Day dreaming

My boyfriend and I both took the day off today, to hang out together. Why would we do that, you ask? Because lord knows we hardly see each other, what with us living together, being the anti-social homebodies we are, and having no responsibilities apart from getting to work 5 days a week. Well, Just Because, that's why.

So I went on my usual day-off walk through the woods, and because there was a light sprinkling of rain (the only type they seem to get here in London), there was hardly a soul about. It felt so luxurious to have all that space to myself, inhaling the smell of sodden earth, with the raindrops making chandeliers of the branches. I was basking in the peace and quiet that only a true wanna-be hermit can fully appreciate. Space is at such a premium here in London, and there are so many people crammed into this city, that it does feel strangely like a holiday when you manage to find a space to yourself.

I guess this is what parents (well, mums) mean when they rave about having just the tiniest smidgeon of space and privacy while ensconed in the whirlwind of raising kids, huh? You know, those people who are grateful just to be able to go to the loo in peace?

*sigh*

Melbourne/London

It's funny, the longer I stay over here, the scarier and more overwhelming the prospect of "going home" becomes. I don't know how long I would have to be over here before it felt more like home than...home, but I am guessing maybe never. Home is where your family are. And lovely though he is, my boyfriend doesn't quite qualify as family yet.

I have been over here for four years now - one more year and I qualify for residency. Scary and confusing: although I can see the benefits of becoming a resident (a UK passport would be SO sweet), it seems like a huge commitment to a country I never planned to live in for this long.

The truth is, I had hoped to return home mid-this year. Unfortunately, my boyfriend's father passed away unexpectedly last November, so our long-term plans have been shelved for the moment. I really don't know when I will be going home, which is kind of sad.

Life here still holds that dream-like quality which any expatriate will know about, where it feels like your real life has been suspended, and you are floating in space (like Ripley in Alien). Even though your body still functions - you go to work, cook meals and go to bed just like always - part of your heart remains in limbo, waiting for the return home and to your "real" life. I wish I could commit wholeheartedly to a new life here, which would make everything that much simpler, but I think I will always feel that pull towards home, to my parents and brothers.

Then again, I think it is part of my make up to feel a constant, underlying sense of yearning for some indefinable thing or state.

Maybe I have a restless soul. Or maybe this is just part of the human condition, part of what drives us to live, work, form relationships, procreate. Would I feel this way if I grew up in a remote village with no education or knowledge of the wider world? Who knows. In the meantime, in a less cerebral world, Spring has woken, ever so gently, and the evening light is taking on the most delicate soft pink hue. It is easy to feel a bit more hopeful when your walk home is accompanied by nodding daffodils and snowdrops, lit by this heavenly glow.

Workday flapjacks

These recipe for these yummy apple, fig and walnut flapjacks comes from 101 Cakes and Bakes. If you come across them, these little BBC Good Food books are full of great recipes, which are very straighforward and quick to make. This one is a little fiddly, but very yummy... and no wheat.

450gm bramley (cooking) apples
grated zest of one lemons
100gm dried figs (I used ready-to-eat, which was much better for stewing)
250gm porridge oats
2 large tablespoons golden syrup
50gm light muscovado sugar
140gm butter
tsp ground cinnamon
25gm walnuts, chopped

Peel and core the apples, then chop and stew with a little water over a medium heat until soft. Chop the figs finely and add them to the apple with the zest, and cook for 15 minutes until the mixture is fairly dry.

Meanwhile, melt the butter, sugar and golden syrup over a low heat. Don't let the mixture boil. When it is melted, remove from the heat and add the oats and cinnamon. Mix well.

You are supposed to puree the apple/fig mix, but mine was already pretty smooth - I don't think you need bother. In fact, although you are supposed to make this in three layers, I think you could probably just mix all the ingredients to save the faff. I am all for skipping the faff.

Line a baking tray with some greaseproof paper. Spread half of the oat mixture across the bottom, then spread the apple mix on top. The rest of the oat mixture then goes on top of that. Sprinkle the chopped walnuts over the top, and bake for 25 minutes at 180 degrees. When it is cooled, cut into pieces as best you can (it will be a bit of a gooey mess).

Melbourne Dreaming turns one!

Break out the Stevie Wonder and crack the Verve Cliquot! I managed to bust through the notorious three-month barrier and make it a full year of blogging goodness.

I will be celebrating with a glass of Amaretto and some Cote d'or Noir Framboise. Mmmmm booze'n'chocolate.

The dark side of the big city

Of course, living in a big city is hard, dirty and stressful. I have it pretty good; I found work relatively easily and earn enough to enjoy a decent quality of life. But every day here, I see beggars on the streets, migrants doing the jobs that no native would stoop to; and the stupidly huge gap between the super-wealthy and the dirt poor and struggling horrifies me.

There are some people who manage to make the most of their circumstances and maintain a sense of pride, which is humbling to witness. The elevator man at my work is a lovely Ghanian with a voice like Louis Armstrong and a smile like Pelé. Last Christmas, the girls I work with and I bought him a pudding for the festive season. In return, he gave us each a drawing of the plants that are dotted around the building at work, with a heartfelt message about how much he loves nature and always takes time to appreciate it.

That man shines with inner joy and peace, and he passes it on to everyone who brushes by him on a busy morning, numbed though they are to the suffering of the wider world.