Mango Chutney

I have asthma. My attacks are brought on by exercise, animals, preservatives, and just life in general. Exercise – no problem, easily avoided (yes, I know this is a cop out, I’m working on it). Animals – not negotiable. I’d rather die than live without creatures. Preservatives are something I can avoid. Common triggers are dried fruit, many fruit juices, salt and vinegar chips, and most Indian pickles.

Recently, my asthma has been awful. Mark has been terrified, and I’ve been pretty scared too. Vietnam was not too bad, but coming back to Sydney reminded me how vulnerable I am, and I am off to see a respiratory specialist soon. In the meantime, having a cold makes things worse, I feel bloody awful and more dependent on medication than I am comfortable with.

It’s been years since I’ve had a decent pickle, and the other week at Sally & David’s house, I had the first pickle without breathing difficulties in years. Sally makes her own, and she gave me a jar. Tonight I made a chickpea, pumpkin and pea curry, and enjoyed it with a superb homemade mango pickle, courtesy of Sally. And I can still breathe 🙂

Thanks Sally.

Mango Chutney

I have asthma. My attacks are brought on by exercise, animals, preservatives, and just life in general. Exercise – no problem, easily avoided (yes, I know this is a cop out, I’m working on it). Animals – not negotiable. I’d rather die than live without creatures. Preservatives are something I can avoid. Common triggers are dried fruit, many fruit juices, salt and vinegar chips, and most Indian pickles.

Recently, my asthma has been awful. Mark has been terrified, and I’ve been pretty scared too. Vietnam was not too bad, but coming back to Sydney reminded me how vulnerable I am, and I am off to see a respiratory specialist soon. In the meantime, having a cold makes things worse, I feel bloody awful and more dependent on medication than I am comfortable with.

It’s been years since I’ve had a decent pickle, and the other week at Sally & David’s house, I had the first pickle without breathing difficulties in years. Sally makes her own, and she gave me a jar. Tonight I made a chickpea, pumpkin and pea curry, and enjoyed it with a superb homemade mango pickle, courtesy of Sally. And I can still breathe 🙂

Thanks Sally.

Another day

Today I will draw your attention to my adorable husband. First, his blog, has two recent posts that are both awe inspiring, and creepily beautiful.

Yesterday I featured his thoughtfulness, generosity, and romantic spirit. Today, I will balance that by recounting a tech support issue. I am a wee bit nerdy, but I am also lazy – so sometimes I will ask Mark to fix things that I could probably fix myself. But I just started a new job, and have been somewhat self obsessed. So I asked him to fix ecto, which wasn’t retrieving posts since the upgrade to WordPress 2.1

A moment after I handed the laptop to him, he announced that he had fixed the problem, and sent me this link. How rude.

And work? At about 3pm, my email started working. Next, a computer….

Happy Valentines Day

Valentines

Now, if the profanity and anti sentiment wasn’t too much for you, here is a picture of what I got for valentines day.

P1070614

A heart shaped bottle of Armagnac, an exceedingly pink rose with a superb scent, and a garish sock yarn in my signature colours.  I think I’ll keep him.

On the work front, I went in today, still no computer, but I did get the car to drive home.  It has all the bells and whistles, including cruise control.  And insurance, I hope.  The thing is freaking huge!

Daytime TV

Would be a lot more bearable if they didn’t have that bloody ad for ABC Learning Centers. It has cute children, good cinematography, and inoffensive music. But the voiceover woman would be a whole lot more convincing about the “Learning for Life” thing if she said literacy instead of lideracy. Bah.

I went to the doctor. I have a cold. I might be better tomorrow, or I might be worse. Drink plenty of fluids, rest, and take zinc and vitamin C. And rest. Did I mention rest? Again with the bloody rest.

Oh, and I have officially got the family curse. My mum has them, and my brother, and I was hoping I’d be immune – and I was for my first 36 years, but no more. The bite that Custard gave me before we went to Vietnam has healed strangely, and is kind of sore and dark and itchy. As an aside, while I was getting poked (with a stethoscope, don’t be dirty) by the doc, I thought I would ask him to take a quick look.

It’s definitely an abnormal growth. Let’s just hope that it has stopped growing, because the little buggers can be like tumours, and keep growing for years.

But I cast on for the second sleeve, and got some good knitting done today. I hope to finish the sleeve and get it attached tonight, at least that will give me a good feeling about my achievements for today.

I think I want to knit this

Hyrna

Perhaps at some point in the future though. I think my next lace project will be from Victorian Lace Today, which hopefully I will have soon. The lovely Sally has found a bookseller in the UK which has it for a great price, and the R+L crowd have ordered in bulk.

Mum has expressed an interest in having a shawl that is a little larger than the swallowtail – which I made in the larger size.

Next – to find some suitable laceweight yarn. Pamela kindly gifted me with some soft pink laceweight, but it’s not really a mum colour, and I think I’ll try something other than the R+L for my next project. The beauty of the R+L homebrand is that it is super cheap, lovely to knit with, and comes in a great range of colours. And it’s easy to get more if you run out. But for the next project, now that I am a little more confident of my skills, I might go for something a bit more special.

Suggestions?

Australian Values

Did anyone else catch Jeff McMullen’s new show, Difference of Opinion last night?

I had a difference of opinion with one of the panelists, who said that migrants only had a hard time if they didn’t assimilate properly.  Her family were migrants, and because they learned English as soon as they could, she now has an Order of Australia.  Now, I am sure that learning English is a valuable skill for migrants.  But I am also sure that this crazy old bat hasn’t had her finger on the pulse of multicultural Australia since she “assimilated” in the 1950’s.  I think things have changed since then – I’m pretty sure there were no race riots in Cronulla in the 50’s.

One of the other panelists pointed out that the migrants felt excluded form beach culture, and Professor Helen Hughes OA replied, “don’t be silly, anyone can surf”, proving that she had her head up her own arse for the entire event.  She must have not read a single newspaper or watched television for months to be so bloody ignorant about a major blight on our idea of ourselves as an inclusive society.  If I, as a teenager from the suburbs felt excluded from beach culture when I was growing up, I dare say it would be a hell of a lot worse if you don’t look like a skippy, and worse still if you have a natural tan.  Or, god forbid, an accent.

And I won’t be using the word tolerant to describe my attitude to people from other cultures any more.  An audience member pointed out that expressing tolerance implied that there is something wrong.  I used to say that I could tolerate anything but intolerance, but I can see how bloody insulting “tolerance” and “acceptance” are in the face of difference. 

Discrimination has two dictionary meanings

1. to make a distinction in favor of or against a person or thing on the basis of the group, class, or category to which the person or thing belongs rather than according to actual merit; show partiality: The new law discriminates against foreigners. He discriminates in favor of his relatives.

2. to note or observe a difference; distinguish accurately: to discriminate between things.

So while it’s natural to observe differences, and it’s natural to favour people who look like us over people who don’t look like us, grown up people have to look beneath the skin and look at values.

Which is where the racists are having a field day in Australia at the moment.  Ask for a definition of Australian values, and you get a string of words like, mateship and a fair go.  For fucks sake.

What do you think are “Australian Valuesâ„¢”?  Beyond charring mammal flesh on an outdoor fire, drinking beer, getting sunburnt, playing cricket in summer and footy in winter, and calling everybody a poofter, I am not really sure.  And I don’t see how making migrants ascribe to these values makes them more valuable citizens.  And let’s face it, besides drinking beer, I’m a pretty sad excuse for an Aussie under that definition.

And for a lighthearted ending to this rant, visit The Department of Citizenship and Fair Dinkum Values.

I’m going back to bed, as soon as I finish coughing up this lung.

PS.  I once heard someone talking about racism, and specifically that we are all programmed as humans to protect and foster people that look like us.  Our immediate family first, then our extended family, then our community, and then our nation.  It’s been pointed out that most Scandinavian countries have generous social welfare schemes – this person conjectured that this is because all the welfare recipients look like the people who are contributing to the welfare system through taxes.  In America, white politicians use this to get re-elected on anti welfare platforms. No references, because I can’t remember who said it, what program they said it on, or even what radio station I heard it on, but I believe it was either Radio National or ABC local radio.  They tend to have more crazy intellectuals than rock stars…

First day

I have to admit, I had a quandry. Was it better to turn up with a broken foot and a cough like Typhoid Mary, or not turn up at all ? Tough call.

I turned up, and smiled a lot between coughs.

They didn’t have a desk ready for me. Or a phone. Or a computer. Or any time to teach me anything. But I grabbed a pile of brochures, and spent a fair proportion of the day on Wikipedia (check out CPAP – it’s not as boring as some of the other stuff I poked into).

I had another maths revelation during the day. Reading about human biology is fascinating. All the respiratory stuff was enthralling, and I think my retention rate for the new information was pretty high. But when I came across maths, my mind went blank, and I literally found myself nodding off. The word vector was a trigger for me. I know what it means in art, but in the context of a biological explanation of electricity in the human heart, my eyes glazed over. Very peculiar.

Perhaps if I can name it, I can conquer it ? Let’s hope so. I know Mark will get a job soon, but in the meantime, I am feeling a lot of pressure to excel at this job.

On the upside, I sold something today. I think I got the client contact details right, and even the products they wanted. Thank god I didn’t have to discuss pricing!

And for todays entertainment, here is a clip of Frank Zappa being interviewed by Norman Gunston. If you don’t know Frank, do yourself a favour and get acquainted with Sheik Yerbouti. Or at the very least, go to you tube and do a Zappa search.

Frank Zappa once said, in response to criticism of his very public smoking, and the possible effect on impressionable youth, Frank took a long drag of his cigarette, and said, “you see to me, this is food”.*

*Please don’t smoke. Smoking is bad. It may make you look cool in the short term, but your knitting will smell bad, and only other smelly people will have sex with you. And you will die young.