Dresses.

On Friday night I went to dinner at my husband's club:

Where we spent the evening bidding on Wimbledon tennis players. I'm still trying to work out why.

Last night we are went to the IXL Long Bar down at the waterfront for a drink with friends who were celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary:

I was their matron of honour. At the last minute I dug out the pink frock I wore same time ten years ago......and decided to wear it as a surprise:

Yes, I wore this out in public on a Saturday night:

You can't tell but I strategically had a whole other outfit on underneath. So after the hysterical laughter and incredulity wore off I channelled Abba and whipped off the skirt and top to reveal bar going attire..........and stowed the folded bridesmaid kit in my handbag:

When we celebrated our own tenth wedding anniversary, a few years ago, we threw a party. This was the photo on the invite:

Our balcony kiss.....on the veranda of my parent's house in Launceston. No palace for me...even though I too, met my future husband in a pub.

We made our guests dress up in what they had worn to their own wedding. Funnily enough, one couple didn't. She chose to sport a black dress. Six months later she left him. The warning signs had been there. My wedding frock was an ivory silk Mariana Hardwick number that I had chosen in Melbourne two weeks before I traipsed down the aisle. Yes, I know that I left it to the last minute.....people were starting to get twitchy. It wasn't through want of trying, my mum had made it her mission to make me try on every single wedding dress in Tasmania.

Back to the party. We had the chaplain from our son's school renew our vows. It was a secret. We introduced him and his wife to everyone as they arrived and after a few drinks he tapped his glass, pulled out his dog collar and performed the ceremony......while everybody giggled uncontrollably. I gave my dress a second outing yet left off the veil and accessorised with a pretend fur wrap:

 

Then we went for a romantic second honeymoon to the uber cool Karma Kandara in Bali:

 With our three children.

R

PS I've linked this post to the Post of the Month Club over on Life at Planet Baby.....thanks Jane!

Thalia.

This is Thalia:

She is one of the nine muses who preside over the arts and sciences, her particular forte being comedy an poetry. Now she sits on our mantle piece in the living room. We bought her from the Vatican Museum in Rome:

She came with a certificate proving that she is a fake yet we still had to have a security escort from the museum to prove that we hadn't stolen her. She is made from marble dust, yet she weighs a tonne. I like to think that she surreptitiously inspires everyone who lives in our house. Maybe that's just wishful thinking....as I can't say that any of us are particularly comic or poetic.

Isn't it strange the memories that you remember from holidays. One of the most vivid from this trip to Italy nearly two years ago was driving in the hills behind the Amalfi Coast:

Along a very narrow, very windy road one of our children (who is a notorious chucker) lost his pasta lunch which had been consumed less than an hour before in a restaurant perched high above Positano:

Lunch had been idyllic (our children adore Italian food and they never had to be bribed or cajoled to eat anything in Italy) yet the consequences were not. Don't think we were totally unprepared....we had trained him to vomit into a bucket, yet on this particular day he opened the car door and promptly tipped it onto the road. Except that it wasn't a road but rather someone's driveway and they were sitting in their garden. Even the sight of my husband picking up vomit with his bare hands and a very pregnant me assisting him (which of course meant doing everything other than touching it) couldn't make them relax their froideur. We were given the hose.....luckily our Italian wasn't up to translating exactly what they were saying about us. Just as we were about to leave we opened the back door of the car (to reunite the bucket with it's owner) and they saw our three children. Instantly, their crankiness evaporated. They were beaming and exclaiming and squeezing the cheeks of the chucker....and even we could translate 'tre angeli'.

Yesterday, I had lunch at Smolt at Salamanca Square:

It's good there. If you live in Hobart or a planning a trip.....book a table. Their food is a little bit Italian. This was the roasted beetroot, asparagus, artichoke, caramelised pumpkin puree, hazelnut and Persian fetta salad:

It was the perfect salad for a winter's day, although you would think that 'salad' and 'winter' wouldn't usually go together. I'm happy to tell you that they do. If you can't get to Hobart, never fear. You can cook Smolt's Cauliflower and Taleggio risotto with anchovy pangrattato at home:

(Image: Gourmet Traveller)

Find the recipe from Gourmet Traveller here. Cook it. It is delicious and it is exactly what you want to eat over the weekend in front of the fire.

This is what I wore:

And just because I can, I'm doing Tree Stand. If you are inclined, you can read about my jeans here and my jacket and scarf here. My favourite handbag got an outing and then at 4am this morning I realised I had left it within reach of the beagle who has been known to chew his way through handbags on his quest for food. I don't know about you, but with a baby I always have food in my handbag as it's the 'get out of jail' card in a sticky situation. It is instant appeasement. So I panicked. And I had to get up and go all the way downstairs to check......on this occasion my handbag was safe. Phew

R

Kitchen.

This is my kitchen this morning, complete with my sidekick:

This is my kitchen now having just cooked chocolate brownie for afternoon tea:

I cheated and used a packet - if you know me pick yourself up off the floor as you know that I have NEVER done this before as I usually cook EVERYTHING from scratch. For $8 I bought this:

After five minutes of everyone having a stir, followed by half an hour in the oven (the box said 40 minutes yet mine was possibly a tad overdone even after 30 minutes) we ended up with this:

And considering the almost zero effort that was involved, it was not bad. Although I shudder to think of what might have been in it. I couldn't help myself and tried to salvage it with organic butter and free range eggs.

I spend a significant part of my life in this room:

I always coveted a chandelier in the kitchen and this house came with one in every room. My mum said it was a ridiculous thing to have in a kitchen as chandeliers are notorious dust collectors. She was right, but I still think it's beautiful.

This is the view of the backyard from the window:

You can see my veggie patch reproaching me for it's neglect. As are my cumquats which are desperate to be turned into Moira's cumquat compote:

This is my narcissistic collection of 'R's':

I bought the elephant as a souvenir of our trip to India last year:

On our way out of Udaipur I had the car stopped so that I could run into the shop to negotiate it's purchase thinking I would never see it's like again. I shouldn't have bothered as they were for sale at Mumbai airport......for less. It was worth it though as it conjures up memories of this.......sigh:

Because I am a creature of habit, I went to Bikram Yoga this morning.....my sixth class in as many days:

It may have been five degrees in downtown Hobart yet it is always 40 degrees in the hot room. So if you feel like a tropical interlude that also works out your mind and body, why not give it a try? I go for preventative healthcare and because it is cheaper than therapy. I take my medicine here. If you live somewhere other than Hobart, find your closest Bikram Yoga studio here. Later tonight, once I've fed the masses, I think I might go back for a second dose. Well, I'm wagging tomorrow as I'm going out for lunch.

R

Wintery.

Look, this morning there was snow on Mt Wellington:

Although it's difficult to see as the top of the mountain has been shrouded in cloud for most of the day. Don't worry though as the temperature is still in double digits (only just).

Three of my children went back to school today (yes, two were wearing shorts). One was so keen to go that she had already left by the time I took this photo:

The one that riffles through all drawers, puts toilet rolls in the loo and tries to stick her fingers in power points stayed at home. I was glad of her company as all of a sudden, it was lonely.

As usual, I left all back to school preparation until the last minute. Yesterday, we did hair:

And then we had to go and buy school shoes. Yes, after only ONE term of wear the Midford school shoes that I bought at the start of the year had to go in the bin as they were worn out. So at my husband's suggestion we went to Tradewear in Elizabeth Street. This is where you would usually go to buy industrial and protective clothing if you are in a line of work that requires such clobber. So, in I go with my four children and a pram in the quest for industrial strength school shoes. We had received a tip off that the iconic Tasmanian bookmaker, Blundstone, now makes school shoes. They do, although we were nearly talked into 'the shoes that the Royal Family wear to school'. Except, they had flowers on the bottom of the soles and I wasn't sure how that would go down in an all boys school. So we bought the Blunnies and am hoping that they will last until this time next year. Fingers crossed.

R

Jane.

So I'm going to ask you to cast your minds back into the mists of time. Way back to the mid 1990's. Do you remember when Pride and Prejudice was on the tele and Colin Firth was Mr Darcy? I will admit that I was besotted. It coincided with when I met my (now) husband - we went on a date the night the first episode screened and during our courtship he gave me this:

I knew it was serious. Even more so when we went on a five week motoring holiday in the UK - fourteen years ago. As a sign of his devotion he drove the car to these destinations on a Jane Austen/Pride and Prejudice pilgrimage.

The Jane Austen House Museum at Chawton:

Jane Austen actually lived here. Admittedly, it was only for the last eight years of her life, yet this is the only residence that you can visit. The house that she grew up in and spent most of her life in, the Rectory at Steventon, was pulled down - supposedly a tree planted by one of her brothers marks the location.

From there we moved on to Bath:

And Lyme Regis:

Where walked along the Cobb - the site of Louisa Musgrove's fateful accident in Persuasion.

Then we moved on to the Piece de resistance - Lyme Park:

Aka Pemberley where the Pride and Prejudice TV series had been filmed. I stood by the actual lake where Mr Darcy (Colin Firth) stripped off and went for a dip:

In case you have forgotten, or never seen (quelle horreur) this piece of television mastery, you can watch it here.

Here's my own Mr Darcy - fourteen years ago:

Needless to say I married him and I can't say that I fancy Colin Firth anymore. Do you?

R