Mission 034: Where Susan gets her act together

Almost three months since I have written in this blog. What a poor effort.
It's so embarrassing that I've decided that a new post should come before this morning's breakfast and shower. Although not before coffee, of course.
Why such sudden slackness? After all, I've moved to the other side of the earth, away, allegedly, from all the cultural attractions of London, to a place that should have allowed me more time to write.
But I didn't factor in the time that it takes to adjust to a new lifestyle. New job, new house, new garden, new pets.
Not long after I wrote the last post, I started working as a contract writer, part time.
I also planted a garden.
Then we got a dog, a Kerry Blue Terrier called Lein.
Then the dog bit the plumber.
So we had to take the dog to a behavioral specialist.
The behavioural specialist cost $170 a session.
So I had to work more hours to pay for it.
Then the cat got into a fight, got an abscess and needed antibiotics crushed and hand fed to him twice a day for a week.
Then he got fleas, and from the fleas, tapeworms. We treated him for both. And the dog, too.
The dog needs to be walked, fed and trained twice a day.
The vegie garden needs to be watered every day, weeded every few days, and monitored for ripening vegetables.
Aphids must be plucked by hand from the young leaves of the new lancewoods I have planted in our front garden.
There has been no time for TV, going to the movies, eating out or going away. Let alone writing.
The funny thing is, this is all normal stuff for most people here. But after living in London with no pets and no garden, it has been hard to adjust to. I'm only just starting to find a balance. But would I change it? Hell no. Here is the dog:



And from this week, the blogging is back.

Mission 033 - Where I learn to make sushi

Now that I am officially once more residing in New Zealand, there are lots of things that I'd like to do. Things I need to learn how to do. One of these is making Japanese food.
Food is one of my great loves, following close on the heels of sunshine and fresh air, and leading travel by a long neck. While I can't claim to be Michelin-star quality, there are several things I do well, and some that, with a little more attention, I could probably make money from, as long as I'm not drinking wine while I cook it.

I'm pretty good at Italian, Greek and even French. I've tried my hand at simple Indian, Thai and Chinese. But Japanese has always been left to a 'dining out' choice. Bit of a shame really, when I love it so much.

Now, take sashimi. I reckon that's a breeze. All you need is really fresh fish, a very sharp knife and a little bit of hand-eye coordination so you slice the fish and not your fingers. I already have some rather special Japanese knives (bought from the seriously amazing Tokyu Hands store in Tokyo, but that's another story). And I know where to get some fresh fish (Auckland Fish Market). And most of the time, my fingers keep themselves away from sharp implements. Sushi though, has a few more challenges. So this is what I've chosen to get the Japanese ball rolling. Although it's a cliche, it's a great summer starter. And you can buy most of the ingredients in the supermarket, including the bamboo roll thingy. I give myself until November 20th to make it for the first time. Anyone want to volunteer as a guinea pig?

By the way, I will post some piccies of the lovely Japanese ceramic knives here in a day or so. They're sharper than stainless knives, and can cut practically anything, except pumpkin, apparently because they don't flex. Or are pictures of knives a bit weird? Never mind, I know those of you who cook will appreciate my knives. Won't you?

Mission 032: Where Susan stops larking about

Aha. I knew these months of wandering the world and filling my brain with all kinds of curious cultural facts was bound to come to an end sometime. The money had to run out, and did. The line of travel had to finish somewhere, and has.
Now I am in Auckland, it is raining, and all around me the city is working, eating and...windsurfing, it would appear. Although I'm not really into windsurfing, I would like to be eating, and for that, I need to start... working. My mission is simple: to become gainfully employed.
I checked the paper on the weekend for jobs: nothing doing there in the advertising, media or publishing world. But the field of adult entertainment had lots of openings. (No pun intended!) I also found plenty of other unappealing jobs: cafe staff (no thanks), taxi driving (no chance) and childminding (no patience).
So tomorrow I will start looking seriously - with recruitment agents, friends of friends, job sites and, then, cold-contacting design and advertising agencies. Susan M Wills, copywriter and editor, words in waiting. Here I go, on the other side of the world, off to work.
Wish me luck. And some fine weather.

Mission 031: Where Susan tries to lose some weight

Ok, tough mission this. I have been travelling in India now for just on a month, and several unknown bacterial visitors have left my body slightly slimmer than it is normally. But several scarves, sarees and bags have made my bag decidedly plump.
It's not too much of a problem for getting around. But now that I'm due to fly out of India, things are coming to a head. I have a 15kg limit on my checked-in baggage (that's the trouble with these low-cost airlines). And my bag is weighing in at around 17 (not including hand luggage. So, somehow, I must slice a couple of kilos off my bag before the 28th August.
Shall I fling a couple of pairs of undies in the bin? Ditch a book onto the nearest shelf? Weed out the top that lurks closest to the bottom of the bag, fold it neatly and leave it lying on the bed, to be claimed by the cleaner?
Perhaps all three.
It is a tough mission this, and afterwards, I may be short on clothes and reading material, but at least I will be well accessorised.

Mission 030: Where Susan decides to become a neo-Italian mama

I am in Siena, Italy at the moment, and due to a freak weather pattern (stormy and very rainy - typically more English than the Italian weather the Buckwell and I know and love), we are spending a lot of time eating, or browsing food stores while wiping dribble from our chins.
A quick sample from yesterday's menu:
- Pici(Big fat strands of a spaghetti-like pasta) with parmesan and pepper for the Buckwell
- Ravioli alla maremmani (not sure what maremmani is, sorry) with rustic chunky pesto oozing all over it for me
- Some zucchini trifolate to share ( which seems to be sauteed zucchini in olive oil)
And a half litre of wine plus a bottle of sparkling mineral water to wash it down
Then we moved on to wander the local supermarket, where we observed no less than 55 types of pasta on the shelves or in the fridge.
There were:
tortellini
ravioli
gnocchi
cannoli
pici (also seems to be known as bagoli)
tagliatelle
lasagne
spaghetti
fedelini
linguine
tortiglioni
cavatappi
penne rgate
fusilli
pipe rigate
rotelle
pennoni rigate
casarecce
farfalle
sopraffini
digitale rigati
dischi
gallanini
anelli
stellette
digitale piccoli rigate
avena
filini
gigli
amorosi
mini penne rigate
capellini
spahettini
vermecellini
bavettine
corallini
pintine
tempestine
sedani rigati
mezze penne rigate
gnochetti
orechiette
reginette
penne lisce
nastrini
pipette
dischi volanti
bucatini
mezze maniche rigate
trenette
spahettoni
lasagnette ricce
fettucine
taglerini
cavatelli

So. Are you impressed that I stood there and wrote it all down? I got a few funny looks, I can tell you. However, the outcome of all this is that I have decided to perfect my pasta-making skills. Luckily, the Buckwell and I own a pasta machine, which I have used (and he has eaten the results from). It may have been used twice. However, as soon as we re-settle after this trip, I am going to become the homemade pasta queen - a neo, or rather pseudo (because as far as I know I have no Italian ancestry), Italian mama in the kitchen. But first I shall need a few essential ingredients:
- a louder voice
- a bigger bosom
- stout shoes (this should be easy as I have big feet anyway)
- a poster of the madonna holding baby jesus
- some fake flowers to arrange around the poster
Once I have assembled all that, you're all invited round for Sunday lunch...

Mission 029: Where Susan tries to avoid everything piscine

First, a little background. I am no longer in London, but travelling around Portugal, one week into a mammoth trip with the Buckwell. You an read more about the trip here .
So far, there are plenty of interesting sights and surprises, one of which is that there is a peacock 2 metres from my foot. Actually, she is a peahen, to be precise.
Over the last week, the Buckwell and I have been sampling a range of Portuguese dishes, many of which have been of the piscine variety. I have had sardines, prawns, golden bream, sole, tuna, monkfish and skate. And I am heartily fed up with all of it. Don't get me wrong - it's been tasty, and unlike the Buckwell, at least I like fish. But one meal finished me off. The biggest fish stew known to man as served up at a beachside restuarant to myself, the Buckwell, along with his brother and brother's girlfriend (latter two pictured here looking in disbelief at the pot'o fish. Eight people would have struggled to get through it. We four didn't stand a chance.And now my new mission is to avoid all fish for at least 3 days.

Mission 028: Where Susan takes some exercise

In just over a week, the Buckwell and I are going snowboarding in Verbier. It will be my first time on a snowboard, and the first 'active' holiday I've had in a very long time. And I have not prepared my body for the shock.
So today's mission is to try and minimise the inevitable pain and suffering by reminding my hamstrings, calves, gluteus maximus and other muscles that they exist for a purpose other than walking to Clapham Junction train station. I am going to use the gym 2 floors down in our apartment block for the first time. (Sauna and swimming pool use don't count.) I'll be coaxing the best out of my body by putting some really nasty techno/dance type music on my ipod. Afterwards I'll wind down with 200 or so revolutions of the hula hoop (upstairs in the privacy of the lounge).
So just in case you know me and will be seeing me over the next few days, be prepared for me to whinge about being aching and stiff.

Mission 027: Where Susan finds a decent waterproof jacket by the weekend

Is there a clothing item that you need and should really go shopping for? Do you, like me, know that whenever such a need arises, the chances of you finding said item are slim at best - unless of course, you have no money to buy it, when your chances of finding it increase exponentially. Wouldn't you rather just open a bottle of good wine while someone reads your mind, finds the item and delivers it to your door with a smile and a guarantee?
I have a need for a good quality (read 'quite expensive') Gore-tex jacket, in a common size and colour, suitable for walking in the Lake District, snowboarding in Verbier and many other outdoorsy type pursuits. I also have the money to buy it. And I need it for this Easter weekend. Oh dear, I feel despondent already. The chances are next to nothing of me finding it by tomorrow lunchtime. And that's if I even make it to the shops.

If you know somebody who can source such an item (in black, women's size 10-12 please), please send them over this evening to slip it under my pillow while I'm asleep. A bit like the tooth fairy did for me many years ago, only with money, not jackets.

Or damn it, I will have to embark upon my shopping mission tomorrow. Without any confidence whatsoever. Oh dear, I feel another failure coming on.

By the way, I haven't got my photos done yet, either.

Hopeless, I am.