France = Food

In case it has escaped your attention, we go to France a lot. At least every other holiday we take. And there are a number of reasons for this, but the main one is - you are guarenteed to have an awesome time. I wasn't a huge fan of Paris (well, Parisians anyway) but I promise you, if you get outside the big cities -into rural France - you will have a magical time. Not only does every bend bring you curches and farmhouses hundereds of years old and sweeping vistas of old vineyards, - but you are immersed in an culture that simply lives for life's simplest pleasure: food.

Daily mini-markets for fresh produce, large weekend markets that take over entire town centres, huge supermarkets the size of an ikea store - everywhere you look is food. And the food is of the highest quality (the French would settle for nothing less). Dave and I have never been the party-hard people - so on holiday what piques our fancy is relaxing, comfortable evenings drinking good wine and eating amazing food. And in France 4 years ago I had the most memorable (after this of course) meal of my life which was nothing more than steak and fries in a tiny little non-descript restaurant in the fortified part of Le Mans. I don't know how they did what they did, but i honestly licked my plate when no-one was looking. In fact, that entire trip was an awakening to what food can be (the bread! the bread!)

So when Dave and I start to talk about maybe taking a holiday, it's inevitble that we consider France. And start to salivate when we contemplate going into a Carafour with our emty shopping bags. Below is a taste of our last trip to France in October.

This is the weekend market at St Foy de la Grande, the riverside town we stayed near about 20 minutes west of Bergerac. This market bled through the streets of the old part of the town, far too large for us to get through in the hour and a half we were there.

i think it's a pumpkin.

not quite food, but the ultimate accompniament

Our takings for the day. I couldn't help but lick my computer screen when I posted these.

These pics are from the old medievel town of Perigueux, near Sarlat in the heart of the Dordogne

not elaborate bongs - Chocolate.

If you ever go to France, take any opinion you've ever had of chocolate eclairs, discard it - and try one from any random boulangerie/patisserie. They are the absolute shit. Im serious. Im not a huge chocolate fan and have never liked eclairs that much, but in France when faced with the amazing choice displayedwindows such as these, I simply cannot help asking for an eclair. I swear Jesus is out the back baking them.

These pics are from the town of Bergerac

I know it looks like your average vegetable-things, but I assure you, they are the nicest, most flavoursome, most incredible veggies you have ever tasted in your life. Ever. In the history of man. The End.

One of three butchers in the same complex (6 stores in total)

Seriously.

Heather's Tip: Avoid the black ones.

Hmm.. where to find foie gras... can anybody point me in the direction of fois gras?...

Back home with our bags full including a lovely yellow chicken, Frenchie-style (ie. complete with all it's bits and pieces, including head - you know - the good stuff)

I pity the fool who disturbs Andy in his kitchen.

Bon Appetite!!

Cute Kids For Sale!

I've posted an ad on gumtree looking for some part-time help if you know anyone in the London area (or find yourself at a loose end over the holiday period)

http://www.gumtree.com/london/76/31650076.html

Madness.

Been quietly riveted by the goings on in Mumbai. Even though increasingly common in our post 9/11 world - these things are always shocking. And slightly more so when they take place in locations you visited and enjoyed. The Taj Hotel was the most amazing hotel I’ve ever stayed at, and to see it burning, to imagine the horror happening in those decadent rooms and hallways I recall so vividly, is incomprehensible. To think of Dave’s regular trips there and the implied specific targeting is unnerving. To read the emails from Dave's associates of literal bullet-dodging and life-saving decisions is incomprehensible. To think of the repercussions for the poor Indian families and the wider community involved is heartbreaking. It absolutely bewilders me what these people hope to achieve, for they do nothing but harm. They simply widen and prolong these cycles of hate and extremism. What sort of world am I bringing children into? It’s distressing. Especially when you remember incidents like Belsen and see images today of a father carrying out what looked like his six month old son from the Oberoi Hotel, 40+ hours after the sieges started (what did he eat!?? How did they stop him crying?? The absolute terror that father must have felt).

Here we go again...

... well i am madly transferring photos onto my external hard drive as it appears my computer is about to (once again) melt down. Seems to be a problem with the cord/connection which allows battery to recharge (ie. the bit I had replaced at dodgy peckham rye lane market stall). Oh well. I shall be offline for a little while until sorted out (santa?). Should have some sort of access to the internets through Dave's comp, but mabe not enough to update these wonderful sites as much as they deserve.

adios amigoes!

The Order of Progress

H: 'The first thing Rocco is going to learn is how to roll over. Then he's going to learn to sit up, then crawl, and..'

Emily: '... then walk'

H: 'Exactly.'

Phoebe: 'And then he's going to learn how to kiss'

H: 'Um. Yes.'

Phoebe: 'And then he's going to learn his manners'

H: 'I should hope so.'

Coming soon to a blog near you...

Mother of the Year: Tip #1

If by some miracle you find yourself having a shower alone - without threat of a screaming child wanting to join you, without having to listen out for the outraged screams of a baby discovering upon waking that he’s (god forbid) alone - enjoy it. I mean, SERIOUSLY enjoy it. Not only will you have ample time to shampoo AND condition, but it is one of the very rare times you will have to yourself and for yourself. These occasions are usually only available on the weekends and for the bargain price of a shitty nappy change (which considering you are already doing between 2 and 4 a day, is a non-issue). Make sure to use all those tubs of lotion, scented sprays and the various scissors in the cabinet as once it is over, you are expected back at your full time job for another week’s services.

The Sound of Silence

Dear god im useless at titles for blogs.

Anyway. The idea is that im not going to be putting up any posts for then next 10 days becuase I will be in the USA. Yeeee-HAH!!

San Francisco to be exact. Why? Because it's THAT important. This Tuesday you will find me outside the Mill Valley Community Centre weilding a placard that says something like 'Aussies 4 Obama' or 'Die Republican Swine, Die'. I haven't quite decided yet.

Thankfully the Jamiesons will put us up for the week and we plan on celebrating our political dedication with sampling wine in the Napa Valley, some serious time in a few factory outlet malls and two nights at Pebble Beach and Spanish Bay (which will only mean something to those of you who watch golf... so.... none of you).

Anyhoo. Back to packing....


WOW. Seriously excited at the moment. America!! Love it. It's like im jumping into the television or something.

Quote of the Day

this is from an essay David Sedaris wrote for The New Yorker recently, and has popped up on a number of blogs I read since then.

on undecided voters:

“I look at these people and can't quite believe that they exist. Are they professional actors? I wonder. Or are they simply laymen who want a lot of attention? To put them in perspective, I think of being on an airplane. The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. "Can I interest you in the chicken?" she asks. "Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it? To be undecided in this election is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked."

Some Good/Bad News

So I've been trying to convince Dave that our family should endure the 24 hour flight home to spend time with our family and friends over Christmas, and to introduce the smallest Ligertwood to them. And whilst he has been receptive to it, we both agree it comes rather hot on the tail of a holiday to San Francisco and it's not the optimal timing to break up the miserable London winter. Plus we discovered that due to Fred now requiring his own seat, the cost would be somewhere in the vicinity of a small car. Blah, blah blah. Bottom line is that we're not going to be there for the Christmas and NY period as I would have so dearly liked. Because there's nothing like being with family and friends at this time of year, nothing like the wonderful way in which people become relaxed and have bbqs and drink beer.

BUT the good news is that we probably will come a bit later in summer. Maybe sometime in the month of February we are thinking. Which is terribly exciting as it would guarantee that I'm going to be able to meet the newest Monaghan, which is just about the most exciting upcoming event on the Heather Radar.

Anyhoo. That's the news. Love it or love it.

Nail. Head. On.

I'm sure most of you have seen this, or if you haven't you don't really care. But it's my blog and I'll blog what I want to.

its peckham, innit?

It has come to my attention (thanks mum) that I have not yet put up any pics of the area or house we moved into a few months ago. So I went trawling through my photos, only to find the ones I took of the house mysteriously gone. I doubt I deleted them, but suspect that they are probably hidden away in some random folder, to act as an example of what breastfeeding hormones do to your brain. Oh well. But what I do have is some photos of Peckham Rye Lane. The main street 100 yards away.

Perhaps I should explain better. Back in ye olde England times (16th century), Peckham was a relatively wealthy and influential area of london and by the 18th century Rye Lane was considered one of the major commercial roads of London, housing London's largest department store of hte day. However by the last century it had become an area synonomous with the cockney working class of london, some might remember it from that fine example of british comedy :Only Fools and Horses.

In the latter part of the 20th century, areas of Peckham were considered some of the worst residential areas in Europe. Urban decay, vandalism, graffiti, arson attacks, robberies and muggings were commonplace, and the area became an archetypal London sink estate. As a result, the area was earmarked for total regeneration in the late 1990s funded by the European Union.

Its a pretty interesting area of London to live. Definately what one would call a melting pot. On the one hand you have a large population of the traditional cockney english (now known as chavs), a HUGE population of Nigerians and Asian and an increasing population of relatively well-off people like Dave and myself who want affordable proper housing in central London (read: 3 bedrooms and a backyard). And it's all prettymuch divided up by the pretty amazing Peckham Rye Lane. On one side of lane you have all the estates nad 'affordable housing' and on the other side you have beautiful georgian and elizabethan terraced houses. Our house is about 100 metres from Rye Lane and although it is a disconcerting street where you feel like you might be in Nigeria rather than England - I absolutely love it cos there is a cinema, a library, a proper big supermarket, a train nad bus station and every type of store you could possibly need (from an Argos to a Primark to a Boots to a Woolworths). However if you head away from the lane towards the affluent suburbs of Dulwich and East Dulwich, you have yummy mummies pushing their prams to the organic store on Bellenden Road.


Below are some photos from Rye Lane. I'll take some of the other (much nicer) direction sometime soon. Oh - and you can't tell, but those snails were as big as my fist.

Near Bergerac, France

It certainly looks like it is going to be a tough week ahead. Wish me luck!

this blog may be quiet...

...welll, quieter than normal, as I'm off to France with the family. Ginny, Andy and I all voted for Portugal, but somehow we find ourselves in wine-country France (near Bordeaux to be exact). Hmmm. Not altogether surprised really, but fully ready to enjoy myself. We have internet where we are staying but I doubt there will be much action from me this coming week.

That being said, i've got a number of posts waiting to be published, all dependant on uploading my monster photos - so perhaps a flurry of activity in October.

xx the heathernator

My Top 25 Most Played Songs on iTunes

Because it's my blog, i can do posts like this which are an absolute waste of time:

All in all, I agree with this list. Well, of course I do seeing as it's a magical list that I do not know how to fudge even if i tried to. Oh. Hold on. I just listen to certain songs on repeat. Right. Anyway - I didn't do this, cos where would the fun in that be? Sure, I could have made myself look cooler (dammit - where's all the radiohead?) but I'm not ashamed of my love for Christina.

And the list also supports the fact that I rarely listen to albums in their entirety anymore*. Since my music collection lasts over 34 days and getting from one album to the next doesn't seem to happen fast enough, I tend to mostly listen to playlists i've created -thus no album has more than one song in my top 25. Which is a little bit sad as I think you lose a lot by cutting and changing so much. It's just that there is too much good stuff!!

However I must query entry 25. I can't have listened to Billy Ocean more than once. Ok, maybe twice.... 3 times tops. It is rather fun that song. BUT i maintain that there is no way I listened to it more times that a number of the songs which make up my top 50 (which I can post if you demand it). This is supported by the appearance of position 23 - Adam and the Ants? WTF? I don't even know what this song sounds like. Perhaps Dave has been stealing my iPod from time to time cos otherwise it makes no sense.

Oh - and has anyone tried the new Genius function on iTunes? Hmmm.

*on my iPod that is. at home I usually blast CDs through the house. For example the new (and brilliant) Elbow album should only be listened to in it's entirity and on repeat.

update

ah. number 23 and 25 are both on the Ultimate 80s Album (cheers patricia). Which explains a lot, although doesnt explain how the Bangles and Europe ranked lower... eh. all too confusing.

I am aware that - on the other hand - some of these are not very funny at all.

Update:

Perhaps I should have called this 'I'm aware that - on both hands - some of these are not funny at all....if your name is Dave'.

Cos I was all like 'Hey Dave, look at the funnies I put on myblog' and he was all like (in order of comic)

'I dont get it? Is she dead? Why is she dead? Did he kill her - is that funny?'

'.... I dont get it. Is he a robot?'

'... (sheepish smile)Nup. dont get it. Was the car driving on the wrong side of the road or something?'

'Ha. Ha'

'Whats he doing to the woman in the last picture? Oh. I get it. Ha ha'

By which point I'm laughing lots and lots and suggested that we had totally different senses of humor. To which he defensively replied 'But I got the Jesus one.'

Baby Steps

I often face down a blog entry as though it's a bit of a chore - because often it is. I seem to have such huge plans on what I might write that I assume that I need a good hour to sit down and get them out properly. So I leave it till later. And then later again.


Eventually I've realised that as a mother of 2, if I take this road, this blog is dead. (plus the fact that only 2 people read this blog so I best just get over myself). So I'm going to try to keep things rolling by adding silly little pointless updates like this one.

Cant stop watching: Gavin and Stacey (BBC Series)
Cant stop listening to: Elbow
Can't stop drinking: earl gray
Can't stop eating: handfuls of Fred's popcorn.
Can't stop looking at: amazon.co.uk. Damn online book/movie/music shops. You kill my time!!
Can't stop swooning over: Rocco's asleep face
Can't stop laughing at: Fred on all 4s trying to drink water from a rain puddle
Can't stop worrying about: an imminent flight to San Fran with Fred on my lap
Can't stand: Katy Perry kissing a girl piece of shit song being everywhere
Can't wait for: Heroes. Season 3.
Can't believe: the vast quantities of people that will vote Republican.
Can't understand: how it is that my friends are having babies and getting married. It's all so terribly grown up. Didn't we just spend last Sunday swimming naked at West Beach watching the sun rise ?

Just had a visit from Kym Kelly (with a sackful of gifts, thank you Ann and Kezza) and he became the second person to suggest that Mama Mia was good fun. Which confuses me as I had already decided that it would be somewhere in the ballpark of Mr Hollands Opus. And therefore openly derided. MIND YOU he did give me Ender's Game (Sci Fi book? WTF?) so maybe he's losing his touch.


And there you have it.

And you can have this:

The Last Goodbye

Well. So. Hmm. How to start the saddest blog ever?

Buffy left London. Returned to T-dot. Which has devestated our family in many ways. I have no-one to watch Maury with. Fred has lost his best mate and now has no-one that gives him extra-long wizzies and then laughs with him as he drunkenly stumbles into the rose bushes. Dave... well... he's inconsolable of course. But we are slowly attempting to pull ourselves together and get on with life. Thankfully a wedding next year (Congrats K-Dawg!) might be the excuse that brings us together again.

Here are the photos of the last moments Fred has with his beloved Aunty Buff-Buff. And a tissue.

17 Blogs...

... is far too many for one harrased mother to run. It is unreasonable to expect that for every child, pet or new hat I might acquire over the coming years anew blog will be started. And for that reason, fred's blog shall now be known as fred and rocco's blog and be found at the following address:

http://www.fredandrocco.blogspot.com/


...as can some new rocco pics.

Rocco Coutts Ligertwood. Future Legend.

Apologies for not being the best photos in the world - but need to satiate the baying masses. (have not been behind the camera myself, so lesser photographers are to blame). Will put up a few more in the coming days.

The Ligertwood Boys

Rocco Coutts Ligertwood born 4am (London time) on 3.08.08. 8lb7oz, long dark hair, cross-eyed and squishy-faced. Labor was both eventful and pretty standard. Shorter than last time, more awesome pain-relief, but similar consequences which see me being a bit slower than I would have liked. BUT can't complain - healthy baby boy who seems very sweet at this time. Had very little sleep and trying to catch up on that. Hungry baby, milk not coming yet so very much have a baby attached to boobs at all time. Blah blah blah. Transferring photos onto Mr. Internet is something not immediately pressing but will hopefully get to do more in the next day or so.

Fred tentatively acknowledged Rocco, offering him a piece of dried fruiton their first meeting. But all hope of peaceful intergration was shattered when he watched Dave change the baby's nappy. For it was then we encountered the harrowing cries of a heart breaking. The bath he witnessed later that night saw Fred collapse on hte floor weeping at Dave's feet. Fred seems undisturbed by me holding Rocco, choosing to ignore us in favour of the bits of manky bread he stashes around the house. So not the best start, but pretty much as we expected it.

Will write up a more complete version of this past Saturday's events in good time as some things are too funny to not be aired in a public forum....

xxH

Carrot Cake. Bang!

My life has been reduced to taking pictures of what I cook.