Ahhhh, Sundays!

Yesterday, courtesy of a discount voucher from our local Book Temple, I purchased a book “To Heal a Fractured World”. What intrigued me was its subtitle “the ethics of responsibility”. Being responsible and accountable are not popular or fashionable concepts in today’s “it’s all about me” culture. And lest you are tempted to think I have suddenly gone intellectual, fear not. The book is written by the eminently readable Dr Jonathan Sacks, Chief Rabbi of the UK. What an extraordinarily gifted thinker, but more importantly “doer” of what he writes about. I am challenged at every sentence.

As I tried to read a few pages this morning, accompanied by a welcome cup of Earl Grey, Ms Fidget Paws was wriggling and making herself comfortable inside the bed, where she had been most of the night. I can’t say I blame her, as there is a hoar frost this morning. After giving up on reading, we had an enjoyable few moments playing tag under the sheets. She soon got bored, jumped out and demanded breakfast.

Since then, it’s been all go – lamb shanks in the oven for dinner and a tropical fruit salad for afternoon tea (shredded coconut, pineapple chunks, dates, bananas and a slug of brandy).

Happy weekend!

1961

Inspired by Treppenwitz's post today "Does your era define you?" http://bogieworks.blogs.com/treppenwitz/, I decided to throw out there this version of a meme,

Year I was born – 1961
Generation – Baby Boomer
Political figures of the day – JFK, David Ben Gurion, Krushchev, Harold MacMillan,
Other big names of the day – Martin Luther King, Yuri Gagarin, Rudolf Nureyev,
Headlines – Nureyev defects, Berlin Wall erected, invasion of The Bay of Pigs, The farthing ceases to be legal tender in the UK (after 600 years of usage), the trial of Adolf Eichmann in Jerusalem. S. Africa withdraws from the Commonwealth of Nations. A military coup in Syria ends the Arab Republic, the Soviet Union detonates a hydrogen bomb (it is the largest ever man made explosion). The Vietnam War officially begins. The Marshall Plan expires.

Famous births - Diana, Princess of Wales, George Clooney, Enya, Barack Obama, Peter Jackson, Nadia Comaneci

Famous deaths - George Formby, Sir Thomas Beecham, King of Albania, Gary Cooper. Ernest Hemingway, Chico Marx

Music - Beatles, Supremes, Sinatra, Elvis, Pavarotti makes his operatic debut, Judy Garland at Carnegie Hall, Ella Fitzgerald, Joan Baez, Johnny Cash,

Top hits “Stand by me”, “Let’s twist again”, “Runaway”

Sounds I was raised on - Mario Lanza, The Spinners, Julie Felix, The Beach Boys

Earliest memories - “Yellow Submarine” playing on the radio at a pre school birthday party. Jimmy Clitheroe on the TV after the Saturday football results, Ena Sharples and her friend Minnie in Coronation Street. “Flying saucers”, “Parma Violets” and Walnut Whips from the sweet shop.

Thanks Trep for sending me down memory lane!

Yes, we have no bananas

Tonight I rapped myself metaphorically over the knuckles.

At 5pm, I was standing in a major supermarket, figuring out which vegetables I could afford to buy (or rather I could bring myself to buy, given the prices).

Later as I was cooking, I muttered to my husband about the scandalous prices, but in the same moment understanding why. We have had twice the annual rainfall and it is only September. Growers up and down the country are suffering terribly. Their crops are rotting or simply haven’t survived the deluges. We are an agricultural economy. In normal circumstances our food prices are outrageous in comparison to our salaries - we pay export prices, and now the weather is adding to the cost at the checkout. In some cases prices have doubled in the last few months.

Fast forward a couple of hours, and a dear friend and I are discussing Zimbabwe and the trials the people there have endured for so long. I suddenly felt so ashamed of my grumbling earlier in the evening. At least I have money to buy groceries. At least there is food to buy. At least I don’t have to fear for my life when I queue for the basics of life.

God, please forgive me for being so self-centred.

Wake up call

I have just watched a TV programme about how the western world is eating itself to death. Jamie Oliver has challenged a group of overweight/obese/morbidly obese people to get to grips with why their diet is killing them.

As part of the programme, they dissected a 25 stone male corpse to show how he died. All his internal organs were either clogged by fat or moved to the wrong part of the body because they were displaced by other fat covered organs.

It was horrific.

I am overweight. I don't exercise. I hate myself for it. I have to do something.

My biggest challenge is getting exercise. I don't eat junk food, but I do love to cook and bake and I have a sedentary lifestyle. I am a bookworm and I live in a cold climate, so the comfortable option is to stay indoors, curled on the sofa with a good book.

After tonight, I have set myself what I think is a realistic goal, 8kg loss by the end of the year.

Another 12 kg in 2009.

I intend to blog and report back. Wish me well.

What to be seen dead in

My husband has become familiar with a little ditty that I have started to sing this winter inside our walk-in closet. It is resembles a certain Monty Python song to do with lumberjacks. The focus of my rendition concerns thermal underwear.

This winter I couldn’t have lived without my thermal leggings and long sleeved undershirt. There is an amazing company in NZ called Kathmandu, which produces every kind of thermal accoutrement imaginable (not boxers or thongs – sorry!).

So I have developed an early morning ice dance around the closet singing “I love my blue Kathmandus, Kathmandus, Kathmandus, Kathmandus!”

It’s not a sight for the faint-hearted.

This morning I declared from the wardrobe. “Sweetie, just so you know, I want to be buried in my Kathmandus!”

Clothes to die for……….