Here is what happens if you leave the grocery bags on the floor for a little bit longer. I saw him playing with the avocado, but thought to myself “its alright, he cant do too much damage with this firm fruit”.

I was wrong.

Notice the hair mask! The wiping on the shirt. Lovely movements.

And some went in the mouth too, surprisingly enough.

But really, the trick is in the rapid movements.

Smash, smash, poke, poke, squish ( you should have heard the noises!).

The bench got some long needed treatment.

But he is a thoughtful boy. And cheerfully helped me clean up afterwords.

I wasnt allowed to do the wiping at all.

So, dont leave avocados around unless your wood furniture needs to be refreshed.

I have a lot of dreams. One of them is of me enjoying a big studio in the house, where I spend lovely hours designing fabrics, meters and meters of them, then printing them and sorting them out to send to my extremely (of course) happy and satisfied customers. In my dream I am very good at it and the room is abundant in colorful graphic fabrics and big working tables.

Now back to reality, in which I have never done any such thing, short of doing hand prints with the kids on a t-shirt for Mr.Blab for fathers day.  The kids have been asking for aprons, ever since I said I had thought of giving them some as Christmas presents.  Cause they would not get that idea from just watching me. I seem to have no problem with the  wiping of food and gunk on my clothes while cooking. And I wipe a lot. Kind of in a daze. Maybe that is why they asked for aprons…to save themselves from ending up like me! With gunky pants.

Then I found this calico fabric, which seemed perfect for some printing play. And we went for it. We started doing the fabric making.

The kids chose their designs. Ms.Fab wanted to do cherries, so she cut off two circles on one stencil and the stems on another. Then she chose the colors and off she went.

Little B wanted an elephant. I was all prepared to draw this lovely specimen we have on a growth chart, but she insisted on doing it herself. So she did. And she drew the best elephant I have ever seen. I shall call him Elvis Elephant, as he looks like he has some wild stylish hair, dude.  I cut up the stencil and off she went.

Then the fabric dries for entirely too long according to a child’s time perceptions.

And here comes my part, just in case you thought I am just a lowly photographer in this story, not an actual contributor to beauty and aesthetics. I whipped out the sawing machine and turned the fabric the girls created into aprons. With frills!

I am no great sawing goddess. I dont use patterns and/or plans. It all happens in some sort of a creative mind blur. I have a general idea of what I am trying to do and then hope it works in practice as it perfectly does in my head. It rarely does, but I get close.

And there you have it.

It was so much fun, I want to do it again. But this time I want to be making the printing and designing.

I wonder what can I make out of the fabric…new pants probably?

I decided to show you how cute someone can be eating a piece of nectarine.

So I snapped him.

He saw me.

He did.

He felt my snapping self.

He got all curious.

The fruit lowered down.

The eyebrows went up.

And there was no more eating.

Never mind, I can show you how cute someone can be just, being.
Ignore the black mark on his face, which was a remnant of his parents attempt to test his development.
We marked him and then lifted him up to the mirror to see if he will try to wipe it off..or something.

He was not impressed by the mark.

Ok, so he doesnt know who he is, but we do.

And he is cute eating fruit or not, with random marks on his face or without.

Dont you ever say anything contrary.

Reading the paper the other day, I was reminded of how fucked up the image of a woman is in our society. The story is about a new plastic sek5 ¹ doll. Its in the World section of the paper and amongst stories about Israel, migrant riots in Italy and prisoner abuse in Iran.

What is it, this new invention?

She is a companion. She has a personality. She hears you. She listens to you. She speaks. She feels your touch. She goes to sleep. We are trying to replicate the personality of a person

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What personality are we talking about? Something interesting, I am sure. Some wonderful conversations, late in the night. Right?

cannot walk and its reactions are built into “the three inputs”

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But here is the jest of it, here  is what distinguishes this lump of open inputs plastic from a real woman:

She can’t vacuum, she can’t cook but she can do almost anything else, if you know what I mean

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So there you have it, my lovely sisters.  I hope your vacuuming and cooking is bloody good, because for the starting price of $US7,000 you can be replaced without anyone noticing.

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The following events unfolded about 3 weeks ago…

He is just chilling after lunch in his favorite position – foot on the table, usually placed there with the fanfare and care of a goblet full of liquid gold. Here it is – my foot! Plonk. Stare for reactions of awe in the public.

Looks serious and like some deep thoughts are running through his sweaty head. What are they?…

(Pause for philosophical mind boggles)

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Just kidding!

But seriously,

look what I can do, Mama!

And after you have put water everywhere, tried to eat the table and cooled your hot nether regions,

you follow with a special move, like this:

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I cant believe you just blogged about this!

The other day I took the children to the river for some play around and to catch up with friends. On the way back we planned to visit a favorite cafe of ours and eat the yummo veggie balls they make for lunch.

It was hot, the place doesnt have air conditioning, only a few fans on the ceiling. We huff and puff into the place and I go to make our order. Then plop myself down and hope the lack of movement will cause some cooling of the systems.

- Mom, can I take off my top? – Miss Fab asked matter of factly.

My initial urge was to say no. We are at a public place and we wear clothes here. Its the respectable thing to do.

Its a stupid instinct, this molded by society one that puts other’s needs ahead of your feelings and comfort for things that are not important. So, I was going to make my child stew in a shirt, just because I didnt want to make the other people in the place uncomfortable in some way? Or because I didnt want to be judged as an irresponsible mother for not teaching my children proper manners? Or because I didnt want to be uncomfortable under the supposed glances of some strangers? Was really some unknown person’s opinion of me or my children or their comfort more important than that of one of the  people I love most on this Earth?

How often do we negate our children’s needs for those of people we dont know and will never see again in our lives? Or for our own selfish unreasonable feelings?

- Sure! You can also pour some water on it and put it on your neck.

Then Little B followed and I ate my lunch with two topless girls with wet t-shirts on their neck  and the world didnt end and the people around me didnt faint.

Its all soaked through and worst of all, not any cleaner either. Just wet to the bone.

I had a quick look through it, while paddling on to my bathroom mat. I examined the crime scene very carefully. Something serious had happened here. Not just a simple burst pipe. Oh, no. There were splatters all over the place. The ceiling was not spared, the further corner had some dust bunnies struggling for their lives in the puddle that formed.

The shock. I just couldnt think of what could have possibly caused all this. If we had a hose and a room mate that hated our guts, it could have been an explanation. But I was missing the two important pieces of this solution to solve the mystery at hand.

If Mr.Blab had installed a sprinkler in the middle of the bathroom by mistake, that too could have qualified as a reason. But no, Mr.Blab is not that handy.

If  our little boy’s hand had held the tap while it was running, thus spraying water all over the place, that too might have been a good resolution to this peculiar situation. But that would mean that we stayed around and watched. Maybe even laughed and hid behind towels. Laughed even harder when the forced water would go straight into the face of the full of giddy son of ours. If we were that type of irresponsible people, we could have taken pictures, while trying to protect the flash from the rain that would have inevitably been aimlessly spraying around.  But we are not such folk…

So we will never know what happened to our bathroom.

You agree to be marked by his top and release your parents from all rights to the pictures that follow.

Signed, the Baklava.

I have done sushi before, but it was awhile since I have dived into this particular culinary delight. Until tonight.

As a family we could eat tons of the stuff. Baklava is no different and packs up the pieces one after the other. So it is a good idea to make our own instead of spending piles of money for an already done sushi.

Unfortunately I couldnt quickly get my hands on some roe, which would have made this so much better, but next time I will plan better.

The rice didnt turn out perfect, but the rest was fantastic, if I may say so myself. The piece of salmon was almost $15, but I made some sashimi, some of it I cooked briefly with sesame seeds crust and there was enough to make some nigiri sushi and maki rolls. The rest of the fillings were – chicken, smoked salmon, avocado, cucumber, carrot and sesame seeds. Rough estimates makes this tray about $25, maximum $30. Yummy and sensible.

Next time addition list – fish roe and Japanese mayo, possibly tuna and prawns

The kids have these stainless steel bottles that they use for water in the house. Since they are without any decorations we end up drawing stuff on them from time to time with a permanent marker. Which turns out to not be that permanent, because it rubs off in time. But that is not a bad thing really, as it means diversity of art and opportunity to try new things every time.

The kids started with simple names or letters. Then it grew to drawings. Then we the grown ups started being asked to contribute creative input. It was mostly Mr.Blab’s market. He is the water guy around here. He monitors the water supply in the house and makes sure we have a steady flow of cold water and ice. That entails careful planning and prompt refilling of any empty glass bottles and putting them straight into the shelf of the fridge door – in order – from left to right, right being the coldest. He also keeps a hawk eye on the ice bucket in the freezer. He is able to HEAR the level of the bucket by the sounds we make while getting ice from it! Impressive. Lets just say his job is hard during the summer months, we drink a LOT of water and we are never out. Props.

So, he also usually fills the girls bottles and had taken over the orders for art on the before mentioned water vessels.

But then one day I was asked to do something on the newly cleanly rubbed off metal canvas.  And then again.

This day Little B had her bottle adorned with daddy’s creations. Miss Fab asked me a little bit later.

Mr.Blab saw his business slip right in front of his eyes like the reel of an old movie. There was a bit of moaning, I am sure.

But wait, that is not the end of the story. Even though we could clearly see where the girls get that specific gene from, Little B looked at daddy and said:

- I love yours, daddy! You can do mine any time.

That kind heart they get from him.