It was my first day of following a system of spending allotted hours on work/chores - from my to-do list, at least, not things like cooking dinner, folding washing, so on, that have to fit around other things and can't be put off anyway - some 'structured' play (because I'm told you're meant to do these things) with Rosie and taking the rest of the day as it comes.
Went for an early walk to Moran's (IGA) - before it got too hot and before she was likely to get tired and fall asleep in the pram, which results in day-nap malfunction.
|Breakfast time. Thank god for onesies |
- in them she still resembles a baby, not
the toddler she really is.
In the morning: Churned through a good chunk of the to-do list. Even made custard. And by leaving it on the stove for an eternity it actually did thicken on its own - why can't the recipe say it takes more than half an hour? Apparently you're meant to stir it while it thickens but I'm not standing at the stove, spoon in hand, that bloody long. The recipe is from the Commonsense cookbook but devoting close to a (pretty much mindless) hour to something that results in less than half a litre of food doesn't sound very sensible to me.
I left the mix to its own devices, gave it the occasional stir to get rid of lumps and whaddya know, I got custard. Proper smooth, thick creamy custard. Which incidentally makes me want to hurl (always has) but Rosie would be hooked to a custard IV if she could and I'm sick of buying commercial stuff, so it was made for her.
Whacked it in a nifty EZ Squeezie thing, handed it over and it was met with approval.
I've been making my own chocolate fudge stuff (dairy and sugar free) for a while and needed to make another batch. Tried a new recipe. Didn't like it. So made a batch of the original stuff and mixed the new stuff in to try and mask it. Kind of worked. Eating the blend will be no hardship, but will stick with the original one in future.
|In hysterics with Trixie. And no, I have never |
before allowed dogs inside. I must
be getting soft.
Later in the morning: Tackled one of my most hated tasks. Fecking filing. Finished it and promptly researched ways to cut down on paper crap. Subsequently swapped what accounts I could to email billing.
Late afternoon: Rosie's lack of sleep caught up with her and she decided she needed to be glued, or, when that was too boring, within arms reach, of mummy for every remaining moment of the day. Glued to me on the trampoline, much wailing when I dared move a few metres away and ducked inside to check on dinner, more wailing when I wouldn't watch TV with her because I was serving dinner, glued to me while we ate dinner... (She was very relieved to get to bed. And she wasn't the only one. )
Earlier, the prospector had come home with a ginormous hamper of Christmas 'goodies'. Seems every staff member got one, provided by the guy who picks up the scrap metal. By 'goodies' I mean processed, sugary, gluteny, preservative-y items generally called food. And a jar of salsa. At least I'll enjoy it. (Yes, it's a lovely gesture and I was impressed and grateful. It's just not the sort of stuff I appreciate like I once did, what with the paleo/clean eating thing. Bah humbug.)
|The hamper, containing about half it's contents. |
I had to pull the rest out so it would
fit in the cupboard.