Autumn Down Under

It is autumn in Melbourne and it is rather cold outside with only 13C today. How come 13C feels so nippy here when 13C in Sweden is quite tolerable? When I comment on the weather here – I am Swedish, commenting on the weather is a compulsive behavior we Swedes have – the Aussies seem surprised: ”you’re from Sweden, you must be used to the cold weather”. Yes, winters in Sweden are much colder than the Melbournian winter. And yes, I am used to the cold OUTSIDE, I am not used to it being cold INSIDE as well. Single glazing and poor isolation seem to be a problem in housing not only here but everywhere except most Scandinavian homes. I keep the window blinds down all day in an attempt to keep it warmer inside. I pull up the blinds only when it’s sunshine and the sun is warming up the windows. This is a friendly initiative for the environment as well as for the electricity bill.

I went shopping for indoor sheep skin shoes for the entire family. My husband looked a little reluctant at first, shoes with white fluff and a bow is not his first choice of foot gear but after having tried them on he is now an Ugg aficionado. Ugg boots are are a unisex style sheepskin boots made of twin-faced sheepskin with fleece on the inside and with a tanned outer surface, often with a synthetic sole and made for indoor use. Originally from Australia and New Zealand, these boots have become fashionable outdoor winter shoes all across the globe. I would like to point out that if you choose to wear your sheepskin shoes as outdoor shoes, wear the boots and not the slippers. Last week I met a lady outside IKEA who was wearing her slippers as shoes. Being a shoe-lover, it was painful to watch. Just behind her came a young couple, they were both wearing thongs, which in Australian English does not mean a tiny underwear with only a string between your buttocks but what I would call ”flip-flops”.  That was also painful to watch, it must have been freezing cold.

Compared to the winters in Sweden, I will expect the winter in Melbourne to be mild. As soon as the sun goes down, the temperature drops down to just a couple of degrees above the freezing point of 0C. After many years in warm countries I am not used to the cold. But I am a viking so I just say ”bring it on Jack Frost, bring it on”. 

Sheepskin shoes - preferably used indoors

Some thoughts on an Aussie food special

I like to cook. I like to bake too. Fortunately, I like to eat as well. I do however not like to exercise. Since we moved to Australia I don’t manage to get weekly walks as I did in Kuwait where I spend several mornings per week roaming around the shopping malls, searching for something new to put in my closet. Most of these power walks/shopping sprees were preceded by a breakfast or followed by a lunch. Here in Australia I do not spend my time straying in shopping malls, hence some of my natural exercise is lost. Since I clean the house thoroughly several times per week I manage to work up quite the pulse and I have found that cleaning, mopping and dusting gives a more all-round exercise than walking in a mall even if the walking is with extra weight in the shape of shopping bags. Either my jeans have all shrunk over the Melbournian summer or all the Australian goodness is taking a toll on me. Desperate times call for desperate measures; I am now on a new popular diet called 5-2 diet, meaning that two days per week I am only eating 500 kcal. I have chosen Mondays and Thursdays. It is hard but with lots of green tea and water, I get through these days.

                                  Exercising Kuwaiti style 

 Australia has beautiful fresh produce and groceries and everything taste so much better here. This is not a scientific fact just my personal opinion as an epicure. I have been eating my way through the supermarket and have resumed my culinary love affair with lamb. The lamb in Kuwait had a strange flavor to it, pungent even. A friend suggested that it might be due to the halal butchering. I try to get at least one dish each of chicken, pork, beef, lamb and fish or seafood on the table every week. It seems like endless possibilities to have a varied menu. Yet I find myself glancing at the refrigerated counter with kangaroo meat. I never tried camel in Kuwait, intestines in Mexico or insects in Thailand. I am considering to try kangaroo though, an animal considered as a pest in Australia. There are actually twice as many kangaroos in Australia than people. I found a cook book online with ”Roocipes” with somewhat morbid headlines like ”kangaroo on your plate, mate!” and ”hop to it”. When I decide to go all the way with a kangaroo fillet, it has to be on a day when our daughters are away from home. They are strong objectors to even trying this protein. Once my husband had wallaby sausage when he was in Tasmania on a business trip and the daughters can’t really forgive him for it, especially not since he declared the sausage to be ”delicious”. I will contemplate on the Australian cuisine in another diary entry. Right now it’s Thursday and I need some more tea and water. I am paying the price for having rolled the dice. 

                             "Darlings, don't play with the food please!" 

Bondi Vet: TV for girls of all ages

My daughters are huge animal lovers and they love to watch a show on TV called ”Bondi Vet”. It is a reality show where you get to follow two veterinarians in their daily work. I love to watch ”Bondi Vet” too despite not being a huge animal lover. I am actually afraid of most animals, I am sure that they will attack me when I least expect it. Therefore, I always make sure I keep a safe distance in case I am proven right. What I find so appealing with ”Bondi Vet” is the vet himself, Dr. Chris Brown. He is a true hunk; classic handsome features, such a worked out body, funny and pleasant, animal-lover and he can call himself Doctor. He’s single too after a break up with some Aussie TV-personality. I know ’cause I googled him. He’s also on another show called ”The Living Room” where you could win a trip with him and a TV-chef, a fairly handsome Spaniard, to South Africa for ten days. I cannot participate as you need to have an Australian passport. Perhaps it’s for the best, my marriage would have been in jeopardy if I’d been away for ten days with this gorgeous man.

        Dr Chris - Australia's hottest vet, possibly hottest man too. 

When you watch Australian TV-programs, you’ll soon notice that most TV-personalities are very handsome people. Vets, chefs, architects, doctors, life guards, training coaches, judges on singing shows... they are all unusually good looking. With this in mind, you’d think that Australia is a continent populated only by incredibly beautiful people. After more than six months I can now tell you that this is not the case. Australians are not more beautiful than any other nationality. It just looks like that on TV.

Another favorite of mine is TV-chef Curtis Stone. He is not as handsome as Dr Chris but a man who can cook is always attractive. Curtis Stone is sponsored by the supermarket chain Coles and you can win a private cooking class with Chef Curtis. Perhaps I shall look into this instead? An afternoon in the kitchen with a fairly handsome chef sounds less home-wrecking than ten days in South Africa with a drop dead gorgeous veterinary. Wish me luck! 

FAQ by Oz mothers

Americans are famed for their ability to shallow small talk – anywhere and anytime. I find that Australians are just as capable; I have met some very friendly and pleasant people in shops, at the bank and so on. But when it comes to socializing with newcomers in school and in the neighborhood, the Australians are even more reserved than Swedes. They simply do not engage in conversations and should you actually manage to get start a conversation you have to work hard on not letting it die out.

There are two questions though that I have been asked by the mothers in school I have managed to have halfhearted conversations with. These ladies have not asked me for my name, how many children I have, how long we have lived here, where we come from, what I think about Australia, if I work. What they are interested in knowing is if we rent our house or if we bought it. Half of the Australians rent their homes, 51% to be exact. I tell them that we rent our abode and I see a satisfied smirk on their faces. ”That pompous European woman with her flat ironed hair and her European city suv, she doesn’t even own her home here – HA!” they seem to think. At least I own my car which is probably more than most mothers in school do. So HA right back at ya’.

                        Our stomping grounds - if ever so temporarily 

The other question these women ask me is how many languages I speak. Having lived in a number of countries, I have picked up a number of languages. I only practice Swedish and English in my daily life but there are three more that I have been more or less fluent in during a period of my life. When I have answered the questions, I am often asked to list the languages and I get asked if I dream in these languages too. No, I do not dream in any other language than my native. If I do, I cannot remember as I was not fully conscious during my sleep. I was in fact sleeping. Hoping to keep the conversation going, I have returned the questions. ”Only English” they have all answered. One even just walked away from me. One told her daughter that she ”felt so stupid” when she heard how many languages I speak when she only speaks English. Well, being Swedish we don’t really have much choice if we want to be able to communicate with people outside our country. Australia is a huge country and a continent in itself, English is widely spoken in the world, I say in a feeble attempt to console. Next time, I won’t try to console – I’ll just remind them that I may speak five languages but I am renting my house. I know that it will make them feel so much better.  

                                 A Tassie devil; just because he is cute!

Culture chock: flashing in the grocery store

There is an expression in French that says ”les extremes se touchent” translates to ”the extremes meet”. I have moved from a rather covered society to a more uncovered one.

Before moving to Australia in October 2012, we lived three years in Kuwait. Kuwait is a fairly traditional Muslim country; no alcohol, no pork, no gambling, no discos or nightclubs and preferably no bare shoulders, cleavage and short skirts on ladies. It was quite easy to obey the law and traditions of Kuwait. When it comes to the dress codes, I cannot say that I am entirely comfortable with a generous cleavage anyway. I prefer people to look in my eyes when they are talking to me. Sweden is known to be a liberal country, filled with girls with very little clothing. This is not true. Sure, the girls are wearing very short skirts, dresses and shorts during summer and their tops can be strapless but still, they ARE wearing clothes.

Australian females are usually wearing clothes too. Many are barefoot during the summer, only a few a barefoot now when autumn is here and cold winds are sweeping in from the South Pole. Surprisingly many dress after the sun; sunshine = shorts and t-shirt and no sun = pants and maybe even a sweater. Sunshine and 16C is not t-shirt weather in my opinion, but by all means, to each his own. I went grocery shopping yesterday. It was fairly cold in the morning so I put on my warm hiking shoes, jeans and a knitted pullover. I was just going to the grocery store after dropping the daughters in school. As I was walking down the aisle with cereals, coffee and té I met a lady who carried her baby in some kind of baby sling across her chest. Not a Baby Björn where the baby is sitting straight but one where s/he was laying down. I had to look again – the woman was actually multitasking: grocery shopping and breastfeeding at the same time. All of a sudden she screams ”ouch, you bit me darling!” and pulled out her milk reservoir out of the baby’s mouth and kept walking with her boob hanging there, uncovered for anyone to see. I was embarrassed on behalf of the lactating mother, or perhaps I should say INSTEAD of the lactating mother as she didn’t seem to have a problem with the fact that one of her boobs was out in the open. Perhaps this is the new generation of mothers, the flashing mothers, the ones who are always on the go and are highly efficient in their every day life? 

When it comes to my personal level of coverage I choose the Golden mean; not too much and not too little. But as always; to each his own. Whatever you’re comfortable with. 

                                        Grocery shopping Stepford style