Tumbledown Dora, or Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway

Posted on February 15, 2013 by Hannah

I’ve always found it difficult to stand up tall and say “Hey! Hey world! I’m happy!” because to do so feels like daring the universe to immediately send me crashing to the ground.

I say this for two reasons.

1. You now know that publishing these proclamations of exhilaration was a triumph for me. For once, I felt strong enough to say that At This Moment I Am Happy, not “back then, things were good” or “I hope things will be great later”. I knew I was daring the universe to send me spiraling and crashing, but I did it anyway.

2. The universe did indeed send me spiraling and crashing, just as I’ve always feared. The surprise factor, though, was that the crashing was literal.

On Valentine’s Day morning, I had just poured boiling water over the coffee grounds in my French Press when I decided to run upstairs to get a band-aid for my foot. (Hah!)

On the way back down, band-aid in hand, my thick socks slipped on the seventh wooden step and thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump. With smooth slippery clothes on every part of my body and no handrail to grab to slow my descent, I recall flashes of dread and fear as my back, head, and elbow hit hard edges and I slid and crashed down onto the hallway tiles at the bottom of the stairs.

I lay still, aching, willing myself to be fine. I tried to move and then stopped. No. Not yet. Not yet. Everything felt paused.

The timer in the kitchen beeped, signaling the end of the coffee brewing time. I remember thinking: Need to push the French Press down. Need to stop the coffee brewing.

The next thing I remember is opening my eyes on the floor of the kitchen with everything spinning, a cacophony of nonsensical thoughts swirling in my mind, all underpinned by a sense of urgency. Science class in high school. Puppy. Trim the agapanthus. Mum and Dad. Need to be somewhere. Have to do something. Where am I? Room is different. Snow? Snow. Why is there snow? Why am I in Canada? This doesn’t look right. I have to be somewhere. I’m scared. I’m scared. This isn’t right.

I pulled myself into a standing position, and with a jolt knew again that I lived in Toronto and was due at my internship in an hour. Somehow, I walked to the couch in the living room and crawled amongst the cushions, listening to the steady tune ringing in my ears. Bells. Slowly, they faded. Hurting. Have to call Mum and Dad. Have to tell them I fell. That I’m okay. Get to the computer. I’m slared. No. Snared? No. Word. Scared.

As I tottered towards the laptop on the dining table, I caught a glimpse of the kitchen behind it and noticed that the freezer door was wide open, and postcards and fridge magnets were scattered all over the floor.

That’s not right, I thought to myself. What happened over there? Let’s look. Close the door. Close the frozen. Get the magnets – oops no! Don’t get the magnets! No bendybendy right now. Hurting.

Postcards and magnets can stay on the floor. Shinyshiny floor.

After all, they look so pretty there.

Let this be a lesson to you all: never run down shiny wooden stairs in thick socks after telling the universe that you are exceedingly happy with the way each day of your life is progressing. If you do, you might end up with a host of iridescent bruises, a back that looks like a three-clawed creature swiped at it, and a concussion serious enough that your physiotherapist housemate stares at you in disbelief when she finds out you went to work anyway (in my defense, I didn’t want to be alone and later got a taxi home as soon as I started shaking), and then orders you to Total Bedrest for the next few days.

However, never stop shouting from the rooftops that you are happy. Because you deserve to be, and the world deserves to know.

Imaginary heel click,
Hannah

Counting Down to My Great Big Gallivant, with Koko Black and Polly Pockets

Posted on July 28, 2012 by Hannah

So many emotions.

So very many emotions.

So many goodbyes and so many squeezy-tight hugs, but also so much love and support and excitement and texts and hand-written messages that make me feel all squiggly inside. So many wonderful friends who remind me that the thrill of adventure awaits just beyond the right-now tasks and paperwork and anxiety and packing and cleaning and 3am freak-outs about the fact that I still need to buy pyjamas and swimmers and luggage to put the pyjamas and swimmers in and –

Breathe. Breathe.

Breathe and be like this Pied Cormorant on Lake Burley Griffin, breathe to pause and soak in the sunshine as the water twinkles from green to blue around me.

Breathe and simply enjoy a handful of chocolate, rather than scurrying around to take photos, write tasting notes, pen a review. Breathe and focus on the sweetness, crisp almonds, and tiny currants of Koko Black’s Dark Chocolate Mendiants.

Breathe instead of crying when my gospel choir wishes me farewell, breathe and be thankful for the kindred spirits I’ve met at Strange Weather, breathe for the glorious memories of Moruya, of my solo, of hushed giggling, of standing in the carpark after rehearsal talkingtalking despite the fact that it’s 10:30pm and freezingblack under the stars.

Breathe because even though cleaning out my apartment and childhood bedroom simultaneously has at times threatened to swallow me whole, there’s always time to play with Polly Pockets.

Particularly when crystals and polar bears are involved. (Or Japanese restaurants, puppies, French restaurants, or jet skis… but I digress.)

Breathe and enjoy trying to eat through the pantry and fridge, particularly if this involves nightly feasts of sweet protein pudding (vanilla Sunwarrior protein powder, coconut flour, cacao nibs, and almond milk), the incredibly amazing and deliciously addictive raw cashews and cacao nibs with coconut nectar that my Lisa brought me from Bali, enormous bowls of roasted Brussels sprouts (ten minutes in the AirFryer with thyme-infused olive oil, black salt, and panch phora), and sometimes simply a jar of almond butter, a bottle of maple syrup, a bowl, and a spoon.

Breathe because that part of cleaning up is fun. That and the Polly Pockets.

Breathe and remember that every moment, both here in the cozy stream of loved ones and familiar safety and out there in the great wide sparkling beyond, is worth savouring.

Even the moments wherein I freeze, panicked, because I still haven’t bought any pyjamas.

Icicle Frosts, Chestnuts, and When Daikon Attacks

Posted on July 10, 2012 by Hannah

This past week in Canberra has been freezing.

No, literally, it’s been freezing. The fact that we’re expected to tumble out of our snuggly bed-cocoons on a -6 degree morning has seemed like a cruel trick of the gods. After losing all feeling in my hands one morning while scraping the near-impenetrable frost from my car windows with an American supermarket loyalty card, I have stubbornly decided that, for the rest of winter, I shall no longer participate in such dangerous manual labour. Instead, I shall enjoy fifteen minutes of reading in my car while the engine warms up enough to defrost its own diggity windows. Hah! I win!

However, as if to make up for its icicle mornings, Canberra offers up a wealth of stunningly gorgeous, sunny, crisp-shining winter days. Bitter mornings turn, within hours, into endless blue skies, creating days that beg to be delighted in via market adventures and sunny walks with dear friends.

This past weekend, my wondertastic friend and blogger-extraordinaire Helen had a whirlwind visit to Canberra, and asked for my company during her free time on Sunday. Along with her I-can’t-even-comprehend-their-level-of-kitchen-magic friends Mr and Mrs Pig Flyin’, we met at the Southside Farmers Market for chatting, tasting, and meandering. I rekindled my love of roasted chestnuts, bought many Pink Lady apples, and then had the crikey scared out of me by the largest daikon I’ve ever seen.

Photo courtesy of Helen

(Margaret, I dedicate this photo to you and your desire for more of my nincompoop moments on this blog.)

Later in the morning Helen, Mr and Mrs Pig Flyin’, and I headed to the Old Bus Depot Markets, where I confused my stomach by following up a thousand flavoured nut samples (seaweed and wasabi macadamias, oh yes) with chocolate soy chai tea, honey, blue cheese, and fiery-hot chilli sauce samples. I also convinced the three Sydney-siders to partake in Canberra’s ye olde Mulled Wine, which is delicious.

After farewelling Helen with a hug and much happiness to have seen her face, I picked up my beloved E.Moonbeams for a long-overdue catch-up. I have missed E.Moonbeams with all my soul this past month, and dearly wish that, on some alternate plane, we could forever be making coffee, heart-talking, and cavorting together.

As that alternate plane doesn’t exist (to my knowledge), E.Moonbeams and I must settle for regular rendezvous instead. I would like for these to always happen in places of beauty like the Yarralumla Nursery (top photo), where we can drink coffee while sitting in the sun, and then walk across bridges and lakes and golf courses while talkinglaughing. It is important to have days like this to remember how glorious life can be.

Life is also glorious when you get to experiment with intoxicatingly-perfumed cacao butter (thank you for the gift, dear Margaret!), but that’s a story for another day.

Headmindsquishy, and The Second Nincompoop Video

Posted on March 1, 2012 by Hannah

Here is what my head currently feels like:

(The tiny wonky smiles are there to remind me that even when everything seems like anxiety and nausea, there are always moments in the day that reflect the magical laughing sparkling brilliance of life. And, right now, those moments are due to wonderful, wonderful beloved friends making things better.)

Here is what I would like to be eating right now:

A Caramel Mud Cake Peanut Butter Sandwich.

Or:

My Raw Vegan Carob Maple Brownies.

Or maybe:

A Pineappleberry Smoothie.

As I head off to eat cake with my Dad, I’ll leave you with a five second video (taken from the same night as the slow-motion cavorting you’ve already seen) in which my brother tried to take a still photo of me “running on the spot” and instead captured me, well… heaven only knows:

My favourite part is the split second at the end where you see me look over at my mum with an expression of “what on earth am I doing?!” on my face.

I think that’s maybe how I feel right now.

Question Time: What do you wish you were eating at this very moment?

Dairy-Free Peanut Butter Bubble Slice with Jackson Pollock Chocolate Icing

Posted on February 11, 2012 by Hannah

Hello new readers who’ve popped over from my SBS Featured Foodie interview! I do hope you find something to tickle your fancy here. For my regular readers, I’m absolutely honoured to announce that SBS has chosen me to be their Featured Foodie for the next few weeks. (There may or may not have been dancing in the office when SBS first contacted me.) My interview is available here, if you’d like to read it. Heel-click!

There are things in this world that aren’t entirely fantastic.

Like when your legs decide they’ve walked up enough stairs, and you spend three minutes struggling to unlock your front door (even stamping your foot in frustration at one point), before realising that you’re trying to break into the apartment below yours.

Like turning and fleeing up the stairwell whilst hearing the real owners open their door from inside, clearly wondering what in crikey is going on.

Like the cold feeling of doom that hits because you’re wearing heels and making loud clip-clop noises all the way up the stairs, and your victims will definitely know that it was you trying to break in because the only other person on your floor is Mr Stinky Never Washes, and he never wears high heels. (At least not in public.)

Luckily, there are also things in this world that are unequivocally brilliant.

Like going to see the devastatingly-talented Andy’s final concert for his Honours examinations, and swooning over the music he creates at the piano.

Like cheering and whooping when he receives First Class Honours, and deciding to make him a (dairy-free and gluten-free) Peanut Butter Bubble Slice in the shape of a number one to celebrate his incredible achievement.

Like trying to decorate prettily the edible peanut buttery number one with melted dark chocolate, but instead creating something that looks like it was iced by Jackson Pollock being attacked by a swarm of bees.

Like sneaking two “A”s for Andy into the dark chocolate squiggles so that you can pretend the chocolate mess was your intention all along.

Like eating enough of the leftover slice to know it was darn-tootin’-tasty regardless of its appearance, and hearing later from Andy that he absolutely loved it too.

Like friendship and deliciousness and music and happiness all rolled into One.

You’re Number One! Dairy-Free Peanut Butter Bubble Slice with Jackson Pollock Chocolate Icing

Adapted from Karina’s Kitchen
(Measurements are a bit funny because I halved Karina’s recipe; this made roughly enough to fill a 20cm [8 inch] square tin.)

1/2 cup plus 2 tb (155g) honey (for a vegan version, use brown rice syrup)
1/3 cup plus 2 tsp (95g) peanut butter
1 tb coconut oil
1 tsp vanilla extract
3 cups (90g) Gluten-Free Rice Bubbles
dark chocolate, melted, to drizzle (optional) (not really) (since when is chocolate optional?) (exactly) (I win)

Line a 20cm (8 inch) square tin with baking paper, extending the paper over two sides. Or, if you’re planning to sculpt the peanut buttery goodness into a You’re Number One-style creation, prepare two tins. One for the sculpting, one for the leftovers. But I digress.
Place the honey, peanut butter, coconut oil and vanilla extract in a large microwave-safe bowl and cook for 2 minutes on medium, stir, then cook for another 2 minutes until the mixture is starting to bubble. If needed, do another 30 seconds. Remove the bowl from the oven and then stir for another 30 seconds or so until the mixture is smooth and thick (trust me, it will thicken).
Stir in the Rice Bubbles and then pour and pat into your prepared tin, before storing in the fridge or freezer. Cut before serving.
If you want to shape half of the mixture into a symbol representative of the awesomeness of the person for whom you’re make the deliciousness, then I say forward ho, lasses and laddies! Forward ho!
Melt chocolate and drizzle over the finished product for additional happiness. Bonus points if you follow in my five-year-old Jackson Pollock-esque footsteps.

I’m submitting this to Ricki’s Wellness Weekend and Allergy-Friendly Lunchbox Love.

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