Beouf Balls

Possibly the worst advertisement for honey.

Everytime I look at this picture it makes my eyes feel claustrophobic. UNGH!

This pear I’m eating is huge!! Its the size of my head. I’m cutting off long slices with a sharp knife, my preferred method pear consumption, but I think I’m going to have to stop. It’s just too much pear. I feel a bit sick. Also I just turned it over and noticed it’s little pear butt hole is bright red inside, and has these thick eyelash looking things around the rim. Kind of putting me off…

A spider bit my leg yesterday on our creek walk. No bigs, I CAN HANDLE IT, don’t worry, but whenever I get a spider bite here I’m always a bit off the next day. Last night I just rubbed some Penaten cream on its puffy pinkness and slid into bed. CB said I smell like an old German lady and bit my cheek. He vocalized fears I would turn into a spider man. I seem to be alright, no web slinging or making out with Emma Stone on a roof top. Sigh. I just feel very sleepy today.

I fell asleep chatting to my mum on skype. I woke up a bit later, drool faced and disoriented.Thought a shower might help. The bathroom sink was covered in hundreds of tiny ants. I stared at them for a long long time, wiggling around making little ant army patterns on the white porcelain. It was hypnotic. There was something quietly eery about it. I thought about Dali, who used them as a symbol of death. Or vaginas. I very sincerely don’t understand that one. I picked up a towel and crushed them all. I don’t feel too bad about killing ants, because they are just an extension of a single creature. It’s like stepping on it’s toe, or giving it a slap on the wrist. Maybe that’s just something I made up so I didn’t feel bad about the massacre.

Last night for dinner we had thin t-bone steaks with grilled zucchini (courgettes here) and onions. Beef tastes different here, extra.. Beefy. The word beef has been in my head all day. I’m hanging laundry repeating the word “beef” out loud to myself. Now Ive gone French, and have been calling the poodles Boeufs all day. C’mon ya buncha bouefs. Lets go, bouefballs!

Yeah I know. But I’m alone all day. It happens. I probably have mad cow disease.

I spend a lot of my time leaning on the fence singing little songs to the ducks. I was belting out an impromptu tune of my own composition the other day when suddenly a man was standing next to me. I nearly fell off the fence. He said hello, and had I seen his dog? A little brown bastard of a lab named Patrick. I had not.. embarrassing.

It was the second time this week someone appeared without warning asking if I had seen their dog Patrick. For reasons completely based in the illogical, I felt suddenly paranoid that it was a set up. That these people were using this lost lab story to case the joint, trying to suss out when I’m not at home. Both times they had come, I would usually have been out to pick CB up from work. I set the alarm, locked and bolted everything and locked the giant wooden gate across the driveway.. just in case.

Later I saw them running with their dog, and waved hello from the car.

I had a dream last night that I showed up to work and had to make something called a “chocolate garland cake” with “lemon sorbet” and I thought it was horrible and had no idea what it was but no one would answer my questions, I was expected to know. In my dream I just started making egg rolls instead.. close enough I guess. Suddenly I woke up thinking that a giant moth had just fallen on my face and jumped up, flailing around the room. Apparently I was shrieking about a huge shiny moth on me and CB just told me to go back to sleep.

Mmm.. Egg Rolls..

Basically, my point here is, I need to start working. I have exactly 1 week of freedom left.. then the apron is back on. I’m so nervous and dreading it, but at the same time I’m so excited to start baking again. Will be good to occupy my brain again too.

P.S This weeks Doctor Who, had dinosaurs on a spaceship, an Egyptian queen, and Amy Pond shooting raptors with a giant gun. It was perfect.


Author: Kara Lalalala

I write this blog for my family cause I am terrible at letters & emails.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s