(no subject)

I have eaten a great deal more cake than I am supposed to. And a big dinner. The big dinner is part of visiting Melbourne. The cake was an exception. Blame sisters. And brothers. Well, just one brother. The other brothers live in Queensland (beautiful one day, science-fictional the next).

Somehow myself and two sisters and a fair sampling of the next generation ended up round a table at afternoon teatime singing a slightly belated 'Happy Birthday' to Mum, and, after dinner, we finished the cake (with a slightly different array of siblings) and wished parents a happy sixteenth wedding anniversary. It confused the non-family present (Friday night dinner at Mum's often has a vast array of interesting souls - 14 in all tonight). The small children just took it as read that Mum and Les had been married 16 years and their children were way old.

Jen gave their mother a quick explanation.

"You're the Brady Bunch," she said.

"The Bradinsky Bunch," Jen and Jacob and I chorused.

The poor lady then realised I had been leading her astray by getting her to agree with me earlier that Jenny and Jacob look delightfully similar as brother and sister. They *do* look delightfully similar, but that is pure happenstance, since they are stepsiblings.

I made reparations later by drying every single dish that needed drying. We think tomorrow the place might be less of a public thoroughfare, which is good because Mum intends to do lots of visiting on her own behalf and I intend to make inroads into the books I borrowed using Mum's library card.

Because I know at least three of you would be interested, this was what we ate tonight (can't give you the wine list, though - all I remember of them is that the rose was appalling and one of the others was a merlot):

Challah

chicken soup with ginger
cream of pumpkin soup (parve - made with soy milk)

roast veal
roast beef
beef rissoles with onion and za'atar
green salad
roast potatoes
various steamed vegies
carrot and pineapple salad

flaming fruit salad

lots of cake
black tea

Leftovers: not much of anything except chicken soup. We will all regret it tomorrow....

Blogfesting, chametz and the importance of outcasts.

I am blogfesting today. Blogfesting is not a terrible and awful disease. Mum's birthday cake cured me of all terrible and awful diseases (didn't cure my bad cold, though - maybe not enough chocolate and coffee in the cake?).

Remember way back when I was writing madly in Katoomba and my guest bloggers were Nicole Murphy and Kaaron Warren and Brian Wainwright? Well, Nicole's anthology is about to be launched officially, so we are blogfesting to celebrate. The first time one's name appears on a book cover is something to rejoice about, and I am rejoicing Nicole's name appearing by encouraging you all to go and buy the book. Speculative fiction short stories by all sorts of fab people, on the theme of Outcast.

Lots of other people are blogging about it. So far my favourite blog is cassiphone, and she has all the requisite links for purchasing copies. This is good, because I am not at my desk and am far to lazy to google said details. You get to learn how on *earth* Tansy wrote a short story that lacked velvet (astounding, really) and then to click through to a place to purchase Tansy's sans velvet story. It's a doddle.

Today is more of a doddle than yesterday. I have completely avoided overeating! Given we are talking an Orthodox Jewish family just prior to Passover and that my mother worries about me and there are all sorts of birthdays and things, I am very pleased with myself.

At lunch today we tried the tea girliejones gave me when she visited. The watching of the pot brewing was a spectacle all by itself. Mum and Les and I sat at the table and just watched and watched and watched the teaball expanding into a small floral scene: it was fascinating. The tea was delicious, too. It should have brewed in one of liliyc's magic teapots. We left a bit of the tea behind, simply because the spray of jasmine and the flower underneath it (made of tea leaf and a small chrysanthemum) were so very beautiful. Mum's glass teapot is currently doubling as a table ornament, and it is all thanks to girliejones.

My secret Passover yearning is for chocolate covered matzah. I don't want any other unleavened bread, just the choc covered variety. I have class? No, I just appreciate chocolate. Mum and I are in negotiations about whether she tells me where to buy some before it all sells out. Apparently it is borderline in its kashruth perfection. How can chocolate be borderline *anything*? If I get some I will bring it to Conjure. If I don't get some, I might get some chocolate for Conjure.

Pre-Passover is always about food. So is Passover for that matter. Food and family and ancient tales and songs. And The Outcast. A very appropriate book to buy for Passover, if you have any Jewish friends. Or for yourself if you don't.

PS We have run out of soup nibbles but still have a half packet of flour. This is very important. Four times a day we survey the cupboard and say "What has to be finished?" I just did this for my fridge - gave cucumbers to very astonished friends - and now I am doing a far more thorough version with Mum. If you drop round to my mother's today or tomorrow the Passover-preparation-bicuits are almond, mixed fruit or chocolate. When they are gone, we get biscuits flavoured with whatever-needs-to-be-finished. My oldest sister has already take a batch for her students. Forget about deep philosophising - finishing chametz is what Judaism is *really* about. (And why do I define 'unique' and not chametz?)