…trixi the thermomixi!
she’s been a part of our family for about 3 weeks now and has already become an invaluable member (or so thatch and I think anyway; rod on the other hand only just plucked up the courage to try her out for the first time tonight).
thatch and i are really enjoying our morning green juices full of whole fruits and vegetables and I’m really enjoying being able to cook dinner (or dessert, whatever) whilst having a shower and dicing an onion without sobbing uncontrollably.
is there any truer joy than the joy of a perfectly crunchy, perfectly gooey, perfectly perfect toasted cheese sandwich? this may be a slight over exaggeration given that i get somewhat more joy from my family and friends than i do from shovelling my face full of shallow-fried bread and cheese. nonetheless, my love for toasted cheese sandwiches is the single most compelling reason i could never become a carb-free vegan.
in about two months i am probably going to look back on this post and ask myself why on earth I wrote an ode to a grilled cheese sandwich. and the answer is quite simple – dairy and I are in love and nothing can stand between us. we have been in a rather exclusive relationship for the past 34 weeks (yep, just checked my calendar, I am 34 weeks pregnant) and it just satisfies and fulfils me in a way nothing else can. we are meant to be together (at least until little miss in born, anyway). so, as you can see i am infatuated and clearly cannot see reason…
and that is why i was so excited when i walked past toastface grillah and could finally succumb to its irresistible temptation which has been haunting endlessly me for the past six months or so since i first noticed it. this place is right up my alley (see what i did there? huh, huh, huh?) being that it is a funky little café, located down a back alley (and we know how i love anything located down an unassuming alleyway) on barrack street in the city that specialises in – wait for it – toasted sandwiches!!! …heaven, i’m in heaven…
i opted for the simple toasted cheddar sandwich and a small coffee, because when it ain’t broke don’t fix it. but if you are a little more ambitious with your toasted sandwich selection there is sure to be something on the menu that will float your boat including the ‘brie & jam’ (which is exactly what the label says along with a little mozzarella for good measure) and the ‘pear grillz’ (blue cheese, pear and lime chutney) among others. the coffee was nothing special – except for the price. where else can you get a flat white for $3.50 in Perth? – but the sandwich, oh the sandwich… the bread was buttery and crispy and crunchy and awesome. the cheese was oozy and gooey and tasty and divine. and really there is little more that can be said about a toasted cheese sandwich is there? but believe me, it was good.
i still cannot fathom the fact that it has taken me so long to sample the wares at toastface grillah and now that i have finally found it, i only have another week and half to enjoy it before i go on leave (leave, can i call it that? i’ll be busy finishing off the renovations, decorating, studying for and sitting exams, looking after thatcher and getting ready for little miss’ arrival). but i am totally sure that in that week and a half i am going to find at least one reason to pop of down and stuff my face with that cheesy bready goodness. t’face grillah, here i come…
^^taking a proactive approach to self-defence^^
now, I know the first rule of fight club is to never talk about fight club, but I have never been very good at keeping secrets (just don’t hit me)…
as we do every wednesday morning, yesterday thatcher and I joined our friends down at a local
baby cage fighting club park for a gossip and play. for the first hour or so it was all very standard with sand castles being built, scooters being ridden, snacks being eaten, slides being slid and swings being swung, blah blah blah, toddler heaven, blah blah blah.
but then, it started…
the first round was a bit shocking, but nothing we couldn’t deal with: thatch had followed another little boy, who was about 3, over to a tree where they looked to be playing well together, running and squealing. but then it hit me, thatcher was not running and squealing out of fun, he was actually trying to get away from this boy. unfortunately he was not fast enough and when his friend (what else is there to call him?) caught up to him he pushed thatcher over in the dirt. cue the crying and the mummies sprinting across the park. when t’s attacker refused to apologise his mum took him straight home (thanks mum, good call) and after a quick cuddle thatch was back to playing.
until about half an hour later when it was time for the main event (rod watches a lot of UFC, so please excuse my terrible fight references). again thatch was off playing with some new kids and this time there was a football involved. I don’t know what happened or what precipitated it, but out of nowhere this kid – again about 3 – just walked up to thatcher and punched him in the face (WTF?) the obligatory forced apology ensued, but during the course of the apology this same monster child decided that instead of saying ‘sorry’ the situation would be better dealt with by kicking thatcher in the shin! not only was t in shock, but so was I; I didn’t know quite how to react and decided that at that point it was probably safer to head home. so while we quickly packed up and sought safe haven in our car, the monster child was rewarded for his behaviour with a push on the swing from his mum. i guess your child won that round, but that doesn’t worry me at all – i would rather have my sweet, gentle boy any day. we just might not head back to that park in a hurry.
a colleague of mine is due with her baby boy about 2 weeks before me. she is heading off on maternity leave next week and as usually happens, a card was being passed around the office for everyone to sign. when it came to my turn to impart all the wisdom I have to offer about having a baby boy (not very much, I assure you), the one word that came to my mind was how much ‘fun’ they are.
don’t get me wrong, fun was not the word I would have used in those first few days or weeks or, heck, even months, but it sure is the word for the stage we are at now. from the moment he wakes up until the moment he goes to sleep (and I mean that quite literally) thatcher is just one ball of giggling, talking, squealing, happy energy. he never sits still, he never stops and he is always getting into something – whether that be chasing the dog around, raiding the spice shelf, wearing my shoes and handbags, pulling every book he owns off the bookshelf or running laps around the house yelling ‘go’ ….. ‘stop’ and all the while cackling like an evil villain.
it’s not easy to stay in a funk with that kind of crazy going on around your ankles.
he smiles when he sees you. he offers up big bear hugs and sloppy wet kisses. he makes faces and says silly things just to make you laugh – like ‘see ya, mate’ (this came about after swimming lessons one day when out of the blue thatcher waved to one of his friends and said to her: ‘see ya, mate’. naturally we all started laughing and so he pulls it out of his repertoire quite regularly when he wants to get a laugh. all I can say is thank you rodney for that one because I certainly never call people ‘mate’) and ‘cookoo cookoo’ (thank you peppa pig). and he is always up for a laugh anytime, any place.
so, to my soon-to-be mama-of-a-baby-boy, may your son bring as much fun and laughter to your life as my son brings to mine.
^^doesnt he look beautiful with his lipstick on? luckily it was a cheapie and a relatively pale colour… ps. excuse the basket of laundry waiting to be folded in the background. with our laundry currently set up on our front porch, my bed has had to become my folding space.
the other morning as I was laying in bed in that awful limbo state of being awake but not being ready to accept that reality I could hear thatcher reading in his room across the hall. i’m not quite sure which book it was as i wasn’t aware that we had a story about a duck and an ambulance who were saved from a perilous situation by an elephant just in the nick of time, but according to t, we do (or I could totally be misunderstanding the ‘quack quack, wee-aw wee-aw, quack quack, wee-aw wee-aw, mmmmmmmmmm, yay!’ i heard coming from his room).
it was super cute to hear and made it all the more easy to drag myself out of bed on that cold autumn morning (after I snuggled in for another five minutes to find out what happened to the duck and ambulance in the end of the story, of course). i am constantly in awe of the huge personality this little man has and the imagination he is developing – he is unlike anyone else I have ever met and i love it.