Clean car and full bellies

Clean car and full bellies

If its the weekend and you feel productive like, eager to accomplish something, buzzing with energy, grab a bucket and a few brushes and look around. There is always something that could use them. Always (at least in my house).

This is what I found, hiding in the garage:

This baby has not been washed in…in…I dont think anyone has a memory that long, sorry.

The dust had become part of the paint. There was food in every possible indent inside. About a ton of sand graced the floor and if you had spilled some water, there would have been no need to drive all the way to the beach – hey, that was kind of handy. Clothes! Why do clothes stick to the car? Socks, tops, pants, jackets, have your pick, we had it. And receipts! A bulging pile was stuffed in the driver’s door, the passenger door had other sort of papers…grime and sticky mess on every surface that was left open.

If your car has never looked like that – you suck! Sorry, but that is the only way I can handle your organizational skills and enthusiasm.  I wish I could blame the kids, it will be oh so convenient, but the truth is, that my house and car looked like the end of the world, way before my womb got busy. As a matter of fact, I think I am getting better with age – my cleanliness is like wine, how poetic.

This, on the other hand, lacked any poetic qualities:

So, I plopped a cute young man in the back seat and got to work.

The cute young man is essential for the success of the job.

He keeps morale going.

Imagine, you are bent over filth, vacuuming last year’s left overs, then you look over and…Ahhh, life is good, when a half naked man is sitting on the back seat enjoying the music (Marvin Gaye, by the way).

Checking the quality of the work done.

The mitt was out too.

THE mitt.

And the car started to look more like a car, then like a mobile hoarder’s den.

The boss was pleased.

And I really like it when he is pleased.

Cause I am a slave to his wishes.

“Can I go in the house, Master?”


“Can I go in the house to make a snack, Master?”

And off I went, leaving the boys to their toys. Much cleaner toys.

I had some chickpeas that were ready for use. Mixed up some olives that went in the oven.

Recipe? Sure

Kalamata olives
Orange and lemon peel
chopped up chilli
fennel seeds
ev olive oil

Mix and bake for 15-20 min.

Not long after I went into the kitchen, my helper joined me and assisted in the makings of the flat crunchy breads.

The dough is a rough mix of flour, oil, sesame oil, sesame seeds, salt and baking soda.  Rolled thinly and then cooked on a hot dry plate.

The result was – hummus, olives, smoked muscles and flat breads.

I think I over-baked the olives, but they were tastey.


Pictured here with the latest table-book, aka the book that stands on the table and everyone is flicking through.

At the moment its Charlie Chaplin.

We love him

The kids adored “The Kid”.

If you havent seen it, go, do that.

The troops went to the store to finish buying the ingredients for Miss Fab’s recipe. She was cooking dinner.

So I had some peace and quiet to set up our afternoon snack.

And wait.

And wait.

Then the wild beasts came, I heard their voices.

The rest of the story went something like that: