Mothers Day

Inspired by one of my favourite blogs, my photo journal by Monika Kotus.

Song by Allie Moss, Corner.

Movie directed and acted by my seven year old daughter.

As is the mother, so is her daughter  ~  Ezekiel

Any colour - so long as it's yellow

Blue is the male principle, stern and spiritual. Yellow the female principle, gentle, cheerful and sensual. Red is matter, brutal and heavy and always the colour which must be fought and vanquished by the other two ~ Franz Marc

ALL IMAGES ARE ORIGINAL AND OWNED BY ZITA TATTERSALL

IF YOU WISH TO USE ANY IMAGE

PLEASE CONTACT ME.

Courage

No woman in the world has more courage than the woman who can stop after eating one biscuit.  ~Adaptation of Channing Pollock

ALL IMAGES ARE ORIGINAL AND OWNED BY ZITA TATTERSALL

IF YOU WISH TO USE ANY IMAGE

PLEASE CONTACT ME.

Pasta persuasion

Mum, can I choose dinner tonight?

Promise it will be your favourite.

Slurpy Pasta!
Okay, maybe not your favourite mum,

but it sure is mine! 

Spinach Pappardelle Carbonara.

Traditionally, carbonara is thickened with just eggs and cheese, but around here we like to add a little cream. Trust me, you don't want to say no to this girl.

400g dried spinach pappardelle

2 tb sp olive oil

250g bacon, rind removed, cut into strips

2 large cloves of garlic, crushed

3 eggs

1/2 cup thickened cram

2 tb sp chopped leaf parsley

60g parmesan cheese, freshly grated

Cook pasta in large saucepan of boiling salted water, until al dente. Heat oil in saucepan over medium heat. Add bacon and cook 3 minutes. Add garlic. Remove from heat. Whisk eggs and cream in a bowl until well combined. Season. Drain pasta, reserving 1/3 cup of pasta water, return to stove top. Quickly add the egg mixture, bacon, parsley and three quarters of cheese. Toss over low heat for 1 minute. Remove and serve with freshly ground pepper and cheese.

"Where's my breakfast?"

Artists make dreams for those who are awake (Plato)

Forever Young & English Toffee

"Were you ever young?" asks my eight year old.

"Sure was!".

Fingers gripped on our skateboard, bent scabbed knees, double-dinking, draw a deep breath. 

One, two, three...push!

Legs lifted quickly, fingers away from the wheels, lean forward for right turns, lean back for left, down the hill we soar. 

I was forever young.

Almond Butter and a Few Precious Minutes Alone

It's Friday night. You've barely stopped for a break. You leave work, turn the ignition on and Fleetwood Mac is playing Albatross. Suddenly you're transported back in time. Eight years old and eating peanut butter sandwiches with your favourite Uncle. You drive home with the sudden impulse to make this moment last forever. You call into the first shop you see, purchase a huge bag of almonds. Roasted and unsalted.Pulling into the driveway, no car to be seen. Home alone.YES! 

You race into the kitchen, kick off your shoes. Pour a glass of wine. You tip the bag of almonds into the blender. The machine pulses vigorously, you crank up some music. You take a large gulp of your wine and swallow it slowly. 

You squint your eyes to avoid the pile of wet towels on the floor. You pretend you're standing in a penthouse apartment overlooking a brightly lit city. 

You wish you could escape. The blender is still pulsing. You turn up the song. You start dancing around and belt out the chorus. You think you can sing. The blender continues pulsing. 

You recognise this moment will not last for much longer. A car will pull up, two children will race out with daily disappointments, dilemmas and disasters rolling off their tongues. One hundred miles an hour.

The house is still yours. The almonds have now turned into a thick oily paste. You lick a bit from your finger. It needs a little salt. You pulse a little longer. Take out a spoon, and swallow a whole mouthful in one go. Cool as!


A car pulls up in the driveway. You close your eyes, let out a huge sigh, and bid yourself farewell.


Until next time.