Mentally deficient.

Two finals for touch footy this week. The semi on Wednesday night was interesting. The team we were playing were a bunch of the Gold Coasts next generation, young, dumb and fit, wheras we had a couple of current champions, quite a lot of old canny stagers and a few young uns'.

We started perfectly running in three easy touchdowns with almost Swiss precision. But in the second half they came at us and our fitness and application began to fade. Right to the point where it was equal at full time, but our champions came through for us in golden point and we went through to face our repeated and mortal enemies, the kiwis. After all, this is the coast, it's remarkable it's not two kiwi sides in the final.

We seem to play these guys every year in the final and it's a always a battle. They had touched us up badly last game. This time we had a game plan for defense and for once we executed it perfectly. Guys who'd been isolated on the line were suddenly rock solid keystones. To beat this team, which has about 5 international players in it, we needed to play at our best and dropping three balls over the line is not really affordable, even in the wet. Final margin? Funnily enough, it was three points. The better team won, but it was good to see that tactically, we had a chance, that we got ourselves into the game.

Losing the game is not what has been bothering me today, even though I hate losing anything. The last two seasons I've been getting increasingly anxious about playing. I left playing the top grade in Brisbane in a crap way and I've never seemed to get that touch of belief back. I'm starting games not willing the long balls to my wing or hoping I can make that big touch in defense that lifts the game. I'm fine when I'm on the field doing my job, but not on the sideline. I've got a little monster sitting on my shoulder eating up that extra ten percent that I used to have. Part of it is my weight and I'm working and will be working harder on removing that as an excuse.

I think too that training with Nath and AJ has really brought it home. I feel like I have the same attitude as them when we train, but their absolute belief that they will be able to change the game is just so different to what I feel when I rock up to play

The funny thing is, you talk to me about any other part of my life, the things that define me and I have absolute faith that I am not just good at them, but absolutely fucking great. Just ask me. Lantanaland, looking after The Wife, cooking, my job and even writing this blog, I just feel that while I might not get everything right I very rarely go to sleep feeling like I have failed, but in the last two years there would only be one or two games that that thought wasn't in the back of my head.

The minds a funny thing.


Lantanaland from the iPhone

By Jove and by Jingo

"By Jove and by Jingo". I have been heard to pontificate, as I clean my monocle and fill my pipe, "I will not have one of those modern contraptions in my house. The wife will just have to boil her milk the way my grandaddy did it and women’s lib be damned."

I refer to a contraption that for ten years I have fought tooth and nail to deny precious bench space to in my kitchen.
The microwave.

I just don't see the need for it. As far as cooking kit goes there is a long, long, long list of stuff I would give the bench space to, but my usually reliable ability to swim against the tide has been worn down by a few factors. The biggest one is we seem to be having a few babies amongst the visitors to Lantanaland, fair enough, we all want to procreate, but the assumption of the traveling baby chef is that the kitchen they will be visiting will have a microwave. That's why the other weekend you would have found me heating some pumpkin mash on a double boiler as well as cooking dinner.

The other spear through my quite reasonable aversion is The Wife. She is convinced that if she could heat her milk for breakfast it would save her a precious ten minutes that could be much better spent daydreaming in the shower or lingering in bed instead of getting to work.

I've never liked the way it cooks food. Mum used to reheat my dinner after I came home from footy and it just tasted.... zapped. I'm sure I'll cave and use it to melt butter or chocolate but if you visit Mother Focaccia and you see a recipe for Lamb Roast in Microwave, get havock and Dr Yobbo to put a swat team together and take me out to a deserted farmhouse with nothing but butter, bacon, fresh eggs, veg, herbs, a fire and a fryypan, tie me to a chair and let Finthart do some severe reeducation.

All round it's been a bad week for my moral indignation. I'd been viewing the whole Twilight phenomenon with mild hypocritical disdain and as I buy all the books, movies and music for Lantanaland I had managed to steer the wife gently away from the books, despite the chorus of women on facebook channeling their inner fifteen year old.

The first breach was a couple of mates coming for a weeks visit of good food and lots of laughs. As a thank you I got a lovely bottle of scotch and The Wife got Twilight. To my dismay she then did an uncanny impression of me with a new Terry Pratchett, ignored me completely and read it cover to cover.

So while shopping in bigW, being the lovestruck fool I am, I saw the second one on special and got that for her. I couldn't get any worse could it. I might as well sell Lantanaland and move to a townhouse in the city. All my ideals are shot. But no. Going to training on the weekend, The Wife, unused to weekend mornings, squinted in the bright sun. I couldn't resist a shot across the bows.
"not turning into a VAMPire are you?"
"you know" she replied, with the look of a fisherman casting into his secret spot where the odds of a bite are 100%, " in Twilight, vampires aren't scared of the daylight, instead they sparkle!"

"They F^#*€NG what?!?"

I wonder if microwaves burn books.

Lantanaland from the iPhone
Grumble bloody grumble twilight grumble.

Slow news day

Been a bit slow here lately, mainly cause I've been living at mother foccacia a fair bit. Mmmmm hungry. Had some mates over last night for dinner and young charlotte gave my hard core choc mousse the big thumbs up. She went from sleepy to hyper in about 10 sec. What a cool kid. I think I'll be doing a video on that as well, it's such an easy recipe for such a great payoff.

In other Lantanaland news, doing tax is good! If the promised returns flow to the land of lantana there might be a rethink on the sheep and the jersey cow might be back on the agenda. Which means I will be looking at the cheese course again. It's heaps cheaper if you get a crew together and you get to pick your cheeses. If anyone is keen can you leave a comment or ping me on twitter? Hughesy? JB?



Lantanaland from the iPhone