Cold.

As I write this I am huddled in front of the fire. Our electricity bill arrived in the mail during the week and my husband has turned all the heating off from the shock of it. It has never been quite so high. And we're talking the price of a Gucci handbag, high. Admittedly, we were running two of our heat pumps 24/7 and may have even left them on overnight with the back door open so that our elderly beagles wouldn't get cold AND on the off chance they might remember to go outside for a pee. What were we thinking? One of the meters was an estimate, so I am still clinging onto the hope that there was a mistake.....and then the first thing to go back on is the en suite underfloor heating. Fingers crossed.

Watching James Bond parachute the Queen into the Olympic Opening Ceremony reminded me that when I was about thirteen, I wanted to grow up to be a Bond Girl:

Seeing that this was back in the day when Roger Moore was James Bond, this is some confession. We watched Octopussy last year while staying at the Taj Lake Palace in Udaipur, where some of the scenes were filmed, so when I say that Roger Moore was NOT the best James Bond, I know what I'm talking about. Daniel Craig, on the other hand, is enough to make me lament that I didn't follow through on my teenage inspired career path. My husband would like to be James Bond and I'm happy with that. Last time he needed a new cossie we walked town looking for a similar one to that in the beach scene from Casino Royale. It didn't quite look the same. Maybe we bought the wrong cossie.

Last night we went to a party:

I wore this long By Malene Birger sequinned singlet top which I bought from the Outnet ages ago. When I'm struggling with inspiration and ask my boys the question 'What should I wear' they pick this top.....every single time. Maybe I just shouldn't ask them anymore. If it was up to them they would have me wear this top, without the jacket, to drop them off at school. Seeing it's sequinned and a tad see through, I haven't yet.

We got to the party at 7pm and were home....by 8.30pm and this included time to stop off at Annapurna and acquire a takeaway curry. I'm afraid that our poor party form may have been influenced by a pact we made after the decadent excess of the earlier part of the month. We were a little bit tiddly when we decided to challenge ourselves to be vegetarian teetotallers until the end of the month.....three long weeks ago. So far we haven't wavered.....although someone, who wasn't me, may have eaten a quince and venison pie for lunch yesterday.

That's why I have a Jamie Oliver English style fish pie in the oven for dinner tonight......to eat while we watch Day 1 of competition live from London. Washed down with a glass of....water.

Rx

PS Thank you, thank you, thank you to everybody who has become a follower of my blog! I am speechless that I am approaching fifty....followers that is. Look what I did with Cumquat Compote yesterday for afternoon tea:

Dolloped it on top of a piece of Lemon and Almond Cake.....it was delicious! If you haven't already, it's not too late to become a follower to be in the running to win your very own jar.....oh, and of course the book.

Art.

At lunchtime I was convinced that today was shaping up as more than averagely monotonously dull. Luckily the stars aligned and our favourite babysitter was free so I coerced Kim to take me to the Nicholas Blowers opening at the Bett Gallery in North Hobart:

Sophisticated Friday evening entertainment, eh what? There was wine and curious thought provoking conversation prompted by the artworks on display:

There is no doubt about it, Nicholas Blowers has a talent for trees. They have been the subject of his work for years:

The layers of paint add and labourious detail make them incredibly realistic and beautiful. You are almost consumed in the stillness and intimacy of the scene.

But wait, there was more than trees:

These curiously realistic yet unidentifiable insect like creatures which were seductive yet repulsive at the same time.

And to cap it all off we brought home....not a painting but an Annapurna curry.

R

Date.

Last night I went on a date with my husband. My mum is staying so we were making the most of the free babysitting and I have to say that it is liberating to be able to just walk out the door. Usually I have to exhaustingly have them all fed and pyjamaed beforehand. Not last night.

Because we are totally predictable we went and had dinner here:

Ever since we returned from our whirlwind tour of India, almost two months ago, we have been taste testing our way around Hobart's Indian Restaurants with the single minded intention of finding Hobart's best Indian Restaurant. We have come to the following conclusion - that either of the Annapurna Restaurant's win the title (either North Hobart or Salamanca) yet you have to dine in and the best meal to order is this:

The Annapurna Thali. It is a tasting plate of three curries that the chef randomly combines at whim along with rice, roti, raita and papadum. Unfortunately, they don't offer a takeaway Thali so you have to dine in - maybe it's for the best as the roti is still warm and puffy, not tepid and claggy the way it gets having spent time in the foil lined bag in the car on the way home.

See, it looks quite similar to the Thali we ate in our room at the divine Taj Lake Palace in Udaipur:

When I wore my beautiful pink sari:

I wore jeans and not the sari last night. While the food at Annapurna is good even though the fashion may be extremely casual unfortunately the view out the window just can't compete with the view from the Lake Palace:

Today, after four days of hedonistic Christmas carry on, I was back in the hot room. I regretted every mince tart, chocolate and glass of wine that I had consumed on my four day hiatus. At standing bow pose I started feeling dizzy and the tops of my ears tingled. How will it be tomorrow?

R