The Happiest Refugee

What a lovely little book this is. It's hardly new, I know, but I've just read it after borrowing it from a friend.

I normally wouldn't be interested in a stand-up comedian's book but thought The Husband might quite like it. I decided to have a look at the first few pages - and that was it. I was hooked.

It's the story of Anh Do and his family's escape from Vietnam when the comedian was just two and the lives they made for themselves in Australia. Simply, it's a 'boat people' story told from the perspective of a 'boat-person'.

The horror of their journey is evident and I felt like I was on that rickety boat with them, breathing the putrid air inside the cabin. Their boat was attacked by pirates - twice - yet Do's father still managed to bring 39 refugees to Australia, losing one life along the way.

It's something of a tragi-comedy, and something I think every young Australian should read so they don't become anaesthetised to what the term boat-people actually represents.

The beauty of this book is that it's never depressing, even when the subject matter is incredibly sad. I may not be a fan of Anh Do's comedy routines but I think he's a gifted storyteller. And who doesn't like a happy ending?

The Paris Wife

Have just finished reading The Paris Wife by Paula McLain, and found it intriguingly enjoyable after a bumpy start.

It's one of those 'faction' books - books based on a real event, in this case the marriage of Ernest Hemingway and his first wife Hadley Richardson, and then fleshed out to create a story.

The book begins with the two characters meeting in the early 1920s, falling in love and then moving to Paris. Hemingway isn't yet published and the story weaves around his writing, their relationship and people they mix with, such as F. Scott Fitzgerald and his wife Zelda.

The reason it took me a little longer than expected to warm to the book was because I found the Hadley Richardson of the book, frankly, quite wet. Whether she really was or not, I have no idea, obviously, but her prime reason for existing seemed to be to bolster Hemingway. But I went with it and ended up quite admiring her.

It's the sort of book to read tucked up in bed with a cup of tea and an iPhone, purely to reference Wikipedia when a bit of background is required.

Have a lovely weekend. x

Clean break

The house had gotten a little out of control and so I'd put aside today for a thorough clean. Turned out to be a perfect day as the rain was torrential, thunder and lighting was pummelling the skies and Sydney traffic had come to a standstill.

The Husband and Child stayed home today prompted by radio announcements recommending anyone who could should work from home today - the roads really were that bad. Not wanting to be deterred from my task, I popped back into bed (it was still early) and took this book with me. It's a trick I sometimes use on myself.

Looking at lovely clean, uncluttered rooms makes me want some too.

Coffee finished, I hit the shower and started on our bedroom, kicking The Husband out.

"Do you know it's International Women's Day today, Mum?" asked The Child. I did.

Perhaps not the best day to don an apron, in retrospect.

Edited to add: this is a lovely book with nice words, apart from one major boo-boo. One chapter opening lists the great flea markets of the world, and includes Sydney's Paddy's Market. Which is a bit 'What the?' Paddy's Market isn't a flea or vintage market. It's a fruit and veg market with a side of cheap and nasty stuff, including badly made designer knock offs. Gave me a good laugh, though. Believe me, if one of the world's great flea markets was a couple of kilometres from my house, I'd be there all the time. I haven't been to Paddy's in years...

Stitched up

Never again should I have trouble trying a new stitch for a crochet rug, thanks to the book I bought today. See the blue, white and yellow cushion in the pic in the background? I've been wanting to make that cushion for a while but it was just a prop as the pattern in that book was for the ripple blanket (which I did make and was easy to follow).

Thanks to my new book, though, I now know how to do it.

And lots of other repetitions too.

250 in fact - and all in lovely UK/Australian terminology. And all in both words and diagrams. I almost punched the air in the bookshop but pulled myself together just in time. The colour combinations are fairly attrocious but I'll forgive this otherwise seemingly perfect book. Basic Crochet Stitches, $30, from Kinokuniya. Can be found much cheaper online, if you're that way inclined, but I personally had to have it on the spot.

I should never have trouble crocheting a rug again. But, as James Bond once said, never say never. Or was it Justin Bieber? That doesn't bode well...

Pure

Did you know there was a cemetery in the heart of Paris - it was the oldest and largest - so overcrowded that there wasn't enough earth left to allow bodies to decompose properly? I didn't, until I picked up Pure by Andrew Miller.

The cemetery, Saints Innocents or Les Innocents as it's called in the book, is no longer there: in its place is a fountain Fontaine des Innocents on the Rue St Denis in the Les Halles district. The bones are now in Paris's Catacombs.

From the Middle Ages until the late 18th century, the ground and its charnel houses had swallowed up almost two million people, many buried in mass graves, until it could take no more. The cemetery and surrounding area were so unsanitary, even by mid-1700s standards, and the already intolerable situation made signicantly worse by a prolonged period of heavy rain, that Louis XVI ordered it destroyed. Every body and every bone was to be dug up and moved. The cemetery and church was to be no more.

Pure is a fictionalised version of this event told from the viewpoint of the young engineer, with no more experience than having built a small bridge in Normandy, who was given the task.

I haven't finished it yet, but so far it's the best type of book: a literary page turner. Andrew Miller is beautiful writer, and he's just won a major prize in the UK for the book. If I'm still enthralled by the end, I'll be straight on to the library to reserve everything he's ever written.

The Husband, who read it first, also loved it and he'd normally resist anything that could even be vaguely labelled as historical fiction with a barge pole. But he was desperate for a book and I was in the middle of something else. Now he keeps asking me what Jean-Baptiste is up to every time he sees my nose in the book.

Last night we looked up the exact location of Saints Innocents, now the Place Joachim-du-Bellay, on Google Maps and found the site was literally around the corner from the apartment we stayed in when in Paris the year before last. If only we'd known then, but Paris has so many secrets and stories.

Not far from the Pompidou Centre, which I never got around to either. Clearly, I need to go back.

There Should Be More Dancing

I'd been trying to get my hands on Rosalie Ham's first novel, The Dressmaker, for some time and finally picked it up secondhand bookshop just before Christmas. A quote on the back by a Sydney Morning Herald reviewer states: "...a feral version of SeaChange", which I think sums it up perfectly. Crazy, tender, sad and surprising, this isn't a sweet story about making clothes but rather about one woman's return to the country town of her past.

The Dressmaker led me to Ham's latest novel There Should Be More Dancing, full of skillfully written laugh-out loud lines that entwine with characterisations full of depth and beauty that unfold and grow until the very last page. I was riveted.

Here's the beginning of the book as extracted by the Herald Sun, if you'd like a taste.

It'd never occurred to me that cross stitch could be used as a weapon...

Looking up

The Child and I decided to take a morning to check out the Laneway Art exhibition. The blow-up PVC sculpture, Donut, above, is supposedly referencing "European and Indigenous depictions of time travel and healing" as well as the the "circular branches of Aboriginal healing trees" and "contemporary pop culture: a 'pie in the sky', something unattainable yet delicious". Luckily I'd read up beforehad as I was able to pass on this information rather than tell The Child it was something that floated over from the New Year's Eve fireworks and got stuck between the buildings.

What I found most interesting was the exhibition took us to five laneways in the city that I didn't even know existed (six artworks, one lane I knew). Rather than rushing by, we walked in and looked around and discovered pockets of Sydney that have remained hidden from me all my life. I now know of somewhere to get takeaway sushi midweek and then sit in the sun away from the crowds as well as the bowels of Westfield.

The experience reminded me of a story I wrote years ago when I was a staff writer for the now-defunct SHE magazine. It was all about simple pleasures and solutions. One that's stuck with me is to take the time to look up sometimes instead of just ahead. Whenever I do this I always notice something new (to me).

And you don't have to live in a big city for this to apply. You may be walking under a lovely bird's nest in a tree every day but never noticed. Just make sure you look back down before you cross a road...

On another note, the experiments from Favourite Cakes, the book I blogged about last week, continue. So far, we've made Honey Syrup Cake, Vanilla Angel Food Cake with Fresh Berry Icing, Chocolate Roulade with Berry Cream and Apricot Blondies, above. All good. All easy. All chosen and approved of by The Child.

Have a lovely weekend.

Favourite Cakes

As I have a lot of cookbooks, I don't generally look at books specialising in just one aspect of cooking, such as sweets, as I figure I've already got hundreds of cake recipes I've forgotten about in the back of books I already own. But our local bookshop was having a sale and I remember being given a small book by this author, Julie Le Clerc, some years back that I rather liked.

Flicked through Favourite Cakes and knew these recipes were easy and tempting enough for The Child to want to make herself. So far, we've made (okay, she chose it and I actually baked it) the Honey Syrup Cake and have the Vanilla Angel Food Cake with Berry Icing earmarked for today.

The Honey Syrup Cake was a huge hit - tasted like a fresh, moist Honey Jumble biscuit minus the icing - and The Child, who usually values chocolate cake much highly above all others, declared it one of her all-time favourites.

What's nice about this book is that most of the ingredients are simply listed in cups, tablespoons and teaspoons, which I find nostaligically refreshing in this age of celebrity chefdom and molecular gastronomy.

Pass me an apron and call me grandma.

Principles of Home

I've been reading this book like a novel, I find it so interesting. The hardback was released last year but this abridged version is new, and more than enough for me. I was drawn to this book because I admire Kevin McCloud's use of language when it comes to design and homes.

I came to it off the back of a freelance job where I was asked to write about 20 stories for a website, each on a different decorating style, ie, beach house, modern country, etc. So I spoke to many people and I read up. A lot. Towards the end of the job I was almost banging my head on the desk at how much bad writing is out there when it comes to decorating and how much pretension when it comes to design.

This book is the equivalent of a palette-cleansing sorbet.

Split into four chapters - energy, buildings, things, sharing - it breaks down difficult subjects, particularly in energy, and makes them easily digestible and palatable. And interesting!

I don't think I'd forgive any other book for a chapter called 'things', but it works. It's all about the things we put in our homes and two sections deal with 'Things at home worth investing in' (taps and light switches) and 'Things at home not worth investing in' (kitchen cupboards and doors).

He values good design but not in a must-have-this-chair type of way but in the way it can make life more pleasurable:

"Finding comfort - the joy of a comfortable chair or door handle - is to be prized above fashion, style, image - or cool design, which is just another term for fashion, style and image. Comfort is the most civilizing aspect of design or architecture. Seek it out."

Or, a little more idiosyncrastically:

"Cleaning the aluminium case of my own little Apple is no chore but an act of caring, like stroking a Furby. I won't admit to it being fetishistic but it's a little like wax polishing a fine old piece of French polished furniture. OK, that's enough, I'm sure, for all you PC owners trying to remove the crumbs from your keyboard. I will just add that using a Mac is a tactile pleasure and an intellectual one too. With a PC, not only does all that plastic get scratched, worn and dirty, but even trying to operate the software feels a bit dirty in comparison. Yuk."

Fan letter over.

Happy animals

Came across a book of 30 postcards in Kinokuniya (easily the best bricks-and-mortar bookshop in Sydney, in my opinion) by Japanese illustrator Junzo Terada.

Each postcard is different and all share a mid-century sensibility, which reminds me of another favourite illustrator, Charley Harper.

For $12.50, it seemed criminal to leave them behind.

The collection is called Happy Animal Time, and is published by Chronicle Books.

If you're reading this...
Sarah, thank you for taking the time to offer your expertise regarding Bella. We were both very touched.
We investigated the subcutaneous fluid treatment with our other cat (the vet did it a couple of times) and we would have continued it ourselves should she have lived. We're not going to go down that route with Bella, purely because of her age. She's now 15 going on 16 and don't think it fair to keep on asking her to fight it.

Everyday Asian

meatballs with tamarind glaze

Happily handed over $35 at the bookshop for Bill Granger's new cookbook Bill's Everyday Asian.

Spa-style poached chicken with sesame bean salad

While not a fan of his TV shows, I do love his food.

Simple egg noodle salad with peanut dressing

Holiday, one of his previous books, is a favourite, and where the Never Fail Chocolate Cake recipe comes from that I make all the time. We still make quite a few dishes from even-earlier books regularly. Never had a bad meal at bills in Surry Hills either.

Chinese custard tarts

I can see this new book being well-used throughout spring and summer as the recipes are easy weekday fare and so right for our climate.

The styling and photography is crisp and pretty.

It retails for $50 but I picked it up at Dymocks yesterday for $35.

Red Velvet cupcakes

Spurred on by descriptions of long French lunches and dinners from the book I've been reading, I had a bit of a cooking frenzy yesterday afternoon. One of the things I made was the much-heard-about-but-never-tried red velvet cupcake.

After tasting, The Child and The Husband declared me baking genius. I, however, don't really get what the fuss is about, but cupcakes don't really get me excited in general. Here's the very easy recipe, should you be interested.

I feel a burst of pastry making upon me and am thinking lemon tarts, should we ever get through the cupcakes.

NB: The photo taken from Caffe Positano in the last post was snapped by The Child, who also happened to be the only one of us who managed to take a decent photo of the Eiffel Tower.

I've now finished reading A Family in Paris and mostly very much enjoyed it. If the publisher had labelled and marketed it as a memoir, the fact that the Paris stay was quite some time ago wouldn't have been a problem as someone's experiences aren't necessarily diminished by time. The problem was the expectation that the story was a recent one and then you quickly realise the young children you're reading about would actually be adults now, which is confirmed at the end of book.

I think the publishing company has done the author a bit of a disservice in this respect.

Armchair travelling

This time last year was our first trip to Europe as a family and, so, each day I've been telling the others exactly where we were one year ago. (Today it's Positano.) This has The Child slapping her forehead declaring she's jealous of her one-year-younger self.

As that sort of trip is far from our normal holiday fare, I'm dabbling in a bit of armchair travel instead this year, and picked up these two new books from the library yesterday. I actually considered buying both of them last week but am glad I didn't. I haven't delved into the Stephen Clarke one yet, but I'm pretty sure it's one I'll enjoy at the time but not feel the need to hang onto.

While A Family in Paris is entertaining because I like the sensation of someone conjuring the city up for me again, it's just that I'd rather not have the author along for company (more the problems an ex-pat faces than joys of the city, for my tastes). That's travel for you, though, can't always choose who you sit next to on a journey.

I also get the feeling that the two-year Paris stay was quite a while ago as while some of the photos show receipts and tickets where the currency is shown in French Francs rather than Euros. I'm pretty sure I spotted one with a 1999 date on it as well. There's also been at least one 'NB' after a piece of copy, where the author explains that smoking is now banned in cafes.

Smacks a bit of the publishing company, rather than the author, jumping on the Australians-abroad bandwagon.

All that doesn't detract from the feeling of being in Paris again, but it certainly would if I'd paid $50 for the pleasure. So I'll just enjoy the free ride.

In the meantime, I'll remember the view from the restaurant we ate at last-year's tonight with people whose company I always treasure, including our then-14-year-old nephew.

My beautiful lavanderia

This book caught my eye as I was leaving the library late last week so, on a whim, I walked back to the desk and borrowed it. I'm so glad I did.

Italian Joy written and photographed by Carla Coulson was a delight to read from beginning to end. It's hardly new, being published in 2005. It's the classic story about a single woman wanting to change the direction of her life and then doing exactly that. What I like about this book, more than some others which have followed it, is that she did it with passion and perseverance rather than those with large bank accounts who paid people to make it happen for them. That's all very nice too, but not really much of a story.

My favourite chapter in the book is the one entitled The Laundrette, or Lavanderia in Italian (such a beautiful word for washing). It captures the way her life has slowed down since she left Sydney for Florence and she now cleans her own apartment and does her own washing - and enjoys having the time to do so.

I love this book because of the way Carla Coulson captures the domestic beauty of the Italian lifestyle in her photographs and words. The way her dreams have unfolded in the same gentle way as her now sun-kissed sheets.

That's something money can't buy.

Fully booked

A couple of new books have come into the house. The first, Jane Brocket's The Gentle Art of Knitting because, as much as I love crochet it does have its limitations, and this book looks pretty and simple enough. I liked her quilting book, which, admittedly, I haven't actually made anything from yet. So I should say I like the look of her quilting book. Also, she's always making socks on her blog, which I thought would be a good first project.

I was soothed by Jane's introduction to the sock pattern as she said it was easy and would teach "you all you need to know about socks but were afraid to ask". Unfortunately, I was instantly lost when I read the pattern as it involved three needles without any tips on which needles you were supposed to be working with at what time. I have no doubt the fault lies with me rather than Jane.

Maybe I'll stick to hotties.

The next book is on loan from the library for three weeks. Matthew Evans' new cookbook Winter on the Farm has just hit the shops, but the library loan will give me a chance to experiment with it and see if I like it enough to buy it.

As you can see, I've marked several pages so the signs are good. However, so is the weather in Sydney so not sure I want to be drawn into the snow and frost of a Tasmanian winter, no matter how beautifully styled and photographed it is. As I feel the sun on my shoulders and smell jasmine in the air for the first time in months, it's hard to engage with images of log fires and snowmen.

The Gentle Art of Knitting I bought from the Book Depository for $18 a couple of weeks ago, but I can see the prices are steadily rising since the company has been taken over by Amazon and it's now $27. Of course, it's available at local bookshops for $40. Winter on the Farm is $50 locally or $23 online, if you're prepared for a 60-day pre-order wait.

*If you're reading this...
Trace, I do buy a bit of silver cutlery from markets but not a lot. Prefer lovely low-maintenance stainless steel. The cup I used in yesterday's post was one of those family things given to me as a baby.

* Thought I'd answer any non-urgent questions in posts to save anyone having to check back in the comments box or clog up your email boxes. If a personal response is required, I am, of course, only to happy to clog away. You're also very welcome to do the same to me.

Branching out

Despite being only a few hexagons away from finishing a Japanese cotton throw rug, I can't keep away from fiddling about with spare balls of wool. There's something lovely about working with the stretchy, forgiving woolly stuff that cotton just can't compete with on a cold winter's night.

There's something just as lovely about short, little projects that I can pretty much knock off during an episode of Masterchef.

The Japanese throw is my third large blanket in a row and as much as I love the finished products I'm craving the crafting equivalent of a few Donna Hay fast-and-simple style projects right now rather than a three-week French cassoulet.

So I'm experimenting with the book 300 Classic Blocks for Crochet Projects, where the instructions are given in diagram and written-word forms. Not a Japanese syllable in sight.

Le chat

The Child was sitting on the floor of her room practising her flute while inexplicably wearing a grass skirt (I do not ask). Suddenly, she heard and felt some scratching. The Cat was trying to make a nest in her skirt.

I don't know who's odder, the Child or the Cat but they both make me laugh, and I was reminded of an old book I had somewhere. Scratching around myself, I found French for Cats: All the French your Cat will ever Need, written by Henry Beard, a co-founder of National Lampoon magazine.

Why a cat speaking French is even more amusing than a cat speaking cat is I don't know. It just is. Must be the perceived shared attitude.

If only I could get Le Chat to wear a beret.

June reading

Have just finished reading The Novel in the Viola, the new book from Mr Rosenblum's List author Natasha Solomons. I'd recommend it as a bed book, winter's equivalent of a beach read; something to curl up and get lost in but whose plot I'll have completely forgotten in a month's time. It was like a great fling: fun while it lasted. (I think my brain is still affected by the WW2-era language. Who says fling?)

Next on my list is Linda Grant's The Thoughtful Dresser, something I've wanted to read for ages. I can't describe the premise any better than the blurb on the back: "...the thinking woman's guide to our relationship with what we wear..." This non-fiction subject has become its own mini genre over the last few years, and, when done well, it's engrossing, insightful, playful and poignant. When its not done well, it's more a superficial romp through someone's wardrobe, which doesn't interest me. Justine Picardie's 2006 My Mother's Wedding Dress was the first such book I picked up and I've been hooked ever since. I have high hopes for The Thoughtful Dresser as Grant is a Man Booker-prize shortlisted author.

Pia Jane Bijkerk's My Heart Wanders arrived in the post a week ago and I haven't got further than flicking through it yet. Looks pretty. Very pretty. Regardless of how the words will sound to my ears, it's a book I could enjoy for its looks alone.

If I could just crawl back into bed right now with a mug of hot chocolate...

Modern vintage

Arrived home earlier this morning after taking the Child to the airport for her first unaccompanied minor flight to New Zealand to visit cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents to find a familiar-looking package on the doormat. Another gem had landed from the Book Depository.

I've been semi-collecting the decorating titles published by Ryland, Peters & Small for some years now as there's a similar aesthetic running through them that appeals to me. The latest, Modern Vintage Style by Emily Chalmers of Caravan fame, has some shots/houses I haven't seen before, such as this knitted iMac cover.

Then there are bursts of general prettiness I love, such as the wattle against this blue/grey wall. The flowers are actually fake mimosa, according to the book, but I'm choosing to ignore that.

Just the thing to take my mind off the Child flying by herself across the Pacific. For a minute.

Hottie topic

The rain gently, but consistently, falling this morning is like music. Until last weekend, our garden had got into a bit of state but after one of those big efforts where you fall exhausted but satisfied onto the couch on Sunday evening we now smile when we walk outside rather than cringe. I think we were infected by some Autumn nesting bug when the clocks turned back on Saturday night.

The cool air starts to gather round the doors in the late afternoon and last night we kept it at bay by roasting chicken for dinner followed by brownies I'd backed during the day. I slunk off to the bedroom pretty quickly after that for a quiet read of a good book accompanied by a hottie and cup of herbal tea. It's something I'm trying to turn into a midweek ritual as it's so relaxing and makes me feel like I'm holiday.

The Cat rather likes it too. Unsurprisingly.