Tis the Season

I've had a pretty good run on the rabbits. Even on a slow day, I see three and my personal best was eleven. That was, until today.

The rules of Train Rabbit Spotting are simple: keep your eyes peeled for fluffy bunny-kins, and be really sure it was a rabbit that you saw and not a clump of grass - they can look remarkably similar. Rabbits are very blendy. If you recognise a whole ane real rabbit, it can counts as "1" and is added to your total score.

It's not as easy as it sounds, mind you - there's quite a bit of skill involved not to mention the aforementioned maths and remembering your score. From the window of the train, you're quite a long way from the ground. The train is pretty quick too so you really do have to keep your wits about you. Rabbits are notoriously small when compared to trains moving at speed so you can't look too far into the distance because there is no way you'll see a rabbit, but if you look too close to the train you'll get all squiffy and it'll hurt your eyes. There is a sweet spot, and with practice, you'll find it and then you'll be away! I've discovered that the 6:17pm train to Swan Hill is the perfect service for maximum rabbitage, and it was on that service this evening, that I smashed all previous records.

Today was spectacular in cementing the Swan Hill train as the Number One service to great rabbit counting stats. Tonight I saw more rabbits than I could count! My best effort was 27 rabbits - the counting being the limiting factor in this particular session. There were rabbits everywhere! Seems rabbits like this hay season, and the long, golden sunsets that bathed the evening most of the way home. While Willo is a much sharper rabbit counter than I am, he was not on the train this evening and I was also pretty confident he had never counted as many as 27. So it was with haste and glee that I blatted home in the Mini, wanting to burst in and hit him with these new benchmarks. I mean, what a great day.

Crashing through the front door my 27 rabbit smile was knocked off my face by wonderment by what greated me. The gorgeous pine scent filled the room, and the great, fat Christmas tree filled the alcove in the lounge. Willo had set up a Christmas tree!

It's so beautiful and so green and smells amazing.

Willo says there are rules with this tree. He had hesitated last evening when I asked if we could go get a tree this weekend - the hesitation before he answered me sounded more like he didn't really want a tree than he was actually thinking about it. Not a man to muck around, Willo got the tree into the house today and now he says, I have to decorate it and if the results of that aren't *amazing* he gets to burn the whole thing. He will judge the tree when I'm done, and I have about a week to get it done.

How exciting!

So we seem to be mashing up Easter, Christmas and Guy Fawkes around here but all and all - today was a pretty bloody brilliant day. Worth 27 rabbits and a fir tree anyday!

Do you have a tree this year? How are you decorating it? If you don't have a tree, do you have any central symbol of Christmas in your house?

Sunday Update

Seems an update on a Sunday is all my brain can manage at the moment. Work is challenging and good, and taking all my attention - as usual. Going to work harder on separating my day job from my after job life.

Maybe that's my goal for 2012 - getting some decent work/life balance, as they call it. I bet my attitude is tied to my complete lack of create activities. I think about drawing a lot; I buy piles of sketch books, handsful of pencils and paints; consider the processes involved in screen printing fabric almost daily; but I'm not actually doing anything. As Merlin Mann says, there comes a point where you just have to *do* and I'm all rutified and not "doing" any of these things.

I really need to remember who it is I am and get on with being me. Remember her, Michelle? the creative, interesting one? Pretty sure this working version is only a small facet, cos man, how depressing would it be if it was completely who I am?

The Wrong Guy by the Right Guy

I've had a crush on John Siracusa for some time now but lately after listening to his 5by5.tv Hypercritical Episode 42: The Wrong Guy I have fallen head over heals for this podcast. When John hits full flight on things he cares about, he's an absolute delight. Oh to be such a critical, quick-witted thinker! His knowledge, obssessions, irks and passions have become such a huge part of my commute on work-day mornings. I listen to both Hypercritial and The Incomparible - another podcast he sometimes appears on - the latest Empire Strikes Back sessions are wonderful.

In this The Wrong Guy episode John talks about his disappointment with the biography Steve Jobs: The Exclusive Biography by Walter Isaacson. John is singularly annoyed with the job Isaacson has done, especially given the exclusive access he had to Steve Jobs. John doesn't believe Isaacson is a very good interviwer and didn't dig into important details with Jobs so as to reveal more of this man's personality and motivation. That, along with Isaacson's editorialising, apparent lack of quality research and inaccuracies, really has become a beautiful bee in Siracusa's bonnet.

Kitchen Update

We're still waiting for the benchtops to arrive and be fitted. They said it would take a couple of weeks, so here's hoping they'll arrive this week being that it is now, well and truly, a couple of weeks.

It's a bit like camping around here with a bucket for the dishes, extension cords and junction boxes powering the toaster and coffee machine. It's been okay for a while but it's starting to wear a bit thin. Mostly because the camping attitude has cascaded through to a lackadaisical (completely on my part) approach to dusting, hoovering etc. Our meals are all a bit fast and furious - tending to lean heavily on toasted sandwiches, salads and other lo-fi affairs.

Now I think about it a bit more, I'm ready for Jamie Oliver's recipes to take centre-stage again in the kitchen inspired by his 30 Minute Meals show. It's going to be fantastic when it's all done, the sink is in, the benchtops on, the dishwasher hooked up, the gas hob and oven all wired in.

Fingers crossed it's this week folks for the benchtops and then the sparky powering up the appliances very soon afterwards.

Saff's Cafe, Castlemaine

On Saturday we decided to go out for breakfast. Cereal is okay for a while but both Willo and I need a cooked soluiton every once and a while.

After a few work things cropped up, we lost the morning and it wasn't until about 1pm we got into the truck and made our way into Castlemaine. It was a wet old day, and by the looks of the creeks and gutters, Castlemaine had had a lot more water than we'd experienced out at Newstead.

We actually don't eat out much here at all. After living in the city for years, close to cafes and restaurants, I would have thought our habits would have had us discovering all the best eateries in the area but no; we mostly prefer to eat at home. The kitchen's incompleteness has seen us looking to other ways to get some breakfast eggs.

Saff's Cafe in Castlemaine is bigger than it appears. It's a cosy place. Even when it's quite busy there's somewhere to sit. We ordered our eggs - Willo had savoury scramble eggs, and I had a bacon, lettuce, egg, avocado and tomato sandwich.

It was unbelievable delicous and the perfect size. We both finished at the same time, washing everything down with bloody marys - what a perfect breakfast.

I declare there is nothing wrong with Saff's Cafe, and if you're ever in town, drop in for food. They have great looking cakes, good coffee and an extensive and varied menu.

Publc Inn, Castlemaine

After our breakfast, we were joined by some friends. We needed a place to wait for an hour and a half as other friends were coming up from Melbourne. We decided to try the new (ish - been there about a year, I think) Public Inn a block down the road.

Rumour has it that the new owners had spent a pile of cash rennovating this old bar. It was now a restaurant and bar.

We stayed for a few rounds, sitting outside under the awning that kept most of the rain from us. I watched people walk in and walk out. Mostly the Public Inn was empty - and it doesn't surprise me. Apart from the unwelcoming feel of it, it's just too pretentious for Castlemaine. Maybe it's super busy later in the evening but we were there for a couple of hours in the late afternoon/early evening and they couldn't capture any of the customers who popped in to take a look.

Castlemaine does need a couple of good bars, and it looks like the Public Inn has really tried - certainly spent some serious coin on the joint. But it's far too City-slickers, and not enough country-wholesome. Know your audience, I say. Country peeps are friendly - I didn't find the Public Inn welcoming enough to give it a second try. A smile goes a long way.

Gorgeous visitors loving the Lego movie

Weekendness

Weekends are often good. Like it's said of pizza and sex, even when it's not great, it's is still not bad (bonus if you get pizza AND sex during your weekend, I guess).

This weekend was a good weekend. Not for anything spectacular or special - although Willo's brother Ian is visiting and that's always nice - but we're not doing anything different, or anything extraordinary. Just hanging out and watching movies, spackling plaster and makin' websites: it's just, good, ordinary, everyday stuff.

Right now I'm at home on my own, bodging together a website for the Newstead Swap Meet, while the boys are out fanging around in country Victoria. The dog is asleep at my left elbow. He smells like he's rolled in three dead things recently. My bare feet are plying the rustic shag rug that keep the cool of the slate floor tiles at bay. John Siricusa is knit-picking his way through the Steve Jobs' biography on my iTunes as I catch up on my favourite 5by5 podcasts.

How's that for a sanctified, certified, glorious Michelle Sunday afternoon? I'm pretty happy with it.

Hope yours was good to you, too.