweet corn soup.  But I did nothing special to celebrate the Fourth of July.  In truth, I spent much of the week debating whether or not I wanted to invite friends/family over for a celebratory meal.  But I never made a final decision, so in the end, the decision was made for me.  I celebrated on the Fourth by watching my dearest watch a special edition of Q&A from Indonesia featuring questions mostly about Australia's immigration policy, which is an interesting interpretation of Independence Day.  (As an immigrant myself, I have an interesting perspective on the process, but that will have to wait for another time.)

So my Fourth of July was a less than patriotic celebration.  By the time Saturday rolled around, I was ready for a much more American meal to celebrate my heritage.  A blog post I had seen early in the week inspired me and I planned an All-American meal of Homemade Pretzel Dogs with ketchup and mustard, Tater Tots, and a fruit salad.  The tater tots were frozen, so all I had to do was pop them on a cookie sheet and bake.  It's winter here in Australia now, and the choices of fresh fruit were not striking my fancy, so I ended up making a salad with a can of peaches, a can of pineapple tidbits, a can of mandarin orange segments (so much easier than segmenting my own fresh mandarins), an apple, and a banana.  I tossed in a bit of lemon juice to prevent browning and called it done.  Even though I felt I phoned in the salad -- if I could have found them, I would have used blueberries and strawberries -- it was a very nice complement to the dinner.

But the star of the meal was the Homemade Pretzel Dogs.  If I can toot my own horn, I am calling them AWESOME!!!  I have become very handy with yeasted breads.  And these were one of my best.  I wish I could take credit for the recipe, but it actually came from Father Dominic Garramone, my go-to source for all things yeast bread.  I cut his recipe for Basic White Dough in half, and used golden syrup in place of the sugar, but other than that, I followed the instructions through the first rise.  The recipe I saw for Homemade Pretzel Dogs online was made using a mixer for the dough, and I prefer to make my dough by hand.  And since I knew I had a perfect recipe for a standard white bread, I went with what I knew.  The online recipe followed the basic pretzel technique, and pretzels are really a technique not a recipe as such, but I knew I had good success with Father Dom's instructions, so I went with those.   And they turned out beautifully.  Dearest salted them as they came out of the water and when they were baked they were perfect pretzels!  I will have to do them again, and maybe try a different bread for the pretzel.

It may not have been a traditional American Fourth of July and it may have been two days late, but that did not diminish the celebration one bit.

Something from Nothing

This:

Plus this:

Equals this:

Today about 3:00 I had an overwhelming desire for something sweet to finish up tonight's dinner of leftover Mixed Vegetable and Farro Soup.  The soup is delicious and the wholegrain spelt bread I made to go with it is equally wonderful, but I just wanted something else.  I have a banana and an apple and some honey I'll spike with a bit of cinnamon to drizzle over that, but I wanted something more to finish the meal.

Looking in my pantry, I realized my supplies were a bit meagre.  But then it hit me, I had about a cup of self-rising flour and some chocolate chip ice cream.  I could make muffins!!

The idea came from Father Dominic Garramone, O.S.B. in his book How to Be a Breadhead and I had been itching to try it out since I got the book back in December.  If you do not have access to his book, and you darn well should!, you can find the recipe, and many others, on his website.

So the next time you have nothing in your house and want something, test out Ice Cream Muffins.

Ultimate Reality Television

By and large I can't stand most of the alleged "reality television."  I will admit to shouting at the tv during Top Chef and Chopped, but most of the reality shows I purposely skip.  It's not reality, it's cherry-picked dramatic moments of set-up shows.  I'm not saying that Top Chef and Chopped are any less cherry-picked dramatic moments of set-up shows, they are exactly the same.  But if the genre exists and dominates most television programming these days, I should at least find a show that is part-way palatable.  And cooking is at least a real skill, and can possibly teach me something I didn't already know,  or inspire me to do something different for dinner one night.

But as far as reality television goes, I have found something much better than any currently produced show.  I have become addicted to Parliament Question Time.  It really is the ultimate reality television.  In fact, I am truly surprised some network executive has not capitalized on it already.

Every day Parliament is in session, there is a period for "Questions Without Notice," where questions are asked of the Ministers about their portfolios.  The questions run the gamut from: "Would the Minister for School Education, Early Childhood and Youth, update the house on the efforts to improve education for Australia's children?" to "Would the Prime Minister please update the house on the status of the investigation regarding the convicted terrorist who was detained in minimum security for over seven months before being moved to a more secure facility?"

Usually no real answers are given, but then again, no real questions are ever asked either, so it hardly matters.  It's pure theater and I eat it up.  Every day Parliament is in session, I drop everything to sit glued to the tv for an hour and 15 minutes as the ABC broadcasts the next episode of this ultimate reality television series.

It's an hour and a quarter of elected officials sniping at each other.  I am fully aware that the politicians are aware they are on national television, and play that fact up.  I have seen broadcasts from Parliament outside of Question Time and it's about as exciting as you would expect it to be, which is to say that paint drying or grass growing would beat it walking away in the Nielsen ratings.  But the pomp, circumstance and general ridiculousness of Question Time is captivating.  I actually find myself planning my day around the broadcast.  I have gotten to know the characters, and can even predict the plot of the day based on the first question.  If I drank more frequently, I could even develop a drinking game based on the predictable nature of the drama.

This week is the last sitting week of Parliament before the September Elections and as such, is the last week I'll have with the current cast.  I will truly miss the Speaker of the House.  She is the reason I tune in daily.  I wish I had thought sooner to keep a running tally of the number of times she rolls her eyes at comments made during the Questions and Answers.  Her personality is great and really makes the series.  I will be truly sorry when Parliament sits again and someone else occupies her chair of judgment.

I will not miss the Opposition Leader.  I am so ready to get rid of him (and hope that the good people of the electorate of Warringah vote to remove the pox from office so that he cannot threaten anyone ever again).

Nor will I miss the annoying Manager of Opposition Business.  I am positive that when he was in school, the Manager of Opposition Business strove to be Teacher's Pet, the kind of student who wrote down the names of all his classmates talking while the Teacher was out of the room, and the right there with the list when she came back in to tattle on everyone else.

I will not really miss the pinch-faced Leader of the House, or the head-nodding yes-men sitting directly behind him.  They really don't add anything to the plot and are forgettable -- so forgettable, even after looking them up on the House seating chart, I could not tell you who they are!

I am sorry to see the season of Question Time come to a close.  I've come to look forward to it, and will definitely be sad about the cast changes for next season.  Perhaps Question Time is much like Doctor Who in that every now and then the Doctor regenerates into a new and completely different Doctor played by a new and completely different actor.  After September, the roles will continue on uninterrupted, but there will be new and completely different actors in the roles.  It will take some getting used to.

Maybe next season, a major network will pick up my beloved Question Time and give it the chance it needs to expand as the pre-eminent Reality Series.  I am sure, given that opportunity, the good people of Australia will embrace Question Time the same way they have embraced such series as The Biggest Loser, MasterChef, and The Voice.  It would certainly be more reality than any of those.  And the good people of Australia pick not only just the winner on Question Time; they pick the ENTIRE CAST!!!!!  (And I am begging to you, residents of the Electorate of Warringah, to do the right thing and please pick a new cast member.)  If given a better time slot and full-on blitz media campaign, in the next season, discussions of Question Time could take their precedence over office water coolers and back fences.  The end result would be a better-educated populace.  And maybe that's not such a bad thing, considering that the voting for this reality show is compulsory.

It's Just Like Yesterday, 72 Years Ago

When I wake up in the mornings, I check my overnight Twitter Feed. Along with friends and famous people, I follow are some news feeds and WW2 Tweets from 1941 (RealTime WWII). A few of weeks ago, I woke to check my feed and saw this:

After 3 days of RAF bombing, Iraqi troops have surrendered the city of Fallujah; UK command denounce Germany as "caring only for Iraq's oil"
— WW2 Tweets from 1941 (@RealTimeWWII) May 19, 2013

I commented to dearest about -- something about the more things change, the more they stay the same. This morning, I woke up, and upon checking my Twitter Feed, found these:

Allied army- coalition of British, Australian, Indian, & "Free French" troops- secretly assembling on Syrian border, poised to invade.
— WW2 Tweets from 1941 (@RealTimeWWII) June 6, 2013

Syria is colony of Vichy France- who are Nazi allies, but not at war; for 1st time, Allies plan surprise invasion of neutral territory.
— WW2 Tweets from 1941 (@RealTimeWWII) June 6, 2013

French & British exchanging bombs; French planes now raiding RAF bases in Palestine, "reprisal" for attacks on Luftwaffe stationed in Syria.
— WW2 Tweets from 1941 (@RealTimeWWII) June 6, 2013

I seriously had to check to see whether these were the RealTimeWWII tweets or actual news tweets from today. The more I read the RealTimeWWII tweets, the more I am convinced that no-one in power today has any understanding of history whatsoever. It really does seem like yesterday's news is exactly the same as the headlines from 72 years ago! The fact that I had to check to see if the headlines were from 1941 or yesterday really makes me worry for the future of the world.

World conflicts are beginning to look the same. I honestly cannot decide if the reason is that: (1) We as a people have not learned anything from history, or (2) We as a people keep trying the same things in hopes that we'll get a different result.

Either way, it really is true that the more things change the more they stay the same. Or, to paraphrase one of my brother's favorite movies: "Leaders come and leaders go; nothing ever happens."

Open Letter to the ABC

Dear ABC (Australia) News:

I understand that the recent tornado that touched down in and around Moore, Oklahoma is a big news story.  I do not deny that.  And I appreciate the coverage you are giving the tragedy.  But, please, please, please educate and reign in your reporters/interviewers.

The interviews have only served to highlight the overall ignorance of tornado systems at the ABC.  Australia does not experience this kind of storm system, and certainly not in the numbers and intensity the areas of the United States known as "Tornado Alley."  The reporters/interviewers obviously have no idea of the destruction left in the wake of an EF5 tornado.  They have no personal frame of reference and apparently cannot even act as if they do.

Specifically, the interview aired on ABC 24 around 10:30 am on May 23 was by far the worst and most painful segment I have seen.  The anchor was speaking with an Oklahoma City official and kept pressing the idea that legislation requiring safe rooms/storm shelters in all buildings would have prevented all the deaths as a result of this tornado system.  If only it were that easy.  By continuing to suggest that is the case, the reporter showed himself to be not only ignorant but also incapable of accepting the knowledge of a man who lives with the threat of this kind of storm system daily.

It would be lovely to be able to say that every one of the deaths as a result of the tornado would have been prevented if all homes and buildings were legally required to have storm shelters/safe rooms, but that is simply not the case.  Not only is it closing the barn doors after the horses have bolted, but it is not true.  There was at most 15 minutes of warning the storm was approaching.  I'll repeat that.  The residents of Moore, Oklahoma had no more than fifteen minutes to hear the sirens and get to shelter.  In some areas it was actually less than 10 minutes, and closer to 5 minutes.  Even if shelter had been available in every structure, many simply could not make it to those shelter in that amount of time.  A number of the dead were not in buildings at all, they were on vehicles or in open fields.  There was simply not time to get to the safe rooms that were available.  It served no purpose to try to force legislation on a man who is trying to deal with a mass tragedy, the likes of which most of the ABC news staff have never seen and have no real understanding.  Legislation such as the anchor repeatedly suggested would not have prevented all the deaths.  Spending the majority of the interview trying to get him to agree that it would have is counterproductive and a waste of everyone's time, but particularly the man who has a true disaster to manage.

I really expected better from the reporters/anchors/interviewers on the ABC.  I would have expected them to have been briefed better, to have actually researched the topic with more than a Google search and a skim of a Wikipedia article.  True journalists actually do research and try to become at least minimally knowledgeable of their subject before tackling interviews.  I really expected the level of craft to be higher at an institution as respected as the ABC.

I truly appreciate the extensive coverage of events from my home country.   I would prefer that the coverage be informative, of more than just the ignorance of the reporters.

Thank You,
a frustrated ABC 24 viewer