My reluctant muse

My husband recently commented that he'd like me to write about something else other than him for a change. It is fair to say that he is a frequents in my posts, but really, how can I not use him as material when there are such brilliant ideas for a story right in front of my nose!

My friend and I used to say that our writing is so much more interesting and complex when we are unhappy, which usually meant straight after we'd broken up with the latest man of our dreams. Nothing like a tortured artist, hey?

However, I really think marriage has brought this whole extra dimension to my creativity. Still, after almost six years together, I am puzzled by this lovely creature who shares their life with me. There are moments when I think living with a boy is the worst punishment a very organised and slightly control freakish female could have. And then there are those moments when I count my blessings. After all, he really loves me. Why else would he put with my quirks?

So, to my darling husband: thank you for being my muse, albeit a reluctant one. Thank you for letting me be a girl every now and then and thank you for making me cups of tea even though it's 11pm at night and way too late for tea in your opinion. And for everything else as well. I will continue using you as my material, but I'll try to be kind. As long as you don't leave beard hair in the bathroom sink after shaving. Thank you.

Sleep deprivation

I dedicate this post to all those new mums, who spent some or most of the year 2010 in a zombie like state due to continuous sleep deprivation caused by adorable, but not very sleepy babies.

You are my heroes.

I spent most of December 2010 wondering where the sleep has gone and it seems 2011 has started the same way.

I haven't started doing anything too stupid yet, but laughing in stitches at inappropriate things can only be the beginning.

So, I'd like to say my apologies in advance. This might turn out to be a very interesting year.

Third wheel

I am currently experiencing something that is not legal in most cultures. The Third Wheel is visiting and it really feels like having two husbands.

They are already speaking in unison and answering questions on behalf of each other. And as neither of them has been shaving of late, they are also starting to look like each other.

However, as much as I love them both, I can not help but wonder: How on earth do some people manage multiple spouses?

Photos and babies

It’s been almost a year since my husband and I got married. At the time I was convinced that we would have our wedding photos edited, printed and placed in an album within six months of the wedding. After all, my husband is a wedding photographer and he is very disciplined and organised when it comes to client photos. How wrong was I?

We are celebrating our first anniversary on Sunday and the wedding photos are still in the same stage they were two months after the wedding: on the computer, untouched. At some stage my husband lost the CDs the originals were on, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed that nothing happens to the computer.

However, apparently I’m not the only one. I just spoke to a colleague who revealed that their photos are pretty much in the same state, and they got married six months before us. Her plan is to sort them out later this year, when she goes on maternity leave.

Hmm... I’m not liking my options at the moment.

Left vs. Right

A couple of weeks ago I was standing in an escalator during my lunch break (well, to be honest, I was actually shopping - I am not quite so sad that I would spend my lunch break traveling up and down in an escalator). The same way it took me a while to get used to the left-hand traffic in Australia, it took me a while to remember to stand on the left-hand side in the escalator, pass people on the left and look right before crossing a road.

However, after two and a half years of living in Melbourne, I was quite confident that I knew where I was supposed to stand and took my place on the left-hand side of the escalator – only to realise everyone else was standing on the right. This happening in the middle of winter, when there surely aren’t any tourists here, was deeply confusing and enough to make me question all my learnings since I moved to Australia.

And then it happened again. I was walking towards the tram stop after work one day and half way there I almost pumped into a woman after I tried to pass her on the left and she tried to pass me on the right (which was my left). We did that awkward little dance where you both move to the same direction simultaneously for ten seconds or so, before finally managing to continue our respective journeys.

Now, did I miss a memo or what is happening in here? Has the rule recently changed or is the whole nation just trying to pull my leg?

The Superior Sex

There are some moments in a girl's life, when she can truly feel superior to the male sex.

My moment took place yesterday, as I educated a 30-something year old male about skin care and taught him how to knit.

Thank you B, for making me feel like God.

Becoming a foodie

When my now-husband came over to my place for a visit just when we had started going out, he wasn’t too impressed with the contents of my fridge: mineral water and eye cream.

I was straight out of uni and food was not a priority in my life. I lived on noodles, oatmeal and other random ingredients you would hardly call food. Money could certainly be spent on more interesting things than nourishing my body.

I am not quite sure when the switch happened. I could have been when I first discovered the market near our apartment and fell in love with getting fresh produce straight from the growers, choosing the eye fillet from the butcher’s shop or getting a cheese sample from a gourmet vendor before choosing antipasto for a dinner party. I could have also been any of those trips to local wineries, where I dutifully smelled, tasted and swallowed through a wine tasting list before choosing my favourite chardonnay and pinot noir to take home. But I am pretty sure that living in the food capital of Australia (maybe even the world) and sampling the best Melbourne hast to offer has had definitely had something to do with it.

Whatever the trigger was, gone is the food-exists-just-to-keep-me-alive mentality. I am now a full blown foodie.

I go to the local market every Saturday morning, as nothing could be more important than my weekly date with fresh produce. I love sampling the fresh grapes before buying (as a Finn, this took some coaching to get used to, but it feels pretty normal now) and I know exactly which butcher has the best eye fillet and where to get the freshest salmon. I love organising dinner parties and secretly enjoy slaving in the kitchen over a three course meal. And I actually sit down over the weekend to plan dinners for the coming week.

My love affair with food is blossoming, and I couldn’t be happier. Tonight I am going to cook some grilled salmon, fresh veggies and maybe have a glass of Chardonnay. Anyone care to join me?