Mission 036: Where Susan tries to exercise self-restraint.

I admit it. I have a problem.
That's the first step to dealing with it, apparently. Get it out there, acknowledge it. Then you can start dealing with it.
So, my confession: I am a compulsive book collector.

Give me a 'three for the price of two' and chances are, that even though I walked out into any given shop to buy a magazine, or even 'just look' at the new releases, I will leave with three books, and a magazine.

Several weeks ago I joined the library in an effort to counter this tendency, especially as I'm not working at the moment, so I need free books, not three for the price of two, or even one, books (although you must admit that three for one sounds like an especially tempting deal). Besides, while I do my Masters, I need to read as many books as I can. After all, it's research into other types of creative writing. Right? Right.

Anyway, so I joined the Auckland Central Library. First day I got out eight books. Fantastic. I finished one of them a couple of days later, so popped in to return it. And took out five more. Finished one. Took it back, and walked out with another five. I now have 16 books out, teetering by my bed in an unruly stack.

My logical mind tells me that even if I read a book a day, I won't return all those books within the next two weeks. Yet, I also know that next time I go to return one, what will happen is something like this:

1. I walk in calmly, and deposit the book in Returns.
2. I spy the 'New Books' display to my left.
3. I spot 'The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao' on the stand. I think, 'A new Pulitzer prize-winning novel that I haven't read; I must get it now, before someone else snatches it up! Otherwise I might to wait for it.'
4. I grab the book, and walk around to 'Recently Returned Books'. After all, what if a title I've been waiting to read has just been returned? A quick check here could mean I get in before someone else.
5. I find three books by reasonably well-known authors, which I should read at some point in my life. I decide now is as good a time as any, and I add them to 'Oscar Wao'.
6. I decide to visit the Librarian's Choice' stand, just before leaving, just in case there's an interesting book I haven't heard of. I find one, and take it.
7. I take the five books and check them out, stuffing them into various parts of my bag and laptop bag, as I have not brought a carry bag as I only intended to return a book.

So my mission. Next time, I will NOT take out any books, or buy any books, for TWO WEEKS. 11 April is the next time a new book is allowed into the house.
Feasible? I hope so, or the Buckwell is going to declare my book stack a health and safety risk.

Mission 035: Where Susan grows an aubergine

Okay, so I'm still slacking off. Not a lot of bloggage happening. However, thanks to the recession I now have a bit more time (and bit less money) as my two days a week of work has ended. For now, anyway.
Right now though, I have a new and very important mission. It'll take a few weeks to know whether I have had success.
I am trying to grow an aubergine/eggplant. Obviously I would like to grow many, but just growing one is proving challenging. See, the problem is that aubergines need pollination, like all vegies and fruits. They need the boy flower and the girl flower for this to happen. Yet, despite planting several aubergine plants, so far my plants have been stubbornly refusing to produce more than one flower at a time. And not even at the same time. One plant produces a flower, then it falls off. Another plant produces a flower, which then falls off. And so on, and so on and so on.
Until today, my aubergine plants have been sitting in the garden slowly growing larger (they've been there four months), eating their compost goodness, drinking copious amounts of water, with nothing to show for it. Then this morning, I saw two flowers. At the same time! Successful home aubergine growers recommend hand pollination to boost your chances of getting fruit. That is, you get a cotton bud and wave it round in each flower in turn, several times, to share the pollen, and hopefully fertilise the flower. Then boom, out pops an eggplant several weeks later. Well, maybe not quite that instant.
I can't help feeling that all this cotton bud waving is a bit like a group turkey basting. What a hideous thought. But good for plants. And if it gets me an eggplant or two, it'll be worth it.

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.