Lazy Girl Can Cook


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So I have had this blog for years but have been neglectful (read busy) and have let all my writing slide into oblivion.
I had an epiphany today (and then I flushed the toilet- thanks my Babinyu) about how I can write.
I have been looking for a reason to extricate myself from the soul-sucking platform of Farcebook and it’s mindless addiction.
I can quite happily write on there daily but I get little satisfaction from it and feel I lose many (many) hours to its vacuum.
I used to post on my blog short stories and lists of books I was reading but it became harder to maintain the time to create new work and to read new books and just became a reminder of how little I was doing.
Today I was reflecting on how much I post on Farcebook and what I post.
And it dawned on me (tadaaaaaa!) what I can easily blog, if not once a week, at least once a month.
I cannot (much as I’d love to) write short stories and post regularly; my reading, though voracious, is sporadic.
But I cook everyday. I post photos of my creations at least once a month. I love sharing my recipes with friends. I love food.
So there is my answer.
I can return to my dusty and cobweb ridden blog and renew my writing practise with something I know I can contribute to on a regular basis.
I’m not going to go all Donna Hay – I rarely have time to take photos (unless I’ve truly impressed myself and I have time) or give precise measurements or use boutique ingredients. All my cooking is for a growing family of 3 boys often with little time for planning or preparation.
Simple easy food. Usually comfort food. Well pretty much always really.
Mmmmmmmm. Food.



Madlib Poem

I have been playing on . It has many very cool writing prompts and games. I’ve been playing with  the madlib poem generator….

pink man’s pink man

quickly i have never jumped, respectfully beyond
any teapot, your moons have their angry:
in your most round bus are things which shop me,
or which i cannot dance with because they are too effortless

your flat look never will unsoar me
though i have flown myself as screen,
you swim always tissue by tissue myself as victim slips
(cruising simply, tomorrow) her important camera

or if your box be to float me, i and
my lens will talk very foolishly, honestly,
as when the dustbin of this teapot twists
the fish slightly everywhere looking;

nothing which we are to mirror in this ball whistles
the hat of your shy tent: whose typewriter
hums me with the salad of its potato,
scanning zoo and hand with each running

(i do not move what it is about you that cuts
and talks; only something in me sings
the light of your moon is purpler than all victims)
floor, not even the bed, has such bent roads
– Cle & e.e. cummings

Create Your Own Madlib on


I visited the Oracle again.

The word of the day was tactile.

This got me thinking about  things, mainly a bad joke which , at the risking of losing my audience, I’m going to get out of my system.

Did you hear about the blind man who picked up a cheesegrater?

He claimed it was the most violent book he had ever read.

And off to the back of the bus I go…….


Word of the Day

I need to see a doctor. Instead I went to the Oracle. And she gave me a word. And the word was my condition.


I am suffering from inenarrability. Truly.

I have all these great stories in my head. Fantastic stories. I have four stories in various journals that I have started. Wonderful stories, funny stories, strange stories. Unfinished stories. I get about a third or half way through the story and I get stuck. I can see the story in my head, the whole thing, unfolding, in all its glory. But can I write it? Can I make that leap from imagination to paper? No. I try, I write, I stop, I try again, I stop. It is stuck. My story ia untellable, indescribable, unreachable…inenarrable.

Why I have not written….


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So I have a friend, who I don’t write to often enough, who informed me that the 18th of July was “International Make Up A Really Good Reason For Not Writing Day”.

I’m so good at this that it has taken me 3 days to write my reasons…

I was kidnapped by pirates.

 Dr Who has taken me to a parallel universe where pen and paper have never existed.

 I slipped into a rabbit hole, shrank, had a tea party, fought a dragon, played a croquet game, danced with a lobster, baby sat a pig, built a card house and by the time I got home I was so tired I fell asleep.

 My children used up all my writing implements creating their own neo-expressionist art work on their bedroom wall. They fed all my paper to the DVD player. All I have left is my lipstick….you can’t take that away from me!

 My pencils and pens have gone on strike. They staged a walk out early this morning and are currently congregated on my front lawn. They are holding placards that read “Writing stink! Save our ink!” and “Pencils shout! Don’t rub us out!”

After listening to rousing speeches from an aging fountain pen they are breaking into protest songs. There appear to be two factions forming. There is the B Pencil Group who are demanding less sharpening and the Biro Party who want their lids back. The one issue they are in agreement on is no more chewing. Stay tuned for further updates.

This Week

I’m bringing the weekly dose back. That is the plan anyway.

Books: If nothing else I have maintained my ability to consume several books at one time. The past few weeks has seen all The Dexter books, save the fourth one, devoured and enjoyed. I have also (thanks to my voracious reader son) picked up and read the first 3 Artemis Fowl books. I am currently reading the fourth ( I believe there are 3 more after that!). I also have to finish Tim Winton’s Turning Point and Neil Gaiman’s Smoke and Mirrors.

That’s about it folks. I’m hoping to make a point of doing some journal work each night  and once a week posting the best bits here….watch this space!!