You Just Gotta Laugh

The Snappers

A gorgeous and brilliant friend of mine, Catherine Merchant, works for ABC Radio National. She recently produced this program called The Snappers. Check it out. 

This program recalls an almost forgotten era of media social history—of men and women who were passionate to the point of reckless about their profession, about the next big picture, who rubbed shoulders with cops and crims alike, and bonded amid the glamour of the celebrity set, or the tragedy of a grisly crime scene.

Says Merchant:

"The Snapper’s is a revisit and a celebration of the wild and woolly days of Australian press photography in pre digital times. Some would call these the halcyon days of papers and magazines.
These days so many of us have an interest in photography..there are 6000 photos a minute loaded up onto the photo site flicker, but what was required of our snappers in the halcyon days of newspapers and magazines?
These were the times when just getting the film back to the office might involve more than a stroke of genius..the days when the pub was the other office, and practical jokes were a part of life. The era when Rupert Murdoch was looking over your shoulder and Frank Packer was calling you into his office.
When I began looking into my late father’s lifetime occupation, I heard about Damon Runyon style characters who congregated on jobs and bonded in darkrooms. They were people who predated OH&S and made up their own rules. Characters, who were prepared to do anything to get the shot despite limited technology. They were up close and personal with Australian life and they lived and breathed our history through their camera lenses.
Despite the fact photographers prior to the 70’s were often considered like tradesmen, there work was vital as nobody was tweeting photos of huge events around the world or daily life.
It occurred to me If you were a photographer who lived through all the technical changes that occurred in photography from the 30’s and 40’s to 2000, it would be like going from flying a tiger moth to a jet plane..
In producing this story, I found a family I never realised I had. I dedicated it to the late Cliff Neville who believed I ought to make it a much bigger project.
The response to the program was wonderful. So many people wrote in to me personally and there were 20 comments from different listeners on the website."

The Honesty Box

It has been really refreshing to come across the honesty box. I couldn't believe they still existed, but in the country it seems they do. There are lots of local produce stands along the roads where we live and depending on where you stop, the fruit and vegetables are of amazing quality and cheap. Run by local farmers who grow a lot of what they sell, it is a full time business for most and extra money for some. Our area is well known for citrus, and has been one of the largest citrus producing regions in Australia. Stone fruits and avocados are also locally grown. Some stalls are fully operating stores, which have grown from small stands over the years. Others are a bit of tin roofing on poles selling whatever is in season. I have even seen a wagon with bags of oranges hanging off it. When the stalls are closed or unattended, they have an honesty box. You take what you need and honourably pop the correct money in the slot. Can you imagine this in the city? Good old country honesty.

RSPCA

We recently got a second dog. Our first dog came from our local RSPCA shelter a year ago, when he was 8 weeks old. He is a Kelpie cross - his mix has been the blue plate special mystery - as he grows we think it could be Greyhound. I have spent weekends over the last month driving to the RSPCA shelter at Somersby to see if they had anything suitable. The first visit I was stoic and desensitised myself to the fact that many of the dogs could be euthanised if they couldn't find a home. The second visit was not so easy. My partner was no help - he is so soft he had to wait in the car. We wanted a female puppy - there were none, but there were so many dogs that for whatever reason had ended up there: stray, unwanted or injured. My heart bled walking away leaving them potentially waiting on death row if they were not reclaimed or rehomed. Just over 34% of all dogs taken in last year were reclaimed, 27% were rehomed. A staggering 29% were euthanised. 


My third and final visit was more focused - I was a woman on a mission. I had looked on the adopt a pet website the previous night and seen a listing for a 6 month old Border Collie/Kelpie cross. I arrived at the shelter as soon as they opened in the morning and found her. She was full of beans and initially a little annoying, but was so pretty and the fact that our dog loved her sealed the deal. I had forgotten my phone (accidentally on purpose) so had to make the decision alone. I couldn't bear to leave without a dog and the thought of returning again just killed me, so I filled out the paperwork, paid her adoption fee and sat her in the back seat of the car. She has worked out very quickly that she has landed on her feet in what is equivalent to canine heaven on earth. Aside from the retraining we will have to do, the mess she adds to my floors and the hassle of taking a holiday and finding a babysitter for two dogs instead of one, we adore having a new family member.


If you are considering getting a new pet, visit the RSPCA as one of your first options. 

Old Fashioned Marmalade

It has been a slow news week. I've decided to make Marmalade. We have a huge, mature orchard behind our house. Oranges, lemons, grapefruit and mandarins. Short of setting up a stand outside our front gate and selling lemonade, each citrus season season rolls around and I am at a loss as to how to use our masses of fruit. Not yet ready for canning and preserving, I am going to start with simple old fashioned marmalade. Love or hate it.

Ingredients
4 large seedless oranges

2 lemons
8 cups sugar

Directions

Cut the oranges and lemons in half crosswise, then into very thin half-moon slices. Discard any seeds. Place the sliced fruit and the juice into a stainless-steel pot. Add 8 cups of water and bring the mixture to a boil, stirring often. Remove from the heat and stir in the sugar until it dissolves. Cover and allow to stand overnight at room temperature.

The next day, bring the mixture back to a boil. Reduce the heat to low and simmer uncovered for about 2 hours. Turn the heat up to medium and boil gently, stirring often, for another 30 minutes. Skim off any foam that forms on the top. Cook the marmalade until it reaches 220 degrees F on a candy thermometer. If you want to be sure it's ready, place a small amount on a plate and refrigerate it until it's cool but not cold. If it's firm - neither runny nor too hard - it's done. It will be a golden orange colour. If the marmalade is runny, continue cooking it and if it's too hard, add more water. Pour the marmalade into clean, hot Mason jars; wipe the rims thoroughly with a clean damp paper towel, and seal with the lids. Store in the pantry for up to a year.

Recipe courtesy of Food Network

Byblos

Last weekend our Son went to stay with his Grandmother. It felt so good to have some time off, the freedom was overwhelming. There were moments I almost forgot we had a child.  My partner and I went on a couple of date nights to reconnect. Fine dining is slim pickings around our parts, in fact the only option to go out locally is the Memorial Club - great if you are looking for a cheap meal, meat raffle, beer and 50 in the pokies. Feeling like something a little more romantic we thought we would make an effort and look further afield. Googling "fine dining Gosford", top of the list (which also included Trackside Restaraunt) was Byblos Lebanese Restaraunt and Bar. It seemed an exotic choice. 


Fine dining it ain't, good food it is. The place was buzzing. If you had not made reservations, you were assured by the owner that he would do his very best to accommodate, despite being booked to 160 capacity. The classic menu was authentic and fresh. The cocktail list inviting, the service professional. The night was chilly and not even my Martinis were keeping me warm, so for me it was all about the neatly folded blankets on offer for patrons dining outside. Tres nice.

Byblos

The Shed

I love a shed. We have a huge shed which my partner had built after he moved to the property. The original shed was made from galvanised iron which had a dirt floor and leaked. It was spooky and so dark you couldn't even see to the back of it, like something from Wolf Creek. My partner fixed the shed before he fixed the house. When it was completed I liked it so much more than our unrenovated home (read glorified lean-to shack) that I could have quite happily slept on the shed's new concrete floor. 


When I moved permanently to the farm last year I had all of my boxes stored in the shed, my extensive wardrobe of designer clothing taking up the majority of the space. Soon after my partner developed a twitch. Every time he went into his shed he broke into a sweat and had to walk out. He has no trouble dumping his clothes on the floor before a shower and leaving them there for days, or leaving his dirty socks on the coffee table after a night watching the footy, yet he can't handle things being out of order in his shed. I feel sorry for him having so little say in the interior design of the house when we renovated, so I am happy to have him believe the shed is his domain, his man cave and place to go to think and tinker and whittle wood or whatever simple stuff men do to make them happy. 


What is it about men and their sheds? According to an online article in 'The Gurdian' UK, sheds are apparently good for men's health. Pottering around and doing odd jobs is therapeutic and completing a task gives a feeling of achievement. I have come across some online sites and organisations which fall under the umbrella of the Australian Men's Shed Movement such as The Shed Online which was created by beyondblue: the national depression initiative, The Movember Initiative and the Australian Men's Shed Association. Just like men's sheds the site provides a safe online community for men to share ideas and network and offers information about issues such as health. If a shed can get a man to call a doctor it has to be a good thing. There are others I came across in my search, all with the goal of bringing men together. Scanning the sites felt like I was walking in on some secret mens business I wasn't meant to see. 


It could be suggested that women actually need sheds more than men as a place to get away. Just quietly, I love going in there. Standing at the door looking at all the tools, the mowers and ATVs and the petrol cans, in my OCD dreams I think I would love to organize it a la the Amandas (reality tv is one of my addictions), but I also love that it smells like machinery, oil and hay. I like having to go in there for the ride on mower or to grab a shovel or a pick or something I can do something with. I think you know you are a chick who has arrived in the country when you have an affinity with a shed. 


Reference
The Shed Online, Mens Shed, Men Sheds, The Guardian 

Popolo

I caught up with a girlfriend in Sydney recently and we ate at Popolo in Rushcutters Bay. Sydneysiders love a new restaurant and it is clear they love Popolo. The owners Flavio Carnevale and Fabio Dore are well known in the Italian dining scene and have created a modern Italian eatery and bar which is buzzing and has been packed every night since it opened. Attention to detail is evident - from the simple and sophisticated design, to the styling of the waitstaff to the classic menu, which is inspired by the owners' childhood favourites. I don't get out much, and could have stayed well into the night sipping on the fine red wine, enjoying the ambience. Open for breakfast soon.
50 McLachlan Avenue Rushcutters Bay www.popolo.com.au

Central Coast School of Yoga

I have practiced yoga for over 15 years and taught it when I lived in New York. It is one of the few things that really grounds me and gets me feeling balanced. Moving rural, it has been hard to find a good yoga class. I only live 40 minutes from the Mangrove Satyananda Ashram but feel that the style is too soft for me. I am not self disciplined enough to follow my Gaia yoga DVD and if I try to take myself through a practice I end up in Sivasana staring off into the paddocks. There are classes at the local community hall but the schedule does not fit my own. So after a Google search I found the Central Coast School of Yoga in Erina. If you can get past the 90s office style decor - think red brick, mismatched carpet and fluro lighting - which is difficult for an aesthete like myself, the classes are solid and have a committed following by serious yogis. They have a Hot yoga class - while it isn't Bikrim it gets a sweat going and is toasty on an early Autumn morning.
Check out their website for a class timetable. www.centralcoastyoga.com.au

Ripples

Having had a baby means that my travel is closer to home these days. The thought of a long haul flight with my 8 month old freaks me out, and he is a dream child. My family have land in Vanuatu and we recently returned from a weeks vacation. A new cafe restaurant and bar has opened up in Narpo Point, a short drive from Port Vila, Efate. Literally off a dirt road, Ripples is low key and relaxed. With the Pacific Ocean lapping a few metres away it is the perfect place for lunch or dinner, lunch which becomes dinner or even a sunset cocktail or five. Owners Damien and Sally are from Mullumbimby and have built the place themselves. The fare is amazing. The menu is basic with a Pan Asian/comfort food vibe, and changes monthly. The Balinese pork is out of this world, as are the prawn and tuna skewers. Try a Caprioska or the house Ooh La La (once called Secret Women's Business until Sally shared the recipe). In house pooch India Rose will settle at your feet for any leftovers. 
Open Thursday-Sunday from 12noon. Join them on Facebook.