Teecino evenings

On a day where there was so much buzz and excitement in the work environment, I woke up feeling about as sharp as a pillow and a gravelly voice to match. I'm hoping a big pot a teecino (coffee flavoured tea - huh?) and a night in with Girls will sort out my health woes. 

Busy Bacon Makin'

Sometimes I behave like there are thirty hours in a day. I left work at 5:30 and did a 4km run with my old amigo Lenny. Between the run and my regular Tuesday night 7:30 Walking Dead club, I snuck in some speedy cooking and made raw coconut, white chocolate and raspberry fudge (courtesy of Not Quite Nigella), and prepared some coconut flakes for their delicious bacon fate.  I shall keep you posted on their respective success.

The coconut bacon lineup. 

Beautiful Things Don't Ask for Attention

The Secret Life of Walter Mitty.

Locate copy. Watch. Love.

Thursday Night Tunes

My oldest, bestest and recently vegan lady friend came around for dinner, we made baked potatoes with Kinda Bacon, 'chicken' avocado caesar, and had whipped banana and chocolate ice cream for dessert - followed by pots of tea and numerous episodes of Girls. I do think she may be hooked. Simple nights in with a precious friend who I do not see nearly enough.

Rainy Sundays in the Treehouse

Rain is, and always has been, my favourite weather.  It replenishes my plants, cleans the air and washes all the city grime away.  It provides me the perfect justification to stay inside and catch up on all the films I have missed, or the book I haven't managed to finish. I love that a backdrop of grey clouds and an opaque sky mean the green of plants is so vivid and vibrant, and a concrete jungle looks glossy and new.

I have seized the opportunity to have a cooking bonanza, making misr wat (Ethiopian chickpea and pumpkin curry), eggplant parmigiana (par cooked then frozen, ready and waiting for a lazy weeknight dinner), plus a mushroom, bacon (of the animal friendly variety) and broccoli vegan frittata. My apartment smells like rain, spices and incense. That's not a complaint.

Now to treating myself to the long-awaited Secret Life of Walter Mitty,  plus a big pot of cinnamon and orange tea. I wish every day was as relaxing as this.

Palentines Day

Valentines Day is definitely not my favourite day of the year however 2014 was pretty spectacular. My very talented and amazing hairdresser skillfully cut off a good chunk of my hair, which had become pretty unkempt with the sun/hairdye/lack of love. I do love the new 'do, but as is always the way when you do something a little dramatic with your hair, I just feel odd, like I am missing something. Afterwards, Lady Lin came around and we rode our bikes to Sweet Bones. We had a cute little lady date with some Monteiths and a delicious polenta and grilled tempeh stack.

After successfully badgering Mr Chardonnay into coming for a drink, he joined us 'just for one'. Flash forward to 2AM dancing at Transit Bar, being the only suckers on the dance floor. Flash forward again to a very wet ride home involving a rather precarious dinking experience riding on Betsy's rear rack. I think my life may have flashed before my eyes more than a few times, but hey. Alive now. Palentines day success.

Even Lady Lin and my bikes were feeling the love. Buda and Betsy make a cute duo. 

A Soundtrack to Drizzly Day

These are my favourite types of days, perfect for the best film soundtrack I have encountered in a little while.

Mini Break to the Sunshine State, Part Two.

The National, as expected, was impressive. Beyond impressive. So impressive I really just cannot convey how great they were. It feels like it was part fate being able to see them, which really only added to the greatness of it all. They're one of my "bucket list" bands to see live, and I would see them one hundred times again. Incredible.

Also a noteworthy mention should go to  Bear and I's breakfast the following morning at The Green Edge - boy, did we conquer that breakfast mountain. Smokey strips, tofu scram, mushrooms, grilled asparagus, beans, grilled potato, avocado, sourdough - all in the most epic of portions. We specifically returned to this cafe after reading the contents of the Big Breakfast. No regrets. The owner of the shop was just darling, who magically appeared like some kind of Kinda Bacon genie - just appearing from seemingly nowhere, offering us an open packet when we were discussing it after noticing it on the shelf.  Three packets later, I realised this was a very smart move by the Kinda Bacon Genie.

After we rolled our engorged selves out of The Green Edge, we visited the Cai Guo-Qiang Falling Back to Earth exhibition at GOMA which was gosh-darn inspiring stuff. In particular, the Head On installation which was created for the Deutsch Bank, inspired by the turmoil in Berlin's history.  I found it to be a very profound piece, which conveyed so much with relative simplicity.

Mini break to the Sunshine State

I couldn't help but take a wing shot. No one was next to me so I didn't feel too idiotic. And so the mini break begins. 

There's something so charming about air travel. I also have a strange thing about meeting people at airports/being met at the airport. Bear met me at the gate (one million points), with a latte (bonus), and a cuddle (and we have a winner). Like the beginning of Love Actually - there's just something so warm and fuzzy in the atmosphere at the arrivals gates at airports - even more so when someone special is there waiting just for you. 

Pies with a side of "Kinda Bacon": the kinder bacon. Also kinda like crack.

Oh, Bardon. You're so handsome. 

Now. Red Star. How do I love thee, let me count the ways. I had my first Red Star cold pressed coffee at the West End markets a couple of months ago and I've been dreaming about it ever since. Finally reunited at the store in West End, it didn't dissappoint. For all who don't know, their cold press coffees are like an iced coffee without the trimmings, and only subtly sweetened with the deliciousness of blue agave. Heaven in a cute amber bottle.

The West End is my favourite place in Brisbane. Book shops, op shops, unassuming boutiques, record stores, and men who can walk down the street playing a ukulele without anyone raising an eyebrow. I refrained from buying many an impractical but pretty thing. Observe exhibit A, the perfectly preserved vintage picnic set. But if I OWNED one I WOULD have picnics, yes?

Unfortunately the op shop wallpaper was not available for sale.

Curse you, reflection! The image above the writing is of shitty looking kitties.

Prepare the pancreas. Diabetes incoming.

Tunes for the Road

I am a very big fan of list making. Perhaps even a little obsessed, and I plan on peppering this blog with endless lists of top 5's and 10's. The below list was inspired by the Extra Long Weekend where I drove for a good 10 hours within a 30 hour period. Spotify was my faithful companion out there on the otherwise lonely open road. Worth it.

Top 5 Tunes for the Road

 

I think Bruce Springsteen might just be my number one artist for road trips... I am almost certain this was inherited from my Mum, I have super fond memories of cruising down the Clyde Mountain in her Ford Capri listening to ol' Brucey.

Brick, Enamel, Wood.

The best and only place I spend my Sundays.

GTM 2014

I cannot wait for this tune to enter my ears live in 2014.

Elvis and Meles Meles

Last night I celebrated the farewell of my best friend who is returning Brisbane. I don't think she's ever once gifted me with something I didn't immediately fall in love with, for example she once gave me a notebook with one of my favourite creatures on it - Meles Meles. Problem being that I loved so much I can't bring myself to use it for its intended purpose. 

To comfort myself given her impending departure, I bought blue suede shoes. Not as good as Bear herself, but they are pretty slick.

Farewells included visiting Multi Culti after a long session at Wig and Pen and successfully converting my amigos to the greatness that is Stone's ginger wine on the rocks. Particularly hysterical was also that we were ordering doubles and appeared to be seemingly downing a much more hardcore liquor than we were.

These same friends also laughed for a solid minute on account of my awkward small talk skills. "Is she singing in English or what?" was used on three separate occasions with people we'd bumped into. 

All things Velo

This red beauty is Betsy. She is a Papillionaire brand bike I picked up through the online classifieds. Her former owners had a jug dog named Sexy Bob, a wicked mo' and lived cute bedsit in the Inner North. I feel like me and Betsy were meant to be.

Rupert, my former bike, is going to a friend who is currently car-less. He's going to have a nice life, thanks for the memories my loyal cycle friend.