Back and bad

So I’ve been back in Sydney for a week and barely done anything exercise-wise. I haven’t broken a sweat more than once. Granted I have had a bad cold and am currently battling a sore and cricked up neck, but sitting on my ass isn’t going to get me anywhere good.

So today, a 7km walk (in 2 parts). Not amazing, but it’s something. I could have just got public transport instead.

See more progress on: do some form of exercise every day.

No more words

One minute I was rushing around gulping the last mouthfuls of coffee, washing breakfast dishes, packing my bag and brushing my teeth in my haste to leave the house and be slightly less late than I’d otherwise be sans rushing.

Then I noticed my mobile. Call from parents house. My Mum often calls at inopportune times, and in my early morning stress-out, I have no time to answer. I’ll call her back later today.

Next time I glance at the phone I notice 3 calls from my Mum’s work number.

Weird. Why am I getting called from both places? As by then I’m literally about to walk out the door, I wait until I’m downstairs to listen to the first message (no mobile reception in the lift or lobby).

As soon as I hear my dad’s voice I know there’s something wrong; messages from him on my mobile are rarer than days when I’m on time in the mornings. I call him back with trepidation, my mind racing. He called me, so he’s ok. My Mum’s at work, so she must be ok. I got emails last night from both of my brothers, so unless something dramatic happened overnight, they’re ok.

In hindsight I should have been worried about my Babushka, that she’d fallen again or something. But the words stumbled out of my Dad’s mouth so quickly I didn’t have time to go through any other options.

My cousin. He’s dead. He drowned at the beach yesterday. He was away on holidays up on the north coast.

Suddenly I think back to yesterday afternoon. Sitting home procrastinating and reading the smh.

I read a story about my own cousin’s death without realising it.

My Dad tells me what little more he knows, but it isn’t much. We talk a bit, both crying, then say goodbye and I love you. I then call my Mum and do much the same. By this stage I’m halfway to the GPs office that I’m currently sitting in with.

Really, in situations like these, what can you say? Nothing you say or do is going to bring anyone back, provide solace or make anyone feel good. Sometimes there are no reasons, and questioning why and going through alternative scenarios only leads to torture and mind fuck. What if he had gone to a different beach, at a different time? What happened in those last minutes and what could and couldn’t have been prevented?

Sometimes, a lot of the time, there simply are no answers. No clue. Nothing fixable. That’s hard to deal with.

I know I was numb for most of the day. A few patients I saw I wanted to scream at – those complaining about a sore knee or other ailments. I wanted to scream “You’re alive! Don’t take it for granted because it can be taken away in minutes, when you least expect it! Don’t sit there and ask me for sympathy about Centrelink cutting your pension off and asking you to attempt to look for work. Looking for work is not going to kill you!” And so on.

But I didn’t scream. I made it home. And then I looked at his facebook profile. And then I google’d the story again.

And then I broke down.

Postcard from Vietnam

Well what can I say? I've now been in Vietnam for pretty much exactly 7 weeks. And what a 7 weeks its been! One of those times where it feels like just yesterday that I was back home in Sydney packing my bags, and yet at the same time my first arrival into Saigon feels like a lifetime ago.

The first 4 weeks were spent sweating it out in the heat, humidity and traffic of Saigon, with a few weekend escapes, Christmas and NYE thrown in for good measure. Oh, and a month of work in the delivery ward of a major maternity hospital!!

Then we spent a week travelling north to Hanoi, where we had a rude shock weatherwise. We went from 30 degree days in Hoi An to the 10 degree winter chill of Hanoi in an hour. Hanoi is currently experiencing its coldest winter in 20 years, with daily temps 10 degrees below average. Schools have shut down, animals have been dying and we have been freezing our toes off!! We had our last day at the surgical hospital here a few days ago, where we've seen a lot of neurosurgery - the majority resulting from motorbike accidents, a sobering thought when you look at the traffic on the roads here.

I've been diligently taking hundreds of photos, but am sadly falling behind on uploading them to flickr - I'm still up to Christmas eve!!!

But here's a few from the first few weeks here...



Crazy Saigon traffic. Note the lack of helmets. A new law making them compulsory came into force the first Saturday we were here. Every traffic photo taken after this one is a sea of helmet wearers.



Some of the amazing food we've eaten. Friends in Saigon treated us to an amazing steamboat feast one night!!!



Some beautiful countryside to be seen once you escape the city edges!



Crazy enough to hold a snake. The brave before pic, and the scared after one as soon as it was wriggling around too much. Eeeek!!!





Proof that we did actually make it to hospital!!



Lazing on the beach on Christmas eve. That seems like a lifetime ago, especially in this cold!!!



A bit of patriotism, appropriate for the upcoming lunar new year. Chuc mung nam moi!!!!

An awesome salad

With A down in Melbourne on weekdays (a fact I may have neglected to report here) I'm left alone to fend for myself. My solution to this last week was to catch up with friends for dinner every night, an endeavour that left me well socialed, but tired, poorer and lardier than before.

Thanks to the Melbourne Cup this week, I'm only "home alone" for 3 days. Tomorrow afternoon I'm heading down to Melbourne myself - and hopefully escaping the deluge that has engulfed Sydney for the last week!!

What I have decided is that these 3 days are going to be the start of Operation "Me Time".

I'm going to take advantage of this time to make healthier meals than I might if I was feeding both A and me, and to cook all the things I love, but that he finds less agreeable. Namely a lot of salads and soups - lucky its soup weather at the moment!! A is gradually being converted to soups and salads, but is not the biggest fan. There's also other things he doesn't eat - like tofu, eggs and spinach - that I'm bursting to cook.

As part of this, I want to use up some of the random ingredients cluttering up our fridge, freezer and kitchen cupboards. I've got tapioca that I bought 4 years ago sitting in the pantry, 2 falafels left over from a Lebanese meal in the freezer, and more dried porcini mushrooms than I can poke a stick at. It's all gotta go!!

Apart from food, other things I want to do with this "Me Time" is continue to clean up the mess that is our kitchen cupboards, second bedroom and the verandah. These feel like never-ending tasks, but I hope I can make a dint in them.

Doing some more study, and working on my honours project wouldn't go astray either!!

Before I go, here's the salad I made tonight:

Yummy chicken, sweet potato and haloumi salad

• Lettuce and rocket leaves
  
• 60g chicken
• 90g baked sweet potato
• 15g grilled haloumi
• 1 tablespoon toasted pine nuts
• 4 cherry tomatoes
• sliced red onion
• dressing: 1 teaspoon olive oil, 1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar, juice 1/2 lemon, cracked pepper
  

Very tasty, and very filling - in fact next time I might cut down the portions - especially if I'm eating late.

And right now, I need to finish packing!!

Washing Betty - long overdue!

A washed, and I polished. Was way easier than I thought it was going to be, despite the shockingly dirty state she was in.

Can you believe I have owned her for nearly 3 years without ever having washed her before? The shame!!!

But now, ain’t she beautiful!!

This needs to happen a lot more often!!

Mmmmmmmmmilkshakes!

I'm not normally one for guzzling down too much milk. Sure I have it in coffee, and I have the occasional glass of Milo, but I can easily go a week without consuming more than 500mL of the stuff. Likewise, I'm never really tempted to order a milkshake when out. Unless the magic word "spearmint" appears in the title.

After that, the chances of me *not* ordering it are slim to none.

Ok I must come clean, I'm just generally a mint hussy. And normally the mintier something is, the better^*. But somehow spearmint - the milder cousin of peppermint - works best in these shakes. It gives it a light and sweet taste, that combined with soft bubbles of milk is just pure delight to imbibe.

Unfortunately a spearmint milkshake is not that easy to come by. After more than half a decade's searching, I can still count on one hand the number of establishments I know that serve them. And now that Poppies of Stanmore has closed down, the number within a 20km radius of my house is now zero.

I was once so desperate to obtain some spearmint milk that I cajoled my mother into visiting a wholesale confectioner in her city, and allowing them to sell her a 2L bottle of the mint-flavoured syrup. She succeeded, and that bottle kept us in good supply of milkshakes for well over a year. After that bottle though, our source literally dried up.

When I visited Broken Hill at the end of last year I was delighted to visit Bells Milk Bar; a 50s style milk bar serving a massive variety of flavoured milkshakes.


Image from www.bellsmilkbar.com.au.

I was even more delighted to discover that spearmint was one of those flavours.



I was even more delighted to discover that they sold bottles of their homemade syrups, which I promptly bought. I am ashamed to say that for nearly a year this bottle sat atop my desk, unopened.



But today something cracked, and I decided a spearmint milkshake was in order.

Perhaps it was my anticipation in going to Melbourne next weekend to visit A, and knowing that one of the few reliable spearmint sources resides at the Queen Vic markets there. Perhaps it was just time I cleaned up my desk. Either way, it tasted great. And made me keen to seek out another source for when this 250mL bottle runs out.

If you know of one, please do let me know!!

---

^* The only occasion this has even been shown not to be true is when I accidentally bought mint flavoured water in China. It tasted like I was drinking toothpaste backwash.

attack!!

Thanks to not realising it was daylight savings, and turning up to my yoga class just as it was finishing, I was a little more awake (and in a slightly worse mood) than usual when I got home and watered my plants this morning.

Perhaps that’s why I noticed that they had been attacked by evil caterpillars!!

Image thanks to flickr.

It was the mint that I first noticed. Mint is nothing if not hardy, so I was immediately suspicious when I saw that a few of it’s leaves looked a little moth eaten. Evil plans don’t just make themselves, you know.

Closer inspection revealed a couple of dark grey looking caterpillars. Ugh. After having lost a battle with caterpillars on my rocket earlier this year, I wasn’t relishing the though of having to repeat the experience.

Observation of my other plants revealed a similar invasion. My basil had been all but demolished by a number of the green suckers.

Despite the copious foliage, my tomato was also under similar attack by a mixture of green and brown suckers.

This particularly disturbed me, because the first of the plant’s fruit had just started to appear. I’m desperately hoping I get some to eat before I got to Vietnam!!

The only herbs that are (so far) immune to the caterpillar’s attack are the lettuce, chilli and parsley. Fingers crossed they stay that way!

1. Lettuce, 2. Chilli, 3. Flat-leaved parsley

Needless to say, I wasn’t going to take this lying down. When my rocket suffered a similar fate earlier this year, I lost the battle despite using slug and snail pellets, and a combination of soap, garlic and chilli (a method I devised, but must have read about it somewhere though surely?).

I was aware this wasn’t going to be easy, so I pulled out the big guns – Google – where I stumbled across this recipe for an organic bug spray. Deciding it looked suitably caterpillar-toxic, but person-friendly, I thought I’d give it a go. After all, should it survive, I do want to eat this stuff!!

Spraying it onto the plants certainly had some effect. At least 10 caterpillars dropped off and died. The tabasco also went right up my nose, and a few hours later my hands and lips are still tingling.

The question is, how many caterpillars remain?

See more progress on: grow an herb garden