PACKING IT IN

I've been contemplating this for a while and I've finally made my decision.

Today I say goodbye to this little blog. Today I bid you all my dear readers, a farewell.

Quite simply, I'm just too busy to even try to put words together on a regular basis. This last year I've transposed a few words on this blog just to be able to say that I've contributed. Alas the reality is, my mind is flooded with lots of material, but I can't find the time nor the relaxing silence to write it out effectively. Consequently, I've come to the conclusion that I. Am. Not. A. Blogger. I can't spin shit out of my arse regularly and so far I've only accomplished a conservative number in audience and very few comments each post. Let's get real here, I really don't have anything to profoundly illustrate anymore.

The light in my lamp has diminished.

And I couldn't care less. Really, I don't. This is no attempt at me being a victim and trying to hoodwink any sympathy votes and comments in order to continue. I simply have engaged in other activities in my life and writing in blogging form has not taken a priority.

I truly believe that blogging is for certain people or situations. For those who inspired me in the first place to write: The primary and secondary infertility community, the pregnant journeys and the established mummy bloggers. For those who would otherwise write in a diary, the ones who reach out in an educating and supporting circumstance and offer information. The cooks, the fashionista's and the inspiring writers/journalists trying to forge a widespread audience in order to be classified as authors.

I don't have any ambition in blogging anymore.

My week in general is spent: working, going to the gym, entertaining my son, being a conscientious housewife, spending time with extended family, socialising and very soon undertaking another tertiary qualification to further my skills. If I have some spare time, I might make love or watch a movie or read a book or knit or sleep or just stare into space.

I could have just disappeared, not posted and none would have been the wiser. I'm just offering an unpretentious explanation. The blog won't be deleted and it will remain in the Internet for anyone to find. For those in the darkness searching, and then a whisper trickles in their heart after they read my infertility story and it inspires them to hope and have faith again.

Or maybe they need a recipe for Galaktoboureko.

Or accidentally found their way here after googling arse, bum, cunt or fuck... weirdos.

I'll still be stalking and reading your blogs even if I now comment as 'anonymous'. If you would like to continue our shenanigans together and correspond more personally, just like I have done with others, please contact me on:

backache7@hotmail.com

"Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened."

~ Dr. Seuss

"When another blogger can get over 600 comments writing about stuffed weasels, that is when I know I'm in the wrong business and should be utilising my time to scratch my minge instead"

~ Athena

Handwriting

When was the last time you wrote? Actually wrote with a pencil or pen in your hand? I can't remember, maybe last weeks shopping list?

How fucking boring - cheese, milk, bread ....

Edenland is a legend blogger and came up with this fanfuckingtastic idea for a meme of sorts and linking up with other bloggers. Every Saturday she will put up a theme that anyone can contribute to. I know it's Monday, but I've finally taken my finger out of my arse, and I promised her I would participate. So here is my effort. I've always liked this quote about children reading. I encourage my son often to pick out a book and I read it to him.

I hope reading books doesn't become perfunctory just like handwriting has become.

The kids at my work often describe and associate my handwriting with graffiti, the tagging kind. I wonder what my tag would have been in my youth?

"Children want to do what the grown ups do. Children should learn that reading is pleasure, not just something that teachers make you do in school"

~ Beverly Cleary.

Welcome To My Humble Abode You Magnificent Tarts

Since writing my last post and finally celebrating the inclusion of being in a motherhood brigade, I had this earth shattering realisation. Most of the mothers I know are not In My Real Life. Sure I have girlfriends who became mothers waaaaay before I did and they are still integral in my life with information and support. However, all of them live far and it's very rare to physically meet up and share a conversation about parenting with a hot beverage in hand (or an alcoholic variety) as other life and personal situations take priority . The majority of information, support and even a good laugh out loud moment is me sitting at a desk, reading words and staring at photos on the computer - sharing life stories with other mothers.

I'm not sure whether that is fucking sad or what?

All of these women I first "met" on the web via a birth club forum. A forum that I was already part of when I was trying to conceive and also as a miscarriage survivor. Nowadays we are all part of an exclusive and definitely not elusive group of mothers on the Fac.ebook. A much more easily accessible social network with the addition of privacy and protection for the information we disclose and the photos of ourselves and our children that we post.

If I have an issue with toilet training - I go to this group.

If I want some support and reassurance about returning to study whilst still tackling motherhood, wifehood and working part time and everything else in between - I go to this group.

If I want to share ideas, offer my knowledge or just a plain old vent - I go to this group.

If I want to spray my coffee on my computer screen because someone made me piss my pants laughing - I go to this group.

If I just want to lose myself for just a minute in the beautiful community of mothers who don't judge you - I go to this group.

Most of all, the surface of who these women are resonates what I believe they would be like In Real Life - strong, compassionate, creative, selfless, humble, caring, beautiful, and awesome women.

Thanks girls for completing me and being such an important influence in my role as a mother.

You bunch of fucking magnificent tarts!

If we ever do meet in person and you are invited to my home, I will indulge you with this classic Greek appetizer or snack.

~~~~~~

Spanakopita- Cheese & Spinach Pie

Ingredients
 
12 sheets filo pastry

120g butter, melted
1/4 cup (60ml) olive oil
1 or even 2kg baby spinach (depending how much you love the spinach)
250g feta cheese, crumbled
150g ricotta cheese
1 brown onion, finely chopped
1 bunch shallots, finely chopped (optional)
2 garlic cloves, crushed
2 tbs chopped dill
4 eggs, beaten

Method
 
1. Heat oil in a fry pan, then add onion, shallots and garlic. Cook for 1 minute until softened, then add spinach and half the dill. Cook, stirring, over low heat for 1-2 minutes or until spinach has wilted. Drain in a colander and cool, then combine with cheeses, eggs, salt and pepper.

2. Preheat oven to 180°C. Brush a 2 1/2-litre baking dish with butter. Lay one sheet of filo on base and sides and brush with butter. Repeat with 5 more sheets. Spread cheese mixture over top. Cover with remaining filo, brushing each sheet with butter. Trim excess pastry with kitchen scissors and tuck edges into sides of dish. Brush top with butter and score lightly with knife.

OR

Roll the filling to create a dim sim look.

OR

Fold the filling into individual triangle shapes.

Bake for 45 minutes or until golden colour. Rest for a few minutes. Can be eaten hot or room temperature.

This recipe can be substituted for any ingredients you prefer, it is so versatile!

~~~~~

This post is also dedicated to Ants - Making Baby Giraffes, who finally welcomed her long awaited baby girl in December 2011. She asked me for this recipe a very long time ago. Spanakopita is great for a light snack when you are too buggered to cook. The spinach content is also high in iron and perfect for vitamin intake whilst breastfeeding.

Image Credit