the un-birthday present

there's a bit of a tradition of un-birthdays in our family. the story goes that when Dad was a little 'un watching his older sister unwrapping pressie after pressie on her birthday one year, he threw a wee tanty, immortalising these words, "Can't a feller have a present when it's NOT his birthday?"

fast forward a few years.

i was so organised last October that i bought a little something for M6's birthday two whole weeks *before* his birthday (instead of my usual Night Before Tactics) and hid it under my bed. unfortunately we then left his bike at the park and my head got full of The Bike Makeover and I FORGOT ALL ABOUT THE HIDDEN PRESSIE!!

imagine my amazement when while fossicking under the bed for something today, a little bag was discovered...

mmmmm, it's very hard to pose for a photo when you're full of after-dinner-ice-cream.

The Tardis

yes, oh yes, we've finally named it:

The TARDIS - a Time and Relative Dimensions In Space machine. The last one in the universe. The special machine Doctor Who used to travel anywhere in Time and Space.

it's just *so* kate5kiwis: The Doctor (aka moi) is a renegade Time Lord: an eccentric, highly-intelligent scientist from a distant planet. He travels through time and space in the TARDIS, a curious device, larger on the inside than on the outside, which was designed to change its appearance to suit its surroundings. His main aim is to fight evil and oppression wherever he finds it. He is usually aided and sometimes hindered in this quest by one or two travelling companions he picks up at various points in his adventures.

The Exterior:
striking resemblance, no?
the humble Police Box has been transformed into a TARDIS, A Time and Space craft that is infinitely large on the inside but disguised as a humble Police Box on the outside.

The Interior:
The interior of a TARDIS is much larger than its exterior, which can blend in with its surroundings through the ship's chameleon circuit.

which is why we've named it The Tardis.
cos it's not a sardine tin.
enter kids. exit squashes and squabbles.

tell me *that* doesn't excite your inner-geek.

oh, and the chocolate fish award goes to:
Hubby, in all reality, cos The Tardis was his suggestion.
But because I'm such A Nice Katie, I got one of the "one or two travelling companions she picks up at various points in her adventures" to pick a name outta a hat and...
the winner is...
jacinta the latte lass!!!
woot woot
email me your addy chick, cos chocolate and coffee go together like... ummmm... coffee and chocolate X

who needs a dog when ya've got kids?

and who needs a local bakery when ya've found yer kitchen muse?
TODAY'S RECIPE FOR A SUNSHINEY DAY IN THE SPARKLY BAY...

Firstly:
whang into breadmaker on *dough* setting:
1 cup wholemeal flour
3 cups high grade flour
3 - 4 ysp yeast
2 tsp salt
3 - 4 tsp sugar
400 ml water
while it's mixing make Turkish Tomato Jam:
gently sautée two chopped onions for ten mins in a big of swish of (cold pressed extra virgin) olive oil until clear (if you burn yours because you have too many balls in the air like i did, whoff it all down the sink and rush out to the garden and grab a handful of basil, chop and add to tomatoes etc)

ADD: one tin of chopped tomatoes
1/4 tsp ground ginger
1/4 tsp ground cinnamon
2 big Tbsp (auntie mim's) honey
pinch saffron threads (it's more expensive than gold, i kid you not. so um, i don't have any)
(another optional extra) teensy grated yellow zucchinis

reduce on low heat for twenty minutes until it's a lovely jammy consistency and absolutely irresistible. lick wooden spoon to check. don't burn tongue. cool.
when *dough* is ready, divide in two. roll out, on one sprinkle on grated gold cheese, spread tomato jam (can reverse these two if feeling less coordinated than moi, it was a laugh trying to spread the Turkish Tomato Jam *on* the grated cheese lol)
on the other, sprinkle a cup and a bit (or whatever) CHOCOLATE DROPS.

roll each bread dough up like a long sausage. tuck ends under.
rise (in the oven on very low) for an hour.
bake 180 celsius for 20 - 25 mins.
Secondly: pack said delish bread (i keep typing "brad") loaves
and kiddos and billions of towels and togs and boards and drinkies and head to the stingray beach. where there are no stingrays today.

OH, AND
*DRUM ROLL*
Here's the "who needs a dog when ya've got kids?" part...

Hubby: "ok S10 and M6, i'll stand here and hit the ball

and you guys see who can get it first

and throw it back..."

yep, it's the best kind of *fetch* cos kids understand english and don't try to eat the ball.

Thirdly: practise the mo-o-o-o-o-ves:

(tilt your head to the left, to the left.... watch the little flip in the box to the left...)

why we do what we do

i discovered The Reluctant Blogger a week or so ago.
and secret agent or no, if you're a blogger, ain't that the truth X

i wrote her this comment:
bwahahahahahaha
yep, i first started blogging to make myself learn how to use my digi-cam.
i am hopelessly addicted now.
it's my photo album, my journal, my love letters stash, even my pen pals live there.
and my family lurks too.
but i'm ok with that. these days my kids warn their friends to watch out for my camera. but i know that one day everyone's gonna be thankful for my paparazziness.
who else is recording the good, the bad, and the fabulous??
i love the story that's On The Blog. it's the story of us, a little trip inside my head.
love your James Bond-ness about it all, i do feel that way too sometimes.
love X

thank you and goodnight.

apron strings

I am sensing us collectively beginning to hold our breath, tentatively filling our lungs, trying not to count down the sleeps over the next month, this collection of days until you leave the nest, until we say au revoir.

See, there are so many layers of fabric stitched into my apron strings, D18. A billion moments of sparkly treasures. Your first breath, your first step, songs, jokes, rhymes, movie lines. How is it that a pinky perfect babe-in-arms miraculously transforms into a gorgeous teen, a grown man? You are full of hope and promise, intelligence and enthusiasm, sensitivity and strength.

This endless summer of mornings spent in sun and surf, long walks with baby brothers and sister - throwing the dice to determine the road travelled - and ending up unsurprisingly at the dairy, our April Sun in Cuba bubble, training runs with Dad, sharing ice cold beers and jokes and opening our hearts in The Secret Garden, viewing petite french movies at the local cinema, late night crossword puzzles, your early morning offerings from BK, all are being wrapped in baby blue tissue and tied with floaty ribbons and stored in little compartments of our memories.

It's been so marvellously good, the season of your childhood. I find it hard to believe that that we are blessed with these people, and life is this beautiful. We've shared so many sunny years, all together. And now you are ready to leave the nest. You are ready to grow up. The Big Wide World is just up the road, waiting to be explored and celebrated. It's a complicated business, this Letting Go. How many kiwis make five? Mostly to preserve self, I am believing that life is full of au revoirs, for I am sure that mothers are not required to let their children go completely.

And so we continue to draw breath together for another few sleeps, and I stay awake late at night saying a prayer for you and stitching a little piece of elastic into my apron strings.

avoidance therapy

for days i've been avoiding talking about Heath,
one of our absolutely favourite actors. so sad.

i'm also avoiding even *thinking* about Hubby going back to work after such a long, super-delish summer holiday.

so the other day i found this site where ya upload a mugshot and it tells ya which celebrity is your lookalike. it's a bit fickle though, i tried three photos of moi and depending which one ya believe, i look most like:
Brad Pitt, or Lucy Liu, or Eva Longoria or even The Hoff.
like, *cringe*
no wonder i prefer Wonder Woman.

*monotonic television voiceover announcement*
in other news:
last night, while noshing on steak and salad in the hot evening sunshine, we all tossed around the names for the car. it got really silly. hubby thinks *he* has naming rights cos he gets money for what he does and i don't and besides, i mostly drink coffee and have peeps over and go to the beach (of course, he doesn't really think that, i just get that impression from Joe Public) essentially paid for the car and i think *i* get naming rights cos i'm gonna be driving it. the kids think *they* get naming rights cos they are the creative ones.

of course it came down to a raucous vote and unsurprisingly, the suggestions got as bad as *The Flying Shredded Cabbage of Flatulence*, although *The Hulk* also featured, as did *The Larry Mobile*. but i want something girly, like *Penelope*, and *i* get naming rights, so i think it's still a Watch This Space moment, i promise to send out the Chocolate Fish when we get a name that sticks. thanks a million billion for all the suggestions.

oh, and M5's fish is called Patch, 'twas named by himself, he completely disregarded all other suggestions, but there's a healthy six year old for ya. sorry, it's not quite *Wanda* Jim, great suggestion though, we love the movie lines here.

which brings me back to movies and actors and Heath.
*sob*
peace X

one minute wonder

i think it's time for another quiz:

Your results:
You are a
beautiful
princess
with great
strength
of character.



yeah, i'm wonder woman
which superhero are you?
go on, click here to take the superhero quiz

take me to the January sun in The Sunny Bay

it doesn't sound quite like April Sun in Cuba, but since S10 acquired his new guitar teacher a week ago,
the electric guitar and amp (on loud) have taken up permanent residence in our lounge.

and we are getting soundz 24/7

even from moi.

petit ours au chocolat (little chocolate teddy bear)

Q: How do you tell the difference between a little girl chocolate teddy bear and a little boy chocolate teddy bear?
A: The extra little bit of chocolate.

i didn't get it either, when i was eight.
i think i get it now.

i made my first Teddy Bear for R14's first birthday. his name is *Reuben* and he's gorgeous, if a bit wobbly now. Woozie has been wanting to make a bear for simply ages, and today our lovely friends, Nikki and Steph invited us over for a Teddy Bear Making Day. so we took the chocolate fur that i originally bought a year and a half ago, and little brown eyes and plastic joints and the pattern book that R14 keeps getting outta the library, and headed off for some girl time and compulsory chocolate muffins.

cutting out

more cutting outafter a spot of sewing

"use your head!
but i don't wanna use my h-e-a-d!!!"
(guess the movie line)

stuffing him

voilà, meet *Ghana* the little chocolate teddy bear, named after our fave Dark Ghana chocolate. He likes to spend sunny afternoons nestled amongst the flowers in The Secret Garden, and long evenings snuggled up with his favourite person, who has probably smuggled some chocolate into her room. But no one's going to be able to see the chocolate smudges on his fur (that's the "extra little bit of chocolate").

Let's play...The Name Game!!!

The short version: There's a "Name The Car And The Fish" competition running here (photos below). We'd love to hear your suggestions. There's a prize of a CHOCOLATE FISH for the winner/s... all you have to do is spend three seconds *thinking* of a name, and another three seconds *typing* it in the comments box...

The l-o-n-g version: When I was a little girl, I was firmly attached to our Volkswagen Beetle. It was light blue, had a six volt battery, smelled like the inside of a leather satchel, and sounded perfectly comforting for the long weekend drives to nowhere. Our Beetle was aptly named Noddy (after its namesake's little blue and yellow car) and it usually ended up at a playground on a Sunday where Greg and I negotiated the locals while Dad caught forty winks in the car, cos he and Mum liked to burn the candle at both ends. I can't remember what our subsequent cars were called, cos I miss Noddy so much, but now Dad has Red Ted.

Shortly after Hubby and I started *going out* he acquired a car creatively referred to as The Morrie, and since then we've had quite a few vehicles (or visa-cles, as Hubby tends to call them, no hints as to "why"). We've had a sporty little red number, and the White Hot Van (our first more-than-two-kids car), The Cranny (cranberry coloured preggie-goldfish-van) and recently Rasputin, Hubby's little bomb, which is so-called because it refuses to die, lol. And of course The Sardine Tin, a teeny mitsubishi chariot we squashed all the sardines kiddos into. Which has died.

Introducing our newest addition:
which seriously needs a name. It's a very deep teal colour, and has seven roomy seats. It looks rather wet cos the rain was absolutely *persisting* down today.

M6 is also wondering what to call his new fish:
(the one at the bottom), which is a girl, he thinks. D18 suggested "Susie" and I thought he said "Sushi"... oops.

So we're taking name suggestions for the fish too. There's lots of room in the *comments* box, and how about the promise of a CHOCOLATE FISH (real, not virtual) for the winner/s, posted to your very own snail mail box... m-m-m-m-m!!!!!

The Police Report

Wow! The long awaited guest BLOG appearance.
Yep, it’s me, aka Hubby aka Bulldog. I feel like PJ making a cameo in LOTR – however there are definitely no Pulitzer aspirations here.
Here goes . . .

The BIG CONCERT WEEKEND was a blast . . .

. . . the morning began perfectly with Kate and me belatedly (ten years late) joining the café scene . . . then wafting around little pockets plucked from our memory . . . the local shops down the road from our first flat/home . . . the magnificence of the *BIG SMOKE* when viewed from atop Maungawhau . . . the school where I first learned to teach and view involvement in education as a privilege, a passion, and a calling.

Ahhh . . . .nothing readies the soul for a blast of 80’s music better than a nostalgic trip down memory lane (supplemented with a little nectar of the gods of course! lol).

And ready we were . . .

We caught up with a great bunch of 80’s junkies (even though I’m sure half of ‘em were still wearing plastic undies when The Police were in their heyday) found a primo spot (cheers to the uptight Security dude) and set up camp.

Lights.

Action.

And these guys really did turn on the action. Almost two hours of intense 80’s Rock/Reggae/Punk that you won’t hear on a CD.

These spirits in a material world kicked off with a message in a bottle and never looked back or took a break.

We danced! We sang! We re-lived our youth with three old rockers! Then it stopped. What? No “King of Pain”? ahhh the masters were back on stage to complete the gig.

More music. Pulsing union.

After the second encore I had the world turning circles running 'round my brain and my 80’s fix was complete.

Were they good . . ? To quote one of the plastic undie crowd, “Check it out. I’ve got goosebumps!"

I might even go out and bleach my hair now.

mommy brag

D18 has just received his NCEA results, which have placed him in the *top five percent* of New Zealand graduates..
yes.
it's a high enough grade to have his name etched in gold on the Auckland Grammar School Honours Board, if he'd gone there, which he didn't.

we're so incredibly proud of you.
bien fait, indeed.

river rats

Take me to the river,
drop me in the water

Push me in the river,

dip me in the water...

Psycho Killer

Qu'est-ce que c'est?

i do realise this is a public place.
but i just have to ask the question (rhetorically, unless ya leave me a comment lol)
Do hormones get more ravagey (yes. it's a word. here at kate5kiwis) as ya get older?? cos every month i tend to have an Absolutely Psycho Day where i feel completely ragged and NOT EVEN a glass of bacardi-and-lemonade (my preferred 2008 summer vice) and a loud listen to my boys will fix, (no matter what time of day, lol...)

yeah:
I’m tense and nervous and I can’t relax...
Don’t touch me I’m a real live wire.

and then *boom* exactly a week later my cycle starts.
i'd really *really* love some feedback, via (private) email if ya prefer
kate DOT kiwi AT hotmail DOT com
thanks so much!
until then:

fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa far better
Run run run run run run run away

Big Day Out

not this Big Day Out, that's on friday.
but we are heading to The Police Station the next day.

today i had a Big Day Out by myself.
yep, just me, myself and iPod off on an adventure. no kids inside my head. just my own twirling thoughts.

i browsed in bookshops, by myself.
i enjoyed a little movie, by myself.
i ate divine sushi, complete with green dental floss, by myself.
i twinkled-toed around my favourite boutiques, by myself.

and mid-afternoon i got a text from a gorgeous girlfriend asking where i was and what was i up to, and whether we'd like visitors to help eat up the delish chocolate cake. so i hot-footed it home. wouldn't wanna miss a party. cos there's a limit to the amount of time an extrovert can handle, by herself.

lookit what i found to celebrate the day:
a whole string of rosy pink hearts!!!
sometime over this week i think i'll find a *heart of glass* bracelet moment with organza ribbon and sparkly crystal beads, by myself.

kate & kate

one of my favourite things in the world is when someone who we used to see once or twice a week when our first two kids were nippers... and now we only see once a year or two... emails or phones or texts or sends up a smoke signal saying:
what are you guys up to? are you gonna be home later on? can we drop in for a cuppa on our way to the beach?
and then they end up staying for dinner... and dessert... and a splash in the pool... and a cup of tea... and a movie...
and everyone reconnects in a twinkle.
the self portrait is doomed though.

The Laughing Policeman

i have finally succumbed and Made A Roster, cos it's (nearly) the start of a new school year, and i am sick of hearing myself
1. *bleating* about being a Hotel Maid Around Here and
2. *being* a Hotel Maid Around Here.

this idea has been brewing in my subconscious since i read of jo(e)'s escapades last may. thanks for the inspiration, jo(e).

the disclaimer is that it's Not My Personality to Make a Roster, cos i generally just grab someone-unsuspecting-passing-through and keep a wee tally in my head of who's next. i don't generally like boxes. but my brain is getting squiffy and am thinking we'll try the boxes.

so, the deal is that this piece of paper (posted here cos i lose pieces of paper) lasts for the next four weeks until D18 escapes to The Big Smoke To Continue His Higher Education and we need to regroup. the rules are that ya can ask peeps to help ya with your *responsibility* (ooo, hoping the Big Words will help the bribery) but You (not moi) are The Policeman, and we all work together to keep this family happy.
otherwise i may have to do My Policeman Act... or better still, ask The Resident Schizophrenic to oblige:

Beds and Bedrooms Before Breakfast: you wanna be able to get to the bed without breaking your leg.	D, R, J, S, M every day, my friend!!
Kitchen Hand: scullery maid duties including Dishwasher: please empty whenever full and help Mum clear the bench and load dishes.	Week 1: D Week 2: R Week 3: J Week 4: S
Rubbish: empty cupboard when full, green bin and recyclables, and take all rubbish to the gate on Rubbish Day.	Week 1: M Week 2: D Week 3: R Week 4: J
Washing: help Mum peg out washing, bring in, fold, put away.	Week 1: S Week 2: M Week 3: D Week 4: R
Vacuuming and Garden: cover pool at night, watering The Secret Garden and Veggie Garden, weed patrol.	Week 1: J Week 2: S Week 3: M Week 4: D
Family Bathroom: rescue empty toilet rolls and keep vanity/mirror clear/clean. Learn to clean shower/bath too!! The Black Hole aka Garage: ok, 'nuff said.	Week 1: R Week 2: J Week 3: S Week 4: M

LAWNS: Daddy and Mummy (in her dreams)

think it'll work?
it'll take a miracle!!
(guess the movie line)
now The Resident Schizophrenic is teasing me about blogging the roster.
but i'm laughing cos i'm off to find out who's cleaning up dinner *and* getting the washing in. and it ain't gonna be moi-même....
and D18 has just put his hand on my shoulder and asked (in his best policeman's voice), "as soon as that post is finished, please take your plate to the dishwasher."

i think i'm A Roster Convert.

lentil lasagne

i'm not apologising for my hippieness:
i. love. red. lentils.
when they're cooked just right, they have a wonderful meaty texture at a tenth of the price of meat.
about ten years ago, during one of those the-cupboard-is-bare moments, around the time i first discovered sophie gray, i made the very-hippie-sounding *lentil lasagne*. it turned out to be a hit with the fusspots that live around here les enfants, and so it's become a family staple. sometimes i put mince with the lentils, but today instead of reaching for the meat i negotiated The Jungle Veggie Garden instead:
lookit that: millions of weeds basil leaves, parsley, silverbeet leaves, and beautiful little yellow courgettes/zucchini
which i chopped and grated to form layers of delish veggieness.
S10 even helped me roll out some handmade fresh pasta. it's way more effort, but i think that a good lasagne really needs fresh pasta rather than dried. and it's healthier too.

these days i make about three times the original quantity of ten years ago!
i'm not much of a recipe-follower, so am writing this down for future lentil-days, cos it worked lol. i know you The Young Ones groupies out there are now having flashbacks of Neil droning, "Gu-u-u-u-ys, dinner's on the flo-o-o-o-or..." after one of his culinary adventures with lentils repeatedly exploding all over the kitchen...

*just breathe*

katie's sexy lentil lasagne
cook:
3 cups red lentils, bring to the boil, simmer gently ten mins, drain.

in a separate pan:
2 chopped onions (sprinkle of salt to sweat), sautéed in a generous swish of olive oil until becoming clear
add:
3 tins chopped tomatoes
gigantic squirt tomato paste
freshly ground black pepper
huge handfuls of basil and parsley from The Jungle Veggie Garden
chopped silverbeet from same place
3 grated carrots
add lentils, more tomato paste, few italian dried herbs
simmer ever-so-gently for fifteen mins.

make fresh pasta:
2 free range eggs (yes i'm a convert to happy chickens)
1 1/2 c flour plus extra flour to sprinkle as rolling pasta dough

make sauce:
100g butter
flour, milk.

layer:
into HUGE ROASTING PAN spread red sauce, pasta, white sauce, extra silverbeet and grated yellow courgette (to sneak into les enfants),
grated GOLD cheese (why are dairy products so suddenly *crazily* expensive here in a dairy exporting nation?? i know *why* but ten dollars a kilo for cheese *on special* is completely ridiculous. so is three dollars for a pound of butter!!! i will not even mention the word "petrol". i think we'll be getting a horse and cart instead of replacing The Sardine Tin.)

repeat with the rest of the ingredients, finishing with grated cheese and another sprinkle of cracked pepper.

bake:
180 degrees celsius for an hour/hour and a half while bribing Hubby to clean up the bombsite kitchen.
let lasagne set for a few hours (this recipe is kinda wet), reheat gently at dinner time.
watch everyone consume it in the blink of an eye with a fresh green salad which even has *cucumbers* out of The Jungle Veggie Garden in it!!!

Don't Stand So Close to Me

i think hubby thinks he's shark boy.
er, i mean shark photographer boy.
he waded into the sea this afternoon to take this video footage of a friendly stingray in the shallows, harbourside, while clare and i sat on the beach, thinking about our friend steve.

the good news is that hubby still has his leg intact.

PS Happy Birthday to my darling Dad X
PPS a very reverent salute to Sir Edmund Hillary, kiwi icon, the first man to reach the top of the world, who died today. Even though he was 88 years old, it's still a shock; there is to be a state funeral in a few days to pay tribute to our national hero.

skitey katie

just an incredibly narcissistic announcement that i can finally do The Pilates Sit Up that i've been desperately trying to do for A WHOLE YEAR, watching enviously as BOTH HUBBY AND MY MUM effortlessly execute the mo-o-o-ves during The Pilates DVD.

of course, every time i try to do this i hear Marie Winsor's ethereal tone telling me step by step what to do:
1. lie on your back and tighten rock hard abs WobblyMummyTummy:
2. now swing your arms up and sit up
3. reach right over past your toes
4. lie down slowly *vertebrae by vertebrae*
5. now repeat... ten times slowly...

i can do five before my *Flapping Fish Stranded On Beach Impersonation* takes over.
because i am a ninja.