Autumn falling and catch up

This week marks the official start of autumn here. It's crept up, but there's no denying it. Going barefoot at home in the evenings is no longer an option (I really should replace my uggs that fell apart years ago, but were never replaced, nor needed in L.A.) and the setting sunlight has stopped infiltrating my showers through the bathroom window at face level. Instead, it's been replaced by steam as I crank up the hot water.

I've started eyeing off the gas fireplace, wondering when it will be time to figure the damn thing out and and start using it. Back in my London days, I used to have similar internal dialogues - when is too soon to pop on the central heating? To bring out the scarves? The gloves? The heavier coat? I used to battle through October, too stubborn to concede to the increasing chill, because for some stupid reason I drew a red line under November as being the appropriate time to give in. If I gave in to extra layers and heating sooner, what I would I do when things really got cold?

I wonder if my ego will be as stubborn for this coming Washington winter. I just want to be warm.

The colder change in seasons might be is a depressing bitch, however there are a few things I'm enjoying right now.

New boots

A few weeks ago, I ordered some new rain boots online for myself and the girls. They had grown out of their boots from last winter, and as for me? I don't think I've owned a pair of rain boots since I was a preschooler. I certainly have no memory of ever wearing them, but if ever an occasion calls for it, it's going to be my first autumn and winter in the Pacific Northwest.

I found reasonably priced boots for the girls, but due to my own size 12 (US) feet the same could not be said for me. Cheap rain boots in my size? Nope, I searched but could only find fairly hideous and unflattering styles. I'm vainer than I usually let on, so I'm now the proud new owner of Hunter boots. I'll confess to eyeing them off for a couple of years now. In L.A, they seemed like a frivolous purchase which would only be truly needed from time to time, so I could never justify the cost. I know it'll be a different story here in Seattle and two days ago, I finally got to break them in. I felt pretty stylin', which is a rare feeling for me.

Food 

Cooler temperatures equals an increase in appetite, right? I'm digging the pears that are in season, but sadly they are the healthiest of my cravings and vices right now. There is a Metropolitan Market (kind of like Whole Foods) right near the Faery's new school, and parking there is certainly easier than attempting the nightmare that is anywhere closer to her school... so guess where I park most afternoons for the school run? It's especially convenient for grabbing bread and milk as needed, but also means the temptation for cheeses in all shapes and form (which they are currently spruiking all month long) is right there in my face. I can't resist.

I've also rediscovered the bliss of a baked potato that's been smothered in sour cream and sweet chilli sauce. It's totally the sort of thing I lived off as a poor uni student, and I've only recently found what an easy, filling lunch it is. The bad news is I no longer have access to a gym like I did in Los Angeles, nor have I found a (convenient) yoga class to join. We are heading back to Australia next month for my sister-in-law's wedding, and it's not looking good for my arse.

Leaves 

Of course, I have to mention the autumn leaves. Seattle has an amazing amount of evergreens, and that knowledge makes me feel a little happier about a winter that's not full of depressingly bare trees (I'm looking at you, London)... but for all the firs, spruces, cedars and pines - of which I mostly cannot tell the difference - there are still a lot of maples beginning to blush red, and each night of rain and heavy winds has resulted in beautiful swirly colours on the streets. I have a feeling there's a lot more to come, so I'll have a good excuse to get out my DSLR again. Definitely prettier than L.A. at this time of year.

Crime TV

With the darker evenings, I've become a little hooked on a couple of crime shows. This is a little odd because I've never really been into them before, but J and I stumbled across a remake of a Danish show called The Killing. I suppose the factor that pulled me in initially was that it's set in Seattle. Like many shows, it's not actually filmed here but a few hours away in Vancouver. Nonetheless, it has the Pacific Northwest vibe down pat. The story takes place in October and November, so all the outdoor scenes are chilly and wet. It's gloomy, grey, and the actors get around rain jackets, thick woolly jumpers (pullovers, sweaters, whatever) and heavy coats. It's dark and atmospheric, with a pretty cool female lead detective character - no makeup, hair pulled back, no nonsense. Watching it makes me want to curl up even more, with an endless supply of hot chocolate (or red wine).

Courtesy of BBC America, I've also been drawn into a smaller British whodunnit drama, Broadchurch, and caught up on Luther (which I highly recommend). I'm not even sure why these shows are appealing to me right now, but for now they are scratching the right spot. Next on my list of shows to catch up on is Homeland. Breaking Bad's finale is this Sunday, and I can't even go there - I've invested so much into that series and its characters that I have no idea how I'm going to deal with the inevitable conclusion. It's been a ripper of a ride.

Emily

We're not the only ones in this house feeling the cooler air. After a humid summer, especially with our bedrooms upstairs, Emily The Cat has decided that our bed is once again the place to be overnight. In typical aloof cat style, over the summer she'd deigned our laps too hot for her in the evenings when we were watching TV, but suddenly our laps are back in hot demand. Emily-laptime and crime TV have been going hand-in-hand recently. Don't tell her, but I'm kind of enjoying her furry hotwater-bottleness again.

I haven't linked any of my posts in a long time, so when - after having half-written this post already - I noticed that the first of this week's writing prompts on Mama Kat's Losin' It was to "share something fall related that you did", it seemed the perfect time to join in.

Click HERE for link.

Semi Wordless Wednesday: Instagramming

I suppose I could tap into my (long ago) Fine Arts studies and write a lengthy discourse about the popularity - and ease - of the Instagram app on iPhones, versus the more complicated science art of SLR photography... but I'll spare you.

I'm new to the world of Instagram, but am currently addicted. Who knows whether it's just a passing phase for me? I'm simply enjoying leaving the home less often with a heavy camera. Lazy? Yep. I do love my camera, but sometimes it's not a bad thing to take a little break from what we love.

Anyhow, if you happen to be on Instagram too and a) want to follow one more person and b) help me build my list of followers into the double digits (Wow, how impressive would that be?) I can be found as @madinla.

Linking up with and then she snapped: Wordless Wednesday but with words.

(Click here)

Refresco

I'm not much a of a soft-drink girl, but I've been drinking an awful lot of this lately:

Thirsty? That's my problem. This heat makes me crave super sweet cold drinks more than usual. Normally, Coke is just a hangover cure for me (not that I have much of a call for that these days)... but over recent weeks, I've found myself buying a small glass bottle on an almost-daily basis. Bad.

These bottles of Mexican Coke are only $1 a pop at my local shops, and meet several of my rules regarding Coke.

The first rule is that it always taste nicest from glass. The second rule is that Coke sweetened from sugar cane (as opposed to high fructose corn syrup) is always going to taste better than its American counterpart. Oh, and my third rule is to never drink the diet or sugar-free versions. Not only is it a taste thing, I just don't see the point.

An added bonus is that this black liquid solves my conundrum of settling for less-than-mediocre coffee when a caffeine fix is also required. That's what I call a win.

And hey, this Coke habit is definitely cheaper than preferable to the other kind of Coke habit. I have so little in the way of vices these days... no one stands between me and a good old sugar hit.

Subtitles unavailable

Without getting into the pros and cons of kids watching TV, lets just say that I belong in the 'whatever gets you through the day' camp.

Some days are easy. I'm in a groove, I'm relaxed, and I'm on fire - in terms of entertaining the Faery and Miss Pie. Stimulating their little brains, and all that. Other days... well, the TV is my saviour.

When the Faery was a toddler in Australia, we figured out which shows were okay for her to watch.

By 'okay', I mean the visuals, voices, or songs didn't leave me wanting to bash my head, repeatedly, against a wall, and start downing glasses of wine at 10am. Shows such as Hi-5 had that effect, so that one was definitely avoided. If you're not from Australia, I dare you to click on the link. The off-key singing and costumes will make you want to vomit... not really selling it, am I? I also try to minimise exposure to Dora The Explorer, for my own sanity.

Shows that we liked (or weren't horrendously offended by) over the years were:

- Play School 
- The Wiggles
- Bindi: The Jungle Girl
- Sesame Street
- Go Gabba Gabba
- Curious George
- Pingu
- Thomas & Friends
- Maisy
- Pocoyo
- In The Night Garden (seriously, what substances had been imbibed by the creators?)
- Peppa Pig
- Shaun The Sheep
- Fifi & The Flowertots
- Charlie and Lola

(Photo source)

Okay, so some of these still left me wanting to bash my head, but not as violently.

A large portion of the shows are British, because that's just how it seems to be in Australia - more British children's shows than Australian or American. As annoying as some of these shows were (hello, Fifi) I didn't mind having them on in the background because their accents were so lovely - especially the ones with regional voices. I always have time for a Scouse or Yorkshire accent.

Moving to the US, I realised we wouldn't have access to quite a few of the Faery's favourites any more. I was fine with that because as long as Sesame Street and Curious George were around, I knew I'd have a babysitter for at least an hour or so a day when needed.

I learned very quickly that Barney & Friends brought out the worst in me. He was banished.

For a while, our cable package included the Nick Jr channel, and a whole lot of old favourites from back home were available to us again. Joy! However, that joy turned to disappointment when I noticed that many of the British shows had been dubbed with American accents.

It's nothing personal about American accents, but I can't help wonder why this was done. Some head honcho of some company, somewhere, decided that American children may not understand British accents, perhaps? If so, give me a break - that's underestimating the intelligence of kids. Or maybe it was done for their parents' benefit? Who knows.

Shows such as Peppa Pig - where the voices are mostly from the south of England - have been left alone. However, Thomas & Friends, Fifi & The Flowertots, Maisy, and Bob The Builder (with voices from the north of England) have all received the dubbing treatment. It's a little sad, really. They had the best accents.

We no longer have Nick Jr. We only have one of the PBS channels that airs Sesame Street, Curious George, and a handful of other small children's shows. Before we stopped getting Nick Jr, I recorded a stockpile of some of their better shows on the DVR... but thank god for Netflix and it being able to stream Yo Gabba Gabba to us. That show has saved many a day.

And as I type? Miss Pie is ensconced in a Maisy DVD that I'd forgotten about, and have only just dug out.

Thank you Netflix, and thank you DVDs.

It's been too long...

...since I last had Tim Tams.

Thankfully, visiting family were able to provide

me with a new stash last week.

Share? I don't think so.

That half-eaten Tim Tam was the last one

from that packet. They were very good.

Luckily, I have more.

Even more exciting? They're from a range

 of new flavours - ones I've never had.

I can't wait to try some tonight.

Which pack to open next? Mint? Or Rum and Raisin?

When the Tim Tams are all gone - which won't take long -

I have a Plan B.

My latest love affair.

Yes... I love chocolate...

Bobbing, weaving and darting

The Faery is a balloon addict. Hell, what kid that age isn't?

How lucky for her, then, that the staff at our local supermarket are very keen to foster this addiction. They are her enablers. Most visits end with her clutching a helium-filled, logo-emblazoned balloon on a string, a lollypop attached so it won't blow away if she lets go - we all know how traumatizing that can be, and I don't just mean for the child.

Bubbles of annoyance

I'm not such a fan of this addiction. I find it annoying. Not just because sunken balloons seem to breed in our home, but because of our journeys home from the supermarket. These trips are always on foot. For a long time, the Faery had major anxiety that she'd accidentally let go of her balloon, or that it would burst if bumped against one of the many trees we walk under. This resulted in me having to carry the balloon for her.

Pushing a stroller with Miss Pie that's already laden with groceries underneath (and often a full bag that's dangerously hung off one handle), one-handed because I'm usually getting my caffeine hit, can be a tricky affair.

To have a helium balloon bobbing around, weaving and darting in front of my face? Annoying beyond belief. I savour my supermarket trips on the days when the Faery is at preschool, and balloons are out of the equation.

In recent months, she seems to have overcome her worries, and now carries her balloon. Life has been just that little bit easier. Thank god, because we are currently without a car again, and the supermarket gets to see our faces on a daily basis.

So imagine my joy this morning, when at the self-service aisle in the supermarket, Miss Pie began pointing wildly at some nearby balloons, and speaking excitedly in Swahili (well, I don't know for sure that's the language, but it sure sounds like it). She's now at that age where she can make it very clear what she wants.

Imagine my joy when the nearby attendant - a lovely lady who adores my girls and never fails to lavish attention on them - understood her Swahili, and reached for the balloons.

Not one, but two balloons: "For your big sister as well, because she's at school."

What could I say? She meant well. With a long sigh, I exited the shop and began the walk home. Heavy stroller, coffee in hand, and two helium-filled balloons bobbing around, weaving and darting in front of my face...

Bagged and chilled

If this had been written five years ago, it would have been about my handbag addiction. Sadly, small children and limited funding put that vice to rest. Instead, it's the simple things - like a group of brown paper grocery bags plonked onto my kitchen bench - that (sometimes) satisfy me. How sad. It's the hippy child in me that likes to rear her frizzy-maned head at times, though. I could go all environmental here and rant about the evils of plastic bags, but I'll spare you. Plus, I'm just as guilty as the next person of violating the planet at times, so it would be hypocritical of me. But yes, I like paper bags... even if they just end up being receptacles for my recycling.

What's inside?

However, I like paper bags even more when they're holding delectables like these:

Meet some of the loves of my life...

I've had a longstanding love affair with Ben & Jerry's ice cream. I first fell in love with these tubs of heaven when J and I were living in the UK. Movie nights at home rarely didn't involve a whole tub of this goodness split between the two of us. We were younger then, and our metabolisms were faster... well, a little faster. Then we returned to Australia and I had to go cold turkey. No more Ben & Jerry's because it wasn't available. Six years without. I missed it so much, and then last year I heard a rumour that they were opening their first store in Sydney. Being pregnant at the time, I was super excited. I kept checking their website. There were some delays along the way, and I was hormonal enough to call their head office to pester them for details. Then came November, and the store finally opened. I waddled in, barely able to contain myself (or my belly), but just about fell over when I saw each pint-sized tub was selling for AU$11... say what? Heaven just got more expensive. Fortunately, now that we're living in LA, I can easily consume entire pints from around $3 or $4. Oh, happy days...