Archive for July, 2011

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Meet my new-found cholesterol problem

July 14, 2011

I just bought BAKE by the Australian Women’s Weekly after some years of drooling covetousness. Now I feel obliged to make everything in there before I die. It may hasten my death. But it will be a good death – buttery, moist, and adorned with chocolate curls.

First recipe made – lemon butter and almond slice – was flipping incredible. Bodes well for future BAKE endeavours.

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Constant gardener

July 3, 2011

Well, I’m not, really. It’s in fits and starts these days. However I’m delighted to find that the dog is willing to take to take up some of the slack.

Here we have two avocado trees sprung forth from said fruit that I have devoured. The big fella is one I planted but the little one, well, that was planted by the little one. She has a Dedicated Chewing Spot in the backyard where she hauls things to gnaw upon. It’s where she grinds her bones to make her bread, so to speak. Seems that she pinched an avocado pit from the compost and left it in the Dedicated Chewing Spot. Lo, it sprouted, and when I went to cut the grass, I saw a tiny treeling. I transferred it to a pot on her behalf and now we think of it as Squid’s avocado. Seems like the little dog’s green thumbs (ahem, dewclaws) aren’t just green from grass stains and pond scum. I’m so proud.

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New Idea

July 1, 2011

Standing in line at the supes last night I beheld an execrable example of Photoshop whittling-down of female flesh. They’ve taken Princess Beatrice and hacked away the pixels bestowed upon her by nature and the papparazzi’s lens, then stamped “how I got my bestĀ bikini body” over the top.

I’ve circled the evidence for your convenience so you don’t have to think too hard. Notice the discrepency betwixt her hip above and below her hand?

Even IĀ could do better Photoshopping than this, and I struggled to remember how to make a circle that wasn’t filled in while preparing this image for you. But the real problem here is this: they’re saying she’s not OK. Her body isn’t OK. Even when it’s her ‘best’ it’s still wrong. They’ve sliced her away as if she was bacon when actually she’s a woman. Furthermore, they’re saying to readers that THIS is what you should aspire to. This is ‘best’. But it’s not even real.

Don’t fall for it, ladies. Or gents. Magazines suck.