OK, all you Australian musos out there. You'd better go through all your songs and make sure all your melodies don't have any bars that are similar to bars in any other piece of music ever composed. And while you're at it, it's probably best to go through all your lyrics and make sure no one else has ever recorded anything similar. If you do find any similarities, you'd better track down the holder of the copyright and apologise profusely for ripping off their creation. And give them money. Or you might find they sue you.

Australian writers, you'd better do the same. Go through all your books, and make sure you've never used a similar idea to any other story, or the Gods forbid, used a phrase another author has used. Withdraw these stolen works from sale, or send the originator some money as compensation.

And Australian filmmakers, and visual artists, same applies to you. If any of your work looks similar to someone elses, or you've been inspired by another artist's visual style, you'd better send them some money to acknowledge that you've ripped off their creations.

Come to think of it, any restaurant serving confit of ocean trout had better send a portion of the profits of each plate sold to Tetsuya Wakuda, seeing as he was the first person (as far as I know) who first thought of confitting ocean trout.

See, it seems, if the copyright holder of a particular piece of music can convince a judge that a piece of music you wrote has a sequence of notes that's similar to a sequence of notes in the first music owned by the copyright holder, the said copyright holder can claim a huge percentage of any money you've made from the music. Even if the context, pitch, key, and instruments used in the playing of the notes are completely different.

And even if the copyright holder gouging you had nothing do to with the creation of the piece of music in the first place.

( At least that's what the Australian Federal Court has decided. )

For the past few weeks, the fibro has been back with a vengeance. I haven't worked a full week since early December and I'm generally not a pleasant person to be around ('cept when I'm thinking about food).

The pain and sleeplessness has been particularly bad this last week, so I've been knocking myself out before going to sleep with drugs. I know it's A Bad Thing, but trust me, when you are in severe pain and can't sleep, you'll do anything, ANYTHING, for a few hours of pain-free numbness.

Today I found out exactly just How Bad A Thing this behaviour has been. My regular massage therapist returned from holidays yesterday, and the massage session was ... OW. Lots of OW. She was scared to work too hard, and suggested I should see her again today. I made the appointment, figuring I could cancel if needs be.

When I woke up this morning, the bed clothes were in a shocking state - sheets pratically ripped off the bed. This is weird for me, because generally I sleep like a log. By the time of the appointment, I could barely move my right arm, my right shoulder was so stiff. Thank heavens I'm strongly left handed, or I wouldn't have gotten anything done. There was a great deal more OWing during the massage.

The massage therapist thinks I've been spasming in my sleep, only because the drugs have knocked me out, I haven't been able to wake up to try and exert control or relieve the muscle spasms. Not only that, blocking the pain receptors (as heavy duty pain killers do) can make the spasms worse. Given the state of the bed clothes this morning, last night's spasm must have been quite severe.

So, happy joy joy. Fortunately, I took the last of the sleeping pills on the weekend, and the heavy duty pain killers this morning. I have renewal scripts for both, but I'm not going to fill them until I'm back on a relatively even keel.

And drinking chammomile tea to try and get some sleep at night.

GRRRRRRR..... Channel Ten is being typical... that stupid dance thing is going way over time, which means Burn Notice will be starting late.

Still, this will give me a chance to tell everyone about my mother's 70th birthday.

For her 70th, Mum wanted to get my Bro and SIL from Melbourne to have lunch at a Sydney restaurant. Specifically, Aria. We figured a weekend would be easier for them, because of work and kids, and the Bro and SIL were quite keen on the idea of getting away for a day and having a darn awesome lunch. Trouble is, Aria isn't open for lunch on a weekend. We've found another place to go next weekend, but I thought, darn it, Mum wanted to go to Aria for her birthday lunch, she's going to Aria!!

So, I rang and made a booking, and mentioned it was a 70th birthday celebration. My original plan was to sort of kidnap Mum on the day and spring the lunch on her as a surprise; but then I read an interview with Heston Blumenthal where he talked about anticipation being a big part of enjoying a meal. Plus I couldn't keep the secret, so I told Mum she would be having lunch at Aria on her birthday.

When we got there, we were shown to probably the best table - in a huge window overlooking Sydney Harbour and the Opera House (it's gotta be one of the best views in the world). The staff were lovely, the food was terrific... and then at the end of the meal Mum got a small cake and candle, with "Happy Birthday" written on the plate in chocolate. So all in all, a truly memorable day, as it was supposed to be.

Oh yeah, she liked Bullitt too.

This was going to be posted last night, and there were only going to be 2 tips rather than 3. However, I did not post last night because of what will be Life Tip #3.

#1. Do not use champagne flutes as molds for strawberry panna cotta, even if Nanny Ogg says so. Especially if Nanny Ogg says so.
At the Saturday cooking, we went with Nanny Ogg's cookbook (from Discworld) and did the Strawberry Wobbler (which is basically a strawberry panna cotta in a very specific mold). We made 2 of them in the champagne flutes to get the shape recommended by Nanny Ogg (think about it). The rest we made in dariole molds. I took the 2 from the champagne flutes to the Baronial gathering.

Now, because of the shape of the flutes, the wobblers were hard to get out. And when I did get them out... well, just imagine, if you will, what very pink, opaque jelly looks like when it's been set in a champagne flute.

Many of the men were very disturbed.

#2. Keep your inbox under control.
Over the past 2 weeks, there have been literally thousands of emails generated on the various Kingdom of Lochac lists. And "thousands" is not an exaggeration. The volume of email has been such that I've been scared to look too closely at my various inboxes. As a result, I've missed a couple of discount vouchers, some order notifications and hassling an online store about a matter they'd attended to (but I missed their reply). I'm now clearing out the inboxes, so I don't miss anything else.

#3. Always, always, trust the head.
And here we come to why this didn't get posted last night. Yesterday, around 4PM, I started to get a very sharp pain over my right eye, my left eyelid started flicking, and I started to feel very queasy. I call this sort of pain a "pressure head," because it's generally brought on by the change in air pressure preceding a thunderstorm. There'd been thunderstorms predicted, but when we checked the weather tracker, there was not a hint of any storm within 500 km. By 7PM, I was feeling extremely bad, so I curled up on the couch and watched The Italian Job (I have very odd tastes in comfort movies).

Around 8:30PM, there was a massive, long rumble, and bright flashes of blue light. For the next 4 hours it was like living on Heathrow's main runway, the thunder was so bad. At that stage (around midnight) I took a very strong painkiller because there was no other way I'd get to sleep.

I just received a very scary phone call.

See, it's my mother's 70th birthday very soon, and the phone call was from my brother, asking what his family can get her. Why is this scary? My brother and his wife are absolute CHAMPIONS when it comes to giving "WTF?!! gifts (or, to be more polite, mathoms).

One of the most memorable was the year I asked for the extended edition of The Fellowship of the Ring as a Christmas gift ("asked" is relatively mild - try "begged," "pleaded," "really really emphasised" and you're closer to the mark) and I opened the present ... to find the non-extended version and a voucher for a Melbourne day spa (when I was leaving Melbourne 4 days later).

My mother really loves jewellery. One of the favourite things she's ever received from me is a silver crucifix, made by an SCA jeweller, and is a replica of a C12 Danish cross. I know it's a favourite because she wears it pretty much all the time. So the bro' and the SIL often get Mum jewellery - but their choices often seem to be along the lines of "it's jewellery, therefore it will be fine." And usually it's not as good as it could be. Not only that, Mum has severe arthritis in one shoulder and her fingers, so she finds short chains with clasps difficult, and prefers long chains she can just pull over her head. Bro' and SIL haven't grasped this yet, even though Mum has told them repeatedly.

So when Bro asked what to get her, I said, as Mum has said, she doesn't want anything - we are taking her out for a nice lunch. She's not just saying she doesn't want anything, she actually means it, if it's not something she really wants. But, they do want to get her something, so I suggested an Oxfam Unwrapped gift, something Mum really loves, as the money is going towards something that's really needed rather than another useless trinket. Or, failing that, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Neither suggestion went down very well, so I suspect Mum will need to prepare for yet another mathom.

BTW, I've ignored the "nothing" thing as well. I hunted all around in DVD shops for Bullitt, but couldn't find it... fortunately I was able to order it online. Actually, I ordered 2 copies, because it's rather rude to give someone a gift that's either opened or constantly being borrowed from them.

I was going to do a post on how my mother's birthday present showed up today, making me very happy, but there's a thunderstorm overhead, so Odysseus (my 'puter) is getting turned off now.

In case you are wondering, the present is a collector's edition issue of Bullitt, featuring the greatest car chase ever filmed, or ever likely to be so. It's one of Mum's favourite movies.

Oh yeah... here's a picture of the Seecrut Project (involving badgers).

http://i33.photobucket.com:80/albums/d83/clawrie/100_0902.jpg

Too tired to set up an image.

I've finally done it. I've finally ordered my KSM 150 KitchenAid Mixer. Whoo-hoo!

I'm glad I held off until now, before Christmas they were around $40 more expensive. And because they were also on sale and I don't have one, I also ordered a 3.8L cast-iron casserole. I realise this is not the weather for cooking with a casserole,* but by the time casserole weather rolls around, the price will have gone up considerably. Now I just have to find somewhere to put them...

Speaking of toys and purchasing same, over the weekend my mother and I decided it was time to get set-top boxes for the digital TV, because the analogue signals are getting switched off "soon." After much cursing and swearing, I got Mum's set up, but the reception was really dodgy, so we disconnected it, and Mum's going to get someone to look at the aerial. Remembering the pain I went through connecting a DVD player and VCR to my TV, I started to get a bad feeling. Now, my TV is a superceded model I bought 8 years ago. Yup, I couldn't get the set top box connected to my TV at all, no matter what I used from the vast array of connectors, cables and thingummys I have here. No doubt there's some way I could get the set-top box connected... and then probably, the TV will blow up in a few month's time.

So I think the simplest solution will be to buy a new, digital TV. I was going to buy one this week, but then I found out the mixers were on sale, and I'd rather buy the mixer than a new TV, because my existing TV works fine aside from not being able to pick up digital (which doesn't particularly bother me). And then, apparently my region isn't having the analogue signal switched off until late next year. So it looks like I can put off buying a new TV for a while yet.

Although, if the ABC decides to put the next seasons of Storm Hawks and Wolverine and the X-Men on one of the 2 digital channels, my decision will be moved up a lot sooner.

* It's 10:30PM, and 32 degrees C in the kitchen. In Melbourne last night, it was 39 C at midnight. That's over 100 fahrenheit, I believe.

Hey, everyone, I'm still alive!

And I have to share this with everyone. You may have noticed in my rather sporadic posts last year, references to a Seecrut Project (Involving Badgers). This was a project for the Kingdom of Lochac Worshipful Company of Broiderers, and is to be a presentation piece for one of the former queens of Lochac.

It's done. I've finished it. FINALLY.

I'll post a link to a picture on the weekend. I don't want to risk the recipient stumbling across a picture before the presentation. Of course, if the subscribes to the company mailing list she'll see it, but anyway.

Now I can do other stuff without feeling guilty.

I had some veal mince in the fridge to make meatballs... but I've eaten too many meatballs lately. I also had some leftover sheets of shortcrust pastry in the freezer (when you have to make a large mound of triangular pasties, shop-bought sheets of pastry are better than making the pastry by hand). So here is what I did:

500g veal mince (or any sort of mince)
1 large onion
1 egg
1/2 cup bread crumbs
2 tsp mixed herbs
Salt
Pepper
2 sheets shortcrust pastry
Glaze made from tbs cornstarch and 2 tbs water

Preheat oven to 220 degrees celcius.

Dice onion. Mix mince, onion, egg, bread crumbs, herbs, salt and pepper in a bowl with your hands.

Cut each sheet of pastry in half. Brush the edge of one of the halves with the glaze, then spoon the mince mix on the opposite edge and roll up the pastry. Make sure the edges are securely pressed down. Continue until you've run out of pastry and mince mix.

Cut each sausage tube into thirds or quarters, then lay on a tray with the join side down. Brush with glaze and sprinkle with poppy seeds or sesame seeds (or any herb or spice you think would work).

Bake in the really hot oven for 15 minutes. Then turn the oven down to 190 degrees celcius, and bake for a further 20 minutes.

***

They were a bit dry and under salted. The dryness could be overcome by including bacon, or dunking in tomato sauce, which would also help with the seasoning.

I really need a better cooking icon.

You will be pleased to know I haven't been swallowed up in the dust storm that engulfed eastern Australia this morning. Though a lot of it was deposited in my lungs.

I've been Creating. At the end of October, I'll be doing a Roman feast, using recipes taken from Apicius (the one who killed himself when he realised he wouldn't be able to live in the manner to which he was accustomed, because he'd eaten away his fortune). I thought it would be interesting if we could get people wearing Roman garb as well, only no one seemed to know much about it, so guess who's been making Roman garb. It's been fun, and there should be pictures soon.

Work on the Seecrut Project (Involving Badgers) also continues, I should actually have the damn thing finished before the end of the year. Possibly even before the end of November. This will make the Worshipful Company of Broiderers very happy.

And if I ever express a desire to undertake a project involving couched gold cord on velvet in an intricate design, I will get someone to lock me in a dark room with a large supply of DVDs, excellent tea, chocolate coated coffee beans and really nice cheese until I see sense.

I had a crappy week at work last week. After a couple of weeks of only minor hassles, the fibromyalgia came back and screwed me up. Then a project that's been consuming vast amounts of time turned ugly. But I won't bore you with the details, and don't ask anyway, because I don't like to talk about bad work stuff on my blog. Still, it was bad enough that I broke out some cooking wine when I got home (before anyone freaks about be drinking cheap stuff, my cooking wine is what wine lovers drink. There's no point using crap wine in food).

I've had a bit of a cooking frenzy this weekend. The sumac chicken salad was amazing, the ginger shortbread was lovely, the macaroons... didn't work. I didn't read the bit in the recipe ingredients that said "50g egg whites, beaten to soft peaks", I just read the "50g egg whites" and the macaroons spread into manky, runny globs. They taste OK, but they ain't macaroons. I'll be trying the lamb shanks tomorrow.

Still, the cooking frenzy has worn me out. When the time came to go to the Baronial gathering this afternoon, the thought of getting up made me whimper. My head had the staticky feel that fibro gives me*, so I decided to stay home and veg. And scour the internet for stuff. I'm thinking I need a proper mixer - I have a hand held one that's OK, but gets mighty tedious when whipping egg whites. And you can't do bread with it. I really, really want one of these - a href="http://www.catererswarehouse.com.au/product.asp?pID=2743&cID=270" target="_blank"> a Kitchen Aid Ultra Power Mixer</a>. The whopping price tag is a worry, but the thing will probably last for years, and it comes with a range of awesome gadgets, and you can even get an ice cream maker attachment. Guess I'll have to start saving.

Oh yeah... I've meant to post about one of my culinary creations from last week - coffee jelly. I'm thinking that jelly is fun to play with, and relatively simple once you work out how to handle gelatine. I need to strain the coffee a bit more (some of the espresso grounds sneaked in), and it won't appeal to everyone - surprisingly, non coffee drinkers liked it more than coffee drinkers. Many people just couldn't get their head around coffee in the texture of jelly.

* Honestly, "head full of static electricity" is the best way I can describe the sort of tiredness fibromyalgia causes. It's not like the weariness you get when you've been working hard, or not sleeping. Other people describe it as "fibro fog." Whatever, it's not pleasant, and people don't always believe you when you say something's wrong.

Lately, I've been doing a fair amount of research into Roman garb (specifically late Republic / early Imperial). This is because we're doing a feast with Roman food at the end of October, and I'm aiming to put together a simple guide to Roman garb so everyone can be spiffily dressed.

Roman garb seems to have many advantages for SCAdians, especially those on a budget. For women, it looks like you can get away with just 6m of material for a complete outfit based entirely on rectangles... and cotton can be PERIOD, not just what you use because it's what you can afford. Footwear is mostly sandles, which can be bought cheaply from second-hand shops, and you can get pretty decent jewellery from cheap chain stores. Of course, one of those rectangles of material basically immobilises one arm, which is a drawback.

At last weekend's cooking afternoon, I measured up the attendees and we talked a bit about fabric and construction. I checked my email this afternoon to find one of those young women has bought her material and wants to know how to put it together.

I haven't yet completely worked this out. Ye gods, these young 'uns are keen!

This will spur me to actually sit down and work out the construction, if nothing else. And I have to say, it's really quite humbling to know I'm helping to inspire people.

On Wednesday, I put a post on the Baronial mailing list asking for a male guinea pig to volunteer to have garb made (if he pays for the material). I've had several responses - I'll be looking at new people first. For starters, they need more help with garb, and people who've been around for a while and "always wanted to try Roman stuff" could always have tried it themselves... Or maybe I'll ask for a small commission.

For the last couple of months, Sunday nights have been my favourite TV night. Starting at 6:30 on Channel 10, we've had Merlin, followed by Master Chef. And yes, I'm aware that Merlin is basically soft-core for adolescent girls. And this is a bad thing because...?

But Merlin finished last week, and Master Chef the week before, so last night Channel 10 inflicted Eragon on us. Well, you know my opinion of that piece of... umm... stuff, so there was no way I was sitting through the movie. Besides, I was cooking Chicken Yakitori and reading one of the wonderful Christine Manfield's books.

But it did make me realise... I promised a review of Twilight some time ago, so here goes.

Phoenix girl Bella Swan decides to go and live with her dad, even though she doesn't really feel much for him and isn't keen on the town where she will be living. But when she arrives in the small town of Forks, she is immediately attracted to the indescribably georgeous Edward Cullen, who turns out to be a vampire. He is also attracted to Bella, because she smells nice. He can't be around her because she's so attractive and he's afraid he will hurt her, but this doesn't stop him from sneaking into her bedroom at night. Edward and Bella moon over each other for several hundred pages, before some bad guys turn up and threaten Bella and Edward has to kill them. The End.

A few years ago, I couldn't get hold of my usual lavender bubble bath, so I bought another brand which people raved about, and cost more than the other brand. It was a metallic, sparkly purple syrup, which was hard to get out of the bottle, didn't really smell of lavender and brought me out in a terrible rash.

And that, folks, is a perfect analogy for Twilight.

( Read on, if you dare... )

It's really weird... MasterChef Australia has been over for a week, yet the forums are still running hot discussing the show. The main topic up for discussion is the "conspiracy" behind ensuring the "right" person won the competition.

Basically, all the conspiracies boil down to the fact that the eventual winner, Julie, was a "home cook" who won because she would appeal to the broadest demographic; part of the prize is a cookbook deal, so the theory is Julie will sell the most books and the producers will make a bucketload of money, more than they would had any of the other contestants had won. The fact that all the judges are either world renowned chefs or food critics who would not be putting their reputations on the line doesn't enter into it.*

But I'm not writing today about MasterChef conspiracies. One commenter on the forum posted this little gem:

I believe there was a conspiracy to kill JFK

I believe there was a conspiracy to kill Martin Luther King

I believe FDR knew about the impending attack on Pearl Harbour up to 8 months in advance

I believe that there was prior knowledge of the events on 9/11 and that forces within the administration allowed it to happen......a new Pearl Harbour

If I can believe the big conspiracies then I can certainly believe that a reality TV show was rigged.

Egad.

Some people scare me. Good thing this person didn't mention the moon landing, or I'd be really worried.

And that's why I'm posting, to firmly express my disgust in 2 of those conspiracy theories. I do believe the official explanation behind JFK's assassination was rubbish, and I also believe there was more to Martin Luther King's assassination.** But the Pearl Harbour thing? 9/11? Please, will these people grow another brain, or at least learn to use the one they have?

( The Pearl Harbour conspiracy and why it's rubbish )

( And here's my personal debunking of the 9/11 conspiracy theory. )

So there's my personal debunk of 2 of the great historical conspiracy theories. I'm not expecting to convince any conspiracy theorists they're wrong, because as Sleek Geek Dr Karl Kruszelnicki says, conspiracy theorists willingly exist in a vaccum of perfect ignorance, and won't allow anything to penetrate said vacuum.***



* For what it's worth, I do think that some of the other contestants have more potential than Julie to be truly great chefs. But based on what I watched, Julie is an awesome cook, and so what if she has no pretensions towards Michelin stars, but just wants to open a popular, family-oriented restaurant? I want to eat her food.

** And there was definitely more behind Bobby Kennedy's assassination too. But most popular conspiracy theorists don't know about that one, because he was only a presidential candidate, and Sirhan fired at least some of the shots, so it's harder to come up with a Kewl theory.

*** That's something of a paraphrase, I can't remember his exact quote. He was talking about the Great Moon Landing Conspiracy; his main evidence debunking that theory is the thousands of people all over the world who were responsible for the success of the moon landing, none of whom has come forward to say it was all a hoax.

You may be one of the growing number of people adopting a gluten free life, for whatever reason. Maybe you've been tested and discovered you're coeliac (or perhaps you have 2 of the 4 coeliac genes and you've decided that's too high a risk). Maybe you have Crohn's Disease or Colitis and gluten is one of your triggers (like it is for many of us). Maybe you have a psychosomatic reaction to gluten. Maybe you've just decided gluten free is healthier. Whatever. Here are some very simple rules to follow.

1. Don't whine about how hard it is to avoid gluten, particularly to other gluten-intolerants. WE KNOW. And we know how to deal with it. We've bought the gluten-free ingredients booklet from the Coeliac Society, or we've learned to read labels. We cope. Do the same. And this may astonish you, but people who aren't gluten intolerant don't really care.



2. Learn to cook. There is a surprising number of easy meals that don't involve gluten, and you can easily avoid the gluten in bottled pasta sauces etc by learning to make your own. It's tastier, cheaper and healthier, because you avoid all the extra salt, sugar and preservatives that go into those things. And no, making bolognese sauce from scratch does not take a long time.



3. If you don't like rice, either shut up about it or learn to like it.



4. If you are going to occasionally indulge in gluten food (yes, I do this, very occasionally) be aware of the affect it will have, plan for it, and don't whine about it.



5. For the love of kitty cats, STOP EATING NORMAL BREAD, PIES, SAUSAGE ROLLS, HAMBURGERS, DONUTS AND THOSE GODAWFUL CHICKEN SCHNITZEL THINGS if you have decided to go completely gluten free. If you really are that intolerant, there are no half-measures. You either avoid all gluten or you don't. And no, only eating "2 or 3 slices of bread a day and the odd hamburger" isn't avoiding gluten. Following this rule is particularly important if you are going to constantly violate rule #1, if you want to avoid snarky remarks from other gluten intolerants.


These rules are simple. Which is not the same thing as easy. Never said it was.

I know, I know, it's been over 2 months since I posted...

Sorry about that.

Truth is, I haven't had the 'puter on much in those 2 months. If you have any news you think I should know, drop me a comment and also feel free to berate me for my long silence.

If you want to know where I've been, like literally millions of Australians for the past few months, I was glued to the TV watching MasterChef Australia. This show has been a phenomenon - the final on Sunday night was officially the third highest rating show in Australian broadcast history. Yes, a COOKING SHOW. And a REALITY TV COMPETITION COOKING SHOW at that. TV commentators and network executives have been falling all over themselves wondering why the Hell a cooking competition has been such popular TV; for me, I love food and cooking shows and always watch them (unless it's a Gordon Ramsay show, in which case I want to throw things because I don't like him). The cooks were all amateurs, but generally had great skill - these were ordinary people, doing something that just about everyone does each day - cook. And most people like to try to make their food enjoyable. The three judges were knowledgable, and good judges - they praised good efforts, but when food was rubbish, they said so, and gave valid reasons as to why.

So after MasterChef (and the nightly discussion with my mother and/or brother, because they both liked it too), I would look through my growing collection of food books, dreaming up new things to cook. And yes, I have cooked a lot in the past few months. Here's a tip, though - monster cooking sessions beginning around 8:30 at night aren't recommended. Especially when you are incapable of leaving the washing up. Especially when you have to work next day. And especially when you have fibromyalgia and need sleep.

But now, if you;ll excuse me, I've just found a Japanese grocer in Sydney who has an online mail order service. And I'm still looking for somewhere that has Australian bushfoods for sale online.

Just ordered more stuff from Amazon. And the last order hasn't even shipped yet. Oh well. The latest order was relatively small for me, books about the spice trade and spices in medieval cooking (and one on Roman clothing).

I had to sneer at one of the reviewers for The Spice Route, who insisted that the author obviously knows little about spices as he called cubeb a pepper. Even though it's in the Piper genus, it's not a pepper, apparently.

And here was me, thinking that "pepper" was the general term applied to spices derived from plants of the Piper genus. And all my spice books that class cubeb as pepper are clearly wrong as well. It must be nice to know you're right when the rest of the world is wrong.

On Sunday night I did a Tudor chicken recipe, Chicken in a Lemon Sauce. It was really tasty, though I made it with drumsticks. This was a bit of a mistake; you braise the chicken, which makes the skin fall off during cooking, so it looked somewhat manky on the plate. If I make it for myself again, I will probably use chicken thigh fillets, because they braise beautifully and don't go manky. However, for SCA feasts, I imagine drumsticks will be fine, as in the dim lighting a manky appearance won't be as much of a turn off.

Tonight I made my good old Garlic Soup for dinner (yum yum 25 cloves of garlic I will still smell it a week from now), which meant I had 3 egg whites hanging around. My freezer already has quite a few frozen egg whites, so I decided to have another shot at making some coffee meringues (second time I've ever tried anything meringue). The first time I used too wide a bowl, so I couldn't beat the egg whites properly. This time I used a much narrower bowl and the meringues turned out much better - they didn't run everywhere. And they taste really good, too. They're still a bit too crisp for my liking; I just found a cooking tip to lower the cooking temperature when you put them in the oven, which crisps the outside while leaving the inside still slightly gooey.

( Recipe for Chicken with Orange or Lemon Sauce )

But right now, I'm hunting for recipes for tea-smoked duck breast. And even though it's quite late, I think I'll have another coffee meringue.

Dear Amazon,

I have just posted an order for over $AU200.

I do not need to "treat myself to a little something," thankyou.

But right now, Tilly is demanding Love. She has trapped a hand and is headbutting me. And kneading ferociously.

This post was prompted by two things.

First, the news that two girls have been expelled from an exclusive school for cyber-bullying. This can't erase the damage their vicious attacks have caused, but good on the school for acting promptly. I certainly hope this follows those two preshus girls wherever they go.

Second, this post from the from the ever awesome naamah_darling, about the horrific damage verbal bullying can cause, and I back naamah up 110% when she says that telling a victim to turn the other cheek is probably the worst thing you can do.

For whatever reason it occurs, bullying is wrong. Maybe you're jealous that some girl has sprouted breasts before you have. Maybe you feel threatened by someone's intellect or sporting prowess. Maybe your parents are divorcing, or your dog just died, and you need to lash out. Maybe it's hormones. Maybe you're being bullied yourself. Whatever. Don't care. The minute you strike someone who's done nothing to you, whether physically or verbally, with the express intent to harm that person, you have become a stain on society. And if you're a victim of someone else's bullying, more shame on you.

I was a victim of bullying throughout most of my school life, to the point where I still have intimacy issues and allowing people to get close. To say nothing of still trying to sort out my self-image and ideas of my own attractiveness. I have fond daydreams of dipping parts of my tormentors into hot oil, and I've often shocked people by saying there's about 5 people of my school year (out of about 120) that I wouldn't waterboard given the opportunity. No, I'm not kidding when I say that. Nearly 20 years later, the wounds inflicted are still very, very raw.

Like Martin Luther King, I have a dream, born of the frustration and despair that comes from being singled out as "different" and treated badly. But unlike King, my dream is not uplifting and inspiring. I dream of a huge complex enclosed by barbed wire, out in the middle of the Simpson Desert, where it's always unbearably hot during the day and very cold at night. All the buildings are made of corrugated iron, there's no air conditioning, and very basic amenities. And anyone, any age, any gender, is sent to this place when they bully someone else, for whatever reason and for whatever cause. Whether it be schoolyard bullies. Whether it be abusive spouses or parents. Whether it be nasty bosses. Whether it be men who think they can touch up women whenever they please. They can get let out once they have learned not to bully anyone, ever. Or until they are destroyed by someone else's bullying.

At least bullying is becoming more of an issue these days. School boards are implementing anti-bullying programmes, if only to be seen to be doing something, and it's becoming a media issue. But still, when 11 year olds are driven to suicide and parents feel it necessary to take schools to court for failing to stop the problem, it's clear we have a very, very long way to go.

( Some thoughts from a survivor about how to cope. WARNING, some may find these measures extreme. )