Where I Live

A Nora Ephron inspired blog hop, what I'm reading and eating in April & What I Learned When I Couldn't Enjoy Anything: An Interview with Ceire Turner

Apr 28, 2023

I live in a suburb where the fences look like they had a hard night. There are a lot of grown men riding push bikes around here, but there is no Lycra in sight. They’ve lost their licences and are riding to Coles to get milk. One time I worried about what people might think if I wore my ugg boots to Coles, but I wore them, and then I saw a woman in the freezer aisle in her full pyjamas, dressing gown, and ugg boots. I am pretty sure one of my neighbours is a dealer because of all the grown men on pushbikes who come to his house with a Coles bag and leave after five minutes. We wave and say hello. My neighbour has a friend who helped me break into my house one time when I got locked out (wearing a hoodie, no shoes, and a baby on my hip). After he broke into my house with disturbing ease, my neighbour’s friend said to me, “this never happened, right?” and I was like, “I don’t even know who you are,” and then he disappeared. That must have been four years ago, and I still have not made my house any more secure.
I live in the kitchen. It is small, and I can reach everything within one step. Sometimes I stand in the middle of the kitchen and rock from side to side like a drunk octopus, putting cups in the cupboard, plates in the dishwasher, spices in the pantry, and vegetable scraps in the compost. The children swirl like little fish in my wake, lying on the floor, sitting on the counter scooping seeds out of pumpkins, taking single bites out of peaches and discarding them, or opening both the pantry and fridge doors at the same time so the whole kitchen is enclosed and only the toddler can escape.
I live at the washing line, where I do my prescribed squats. I’ve been told this will build muscles to hold my loose joints so I won’t hurt anymore. Down to grab clothes, up to peg, down to grab clothes, up to peg. My son, George, meanders by to inspect the work before proceeding to scoop cups of water into a bucket of dinosaurs. Sometimes he is irresistibly lured by the hose. My best thinking happens at the washing line, mulling over a report, a Bible study, a client, a playgroup scheme, or an essay.
I live in the laundry. I saw a sign once that said “laundry is not a job, it is a state of being,” and I think about this more than is really healthy. I can’t tick a box for the laundry, and that bothers my Type A mind. The laundry basket is like my inbox and I try to tackle it every day. I have lived with not only a singular washing mountain, but washing ranges of clean clothes to be folded and put away. I do not wish to return to these days of yore.
I live in the Little Shed. It is cousin to the Big Shed, where my husband takes himself out to make furniture. My husband converted the Little Shed into a room with carpet, white walls, shelves (with boxes of clothes and home canned pickles), a deep chest freezer, a bed, an air con, a TV, a jarrah desk, and a computer. Above the desk is a paint splattered window that looks out into the back yard. It is impossible to lock the Little Shed from the inside so an important part of working there is sneaking out so the children do not know you are there. Sometimes I do bleary, bra-less yoga at 5am and mumble quiet prayers, sometimes I march my children out to the Little Shed to watch cartoons while I take a nap, and sometimes I chain myself to the desk with an alarm clock to write reports. One day, I want to take myself out to the Little Shed with a cup of tea to write, call myself a Writer with a capital W, and not laugh.

Click here to read the next one in the series.

I’m Loving

I was inundated with amazing Christian testimonies this month! Margaret Greaves passed on Devoted: Great Men and Their Godly Moms by Tim Challies and Gay Girl, Good God: The Story of Who I Was and Who God Has Always Been by Jackie Hill Perry. Rach Steadman recommended the Compelled podcast, which is all Christian testimonies and stories. Start with Hannah Overton, a mother who was falsely accused of murder and sentenced to life in prison. Finally, Zac has been watching the One for Israel YouTube channel with eight minute testimonies from Jews who have put their trust in Jesus. All excellent.

Joy is the oxygen for doing hard things. Yes and amen!

Leaving the wellness influencer lifestyle. Fascinating. Read it along with this long (but 100% worth it) article explaining new research that shows social media can cause mental illness in teenage girls. Lastly, Britt sent me Is Therapy-Speak Making Us Selfish? I have many thoughts. Keen to discuss!

There is nothing more humiliating to me than my own desires. Nothing that makes me hate myself more than being burdensome and less than self-sufficient. I did not want to feel like the kind of nagging woman who might exist in a sitcom… If there were some kind of rehab for people ashamed to have needs, maybe this was it.

Stationary nerds: I discovered THE MOST AMAZING Bible highlighters. It’s a game changer if you’re trying to break up with your phone. Highlighting forces me to pay attention. You can’t click any distracting links with a paper Bible! Cardigan optional.

On the kitchen front: mushroom recipes are easing me into winter. Mushroom risotto with dried porcini mushrooms is 100% thrifty but feels luxe. I never knew mushrooms could be so delicious 🤤 For what it’s worth, I didn’t bother with the fancy mushrooms on top and it’s still good.

Or make a pasta bake with bechamel sauce, cherry tomatoes, fresh ricotta (from the deli counter), with pan fried mushrooms (I’ve tried it with olive oil, garlic + sage and butter, garlic + sage - both delicious!). Top it with lots and lots of mozzarella and bread crumbs for a crispy cheesy top and bake on 180C for about half an hour. 😍

Finally, Mel Kelly passed on this lifesaving porridge hack. I love stove-top porridge but the half hour process is impossible for a weekday morning. Instead, pour boiling water over your oats (so 1 cup oats to 3 cups water) with a pinch of salt, pop a lid on the saucepan, and leave overnight. In the morning, just bring up to the boil and stir leisurely for a minute or two. Add a dash of milk at the end then cover in copious amounts of brown sugar, cinnamon, and grated apple. Game changer!

If you have any winning winter meals, please share!