Noms Blog in a Teacup

Posts from the “memoirs” Category

Brrrrrr…..

Posted on June 11, 2015

Gosh it’s cold tonight. I’m not a fan of the cold, the rain, the wind or anything remotely chilly. Except perhaps an Irish whiskey with water on ice. As a kid we would jump on frozen puddles on the way to school, a thick layer of ice covered the tops, waiting for us to smash em’. The frosts were harsh in Clunes and the grass would stay white for hours after the sun was up. We would run through the icy grass listening for the crunching blades under our feet. Granted it’s not as cold as those mornings back then, or as cold as it’s been here in Melbourne recently, or probably going to get in the near future, but I’m bloody cold right now. My toes are icy in my…

Bob’s your Uncle… nah, really he is!!

Posted on June 10, 2015

When my Great Uncle Bob passed away, it was truly one of the saddest days of my life. I loved that man. I loved everything he was and every single thing he stood for. I loved his humour and his quick wit; his demeanour and his sincerity. Everything about him was on face value, you earned his smile and his wink, his hand shake and attention. He was a great man. I found his funeral pamphlet going through some stuff today, and it made me smile. My earliest memory of Bob goes way back to an age when the whole family spent Christmas together. Summer days were stinking hot and the nights were not much cooler. Days where games of back yard cricket in the G Marts…

Tater Patties

Posted on May 19, 2015

A Facebook conversation between my sisters and a friend tonight got me thinking about how my love of food goes back quite a ways. From Mum’s spag bog to the G-Marts bickies, it all makes me smile. It’s only when those people are no longer in your life that you think, fuck, I really should have paid more attention to them cooking it, or actually learnt to cook it. Having said that, I have been lucky enough to be able to recreate a number of Mum’s meals. After Mum’s death I made it a point to be able to cook a few other famous recipes of the cooks in our family. The odd dish of the bunch would be Mum’s ‘Tater Patties’, otherwise known as…

Wire Racks are for Dinkin’

Posted on May 2, 2015

Growing up in a caravan park for a few years of my life was not ideal, however there were moments of excitement and fucked-upness. The caravan park is in the middle of Clunes, stretched out along the banks of the Creswick Creek, directly across the creek from the footy oval. Friday night through the summer meant basketball at the two courts on the edge of the caravan park. It was a healthy competition, mainly filled with aging retired footballers who played footy on a basketball court more than the basketball they were supposed to be playing. The odd fight and random kerfuffles were the norm between the Grass Hoppers and the Young Farmers. It was really busy, dozens of cars parked along the wire fence ready…

Chloe Elizabeth

Posted on April 15, 2015

I wasn’t a huge doll lover and never owned a Barbie or Ken doll. To be honest I thought Barbie was over rated; even more so when my sister got the ‘Twist n Curl’ Barbie after she was diagnosed with Viral Meningitis. Clearly in our house we had to be on our death-bed to get anything remotely cool, so just not wanting them was easier than the disappointment of never receiving something that you really fucking wanted. I remember being so jealous of her. I hated that Barbie. I owned a Crissy Doll though. She was almost as tall as me, with bright red hair that pulled out through a hole in her head to create a long pony tail. A string hanging out of her…

Just Take Those Old Records Off The Shelf…

Posted on April 14, 2015

I sit and listen to them by myself, todays music aint got the same soul, I like that Old time a rock’n’roll. Bopping away in my car this afternoon a song came on that I haven’t heard in like a BILLION years. ‘Old Time Rockin’ Roll’ being belted out by Bob Seger. Classic? Hell yes, but that’s not only why I love it. For me, and all my Grade six classmates it brings back the days of the Jim Welsh Dance Studio; and ten weeks of dancing lessons every Friday for two hours. Gosh it brought the hugest smile to my face. Grade six was, in no doubt at all, the best year of my school life. I loved that year. I loved my…

Dolls, Clowns and Freddie.

Posted on March 7, 2015

I’ve watched countless horror movies in my life. I grew up in the television glow of Fright Night, Thriller, the Twighlight Zone series, Nightmare on Elm St, the American Werewolf In London, the evil clown in IT and that crazy arse creepy fuck Chuckie. The eighties saw a plethora of horror flicks made and I watched all of them, seemingly fairly unfazed by the exposure. The nineties introduced the world to Interview With a Vampire, Alien, Silence of the Lambs, Candy Man and the Blair Witch. All a very differnt type of horror, the horror I knew was changing. But it was brilliant. The thriller horror grabbed you by your knackers and sat you in your seat. My bestie and I spent many Friday and…