Cat-astrophe

Things I've learnt already after having a kitten for just 4 days...

• Do not expect to sleep. He will. On your face. (Or as close as he can get to it, while clawing your hair.) And he'll purr start up his chainsaw in your ear.

• Expect holes in everything. From your pants (after he claws his way up your leg while you brush your teeth), to your duvet, your couch, the carpet, the curtains… and your skin!

• At night: keep all body parts under the duvet at all times, or they will be ripped to pieces. Also – DON'T MOVE. At all. All you will be pounced on in your sleep.

• Do not try throw him off the bed when you are getting frustrated or want to sleep. No, no. He thinks it's a game, and will spring back and claw on to your arm and bite the sh*t out of it. 

• Do not hang clothes on the washing line. He will jump up and hang off it until he has taken off every last sock and pair of knickers.

• Do not leave home. EVER. Or he cries until you get back and you get complaints from the neighbours. 

• Wear protective gloves. A baseball mitt perhaps. Or your hands will be mauled.

But there are, of course, one or two good things...

• Get him a feather mouse to play with and he'll be occupied for hours...

• When he does eventually sleep, and isn't bulleting up and down the room like a mental case chasing imaginary nothings, he is a maybe a little bit cute...

 So, I think I'll keep it. 

And those big green eyes too. 

Now all I need is some sleep... 

Anyone want to catsit for a night?

Puff the magic pastry!

I literally have developed a new obsession with cooking. It all started with that Christmas cooking course. Then the Indian one. Am about to whip out my beret and embark on a French one. And who knows what will come next! Unfortunately since my kitchen was made for ants, I have to cook at friend's houses. But I've noticed friends don't often say no to my requests to come and cook them dinner in their kitchen.

Anyway my top ingredient at the moment is puff pastry. It's just so bloody versatile. And delicious. And crispy. And buttery.

So, considering a.) my infatuation with puff-pastry recipes and b.) my current cooking fad, you can imagine my sheer delight and potentially dangerous overexcitement when work asked us to make this ----->

It was from a cookbook that was sent to the office and they decided each person should make a recipe. Naturally I teamed up with Vivi&Lola and we got straight to the task that Saturday, after popping open a bottle of Beyerskloof Brut Rose. We like to use bubbly when we cook. Occasionally, like today, we add food. Here was the result...

Not half bad right? Pretty spot on even though I say so myself!

Once the photoshoot was over I totally kitted mine out "Jolly Olly style", smothering it with layers of avo and sweet chilli, turned it into the ultimate finger-licking-good to-die-for mess on a plate:

Oh. So.
DELICIOUS!

Anyhooo, in other puff pastry news...

My second masterpiece for the week:

Yes, I like some pastry with my garlic butter.

Break it open and what do you get??

True happiness! Roasted butternut, bacon, feta and mushrooms.

Heaven heaven heaven.

Now, anyone looking to buy a bathroom scale? I'm trying to get rid of mine!

Going in for the shrill

I can say with complete confidence that this is probably the most I've ever laughed in my entire life. Decided to watch some of the 'female' Olympic SHOT PUT... I say female because those chicks are about as feminine as a jock strap. Anyway, peacefully watching away when I heard the most alarming, frightening sound and realised it was coming from the mouths of these competitors. 

The first one sounded like something out of Jurassic Park...

The second sounds like someone letting go of a balloon!!!... Or perhaps a cat being thrown off a cliff?

Needless to say I was literally in fits of laughter for the next hour. I had to keep rewinding to watch it over and over until tears were streaming down my face. Anyway, hope you enjoy the sound effects as much as I did!!

TURN THE VOLUME UP LOUD!

Into the blue...

"In one drop of water are found all the secrets of the oceans."  

Kahlil Gibran

 Yes... water of this dazzlingly pure flourescent hue of cerulean REALLY exists. It's called the Med. And it surrounds a tiny weeny island called Malta – the home of Maltese poodles, Maltesers, single Malt whiskey, Molten Brown, Teasers... Ok I'm just kidding. But it was my home for a full two weeks. And I've fallen in love. With the water. With the locals. With its rich history. Its untouched beauty. 

And with my tan.

"For whatever we lose (like a you or a me),
It's always our self we find in the sea."
e.e. cummings

The Best Exotic Marigold Amateur Chefs

So remember 'Santa's Workshop' (above)? So we went back, except this time it wasn't Christmas-themed but... INDIAN-themed (below)!

Er... This is awkward...

It's like a 'Spot The Difference' !!

COVER UP THE ANSWERS BELOW AND SEE HOW MANY YOU GET RIGHT:

• I'm browner
• I'm blonder
• I'm drinking white instead of red
• The lime apron is WAY hotter than the Lurpac apron
• A look of desperation. (I'd just eaten a chilli.)
• I have no idea what I'm doing. Oh, wait... That's the same in both.

Look – aside from us taking thorough advantage of the free wine at both events, the two experiences were actually very different. This time, instead of a lip-smacking Christmas feast accompanied by mulled wine and mince pies, we made piping hot drool-all-over heavenly curry accompanied by lassi and onion bajis...

With garlic-butter naan (rolled into perfect 'teardrop' shape by yours truly)...

And after much much toil and strife, and sweat and tears...

 We plated them together to create an Indian masterpiece...

Fit for a Buddha.

And your average pissed 20-something-year-old...

The SA Chefs Academy runs a course on the first Wednesday of every month, each with a new, exciting theme! The evening runs from 6pm to 9pm and costs R350 each (you have to go in pairs). You get starters, you cook a main (and smash it in your face) and you get dessert (below), and bottomless Hemel-en-Arde wines. 

The Queen's Diamond Jubilee

Am brimming with patriotism right now, and intend to spend the weekend glued to the telly sipping on pimms and waving my Union Jack, chanting 'Rule Britannia'! What a spectacular weekend in history. Our wonderful Queen, 60 years of reign... ... *lip wobble*

GOD SAVE OUR GRACIOUS QUEEN

I'm going to have a bird braai

Every morning, I wake up at 5am. On the dot. I usually fall asleep again, if I don't have too much racing through my mind. But the primary reason I wake up is because I'm quite sure there is some form of Bird Boardroom outside my window, where every winged creature in Cape Town gathers at 5am to discuss politics… or worms… or just with the sole sadistic purpose of making sure I am awake with their incessant chirping. So this morning, at 5am, as usual, I was startled awake by my feathered friends. Felt SO exhausted I didn't want to open my eyes and was determined to fall back to sleep.

I just reeeeeeeally needed a sip of water.

Nothing to it.

So, without rolling over, or opening my eyes, I reached behind me, felt for the bottle of water on my bedside table, took a swig then placed it back.

Except that the bottle of water never saw the bedside table.

Rather, I had 'strategically' placed it back in mid air and it landed, nozzle down, in my handbag (which just so happened to be wide open on the floor next to my bed).

Awesome.

"FINE. I'm AWAKE!" I screamed at the stupid birds, slamming the window. "I hope you fly into a propeller."

Flipped on light switch and tipped handbag upside down, the contents of which came pouring out in a waterfall of Valpre. Raced to get a towel to soak up swimming pool on bedroom floor and had to sit for the next 20 minutes drying everything from my wallet, phone and lipglosses, to hardrive, receipts, pills and make-up. Then hung handbag inside out near the heater.

So now I was WIDE awake.

The birds, who had obviously realised their work here was done, had shut up and f***ed off, and I was left alone, in silence, with 3 hours to go till work, the contents of my handbag spread out across the floor to dry.

*Drums finger nails on bedside table*

I hate birds.