Weather. Cauliflower Cheese. Yoga.

I think I'm turning into one of those dullards who can only ever talk about the weather.  But it's just so damn INTERESTING!  I spend half my life checking the BOM site or looking at the weather app on my phone.  I'm constantly wondering whether to put the baby in a sleeping bag or not, turn his fan on or not, have the window open or not.   My single tip of the cap to living an organised and streamlined existence is to have the clothes I will wear the next day laid out the night before.  Without full knowledge of the weather I am rendered impotent in this most important of activities, and start the day entirely wrong footed!  And my goodness, it's just so mercurial at the moment, if I don't remain on top of all forecasting developments I could make a fatal error of climate-appropriate clothing judgement.  Nothing worse than seeing a poor sap shivering in thongs and shorts in the freezing rain, or a sad creature wearing jeans and boots when all else are living la vida loca in a sundress.  I will not let that be me!

Seasonally appropriate clothes are one thing, but food is definitely something else.  Today was roasting, so naturally I did the obvious thing and slow cooked an enormous lump of corned beef and then made steaming hot cauliflower cheese to go with it.  Yes, the house was beautiful, fresh, breezy and cool after that, I don't think!  I was sweating like a fat man in a sauna when I finally sat down to eat.

Mmmm.  Grey scummy meaty goodness.  As refreshing and invigorating as a spray of Norsca on your pits.

Cauliflower cheese...as cooling as a mint julep on a hot summer's day. Who needs an icy cold jug of Pimms when you can get your laughing gear round this baby? 

Earlier in the day, despite Baby B still suffering from a bit of a cold, we went to P's friend M's 3rd birthday party.  Her mum K went to a lot of trouble and all the small fry were very well behaved.  There was lots of delicious party related food, but naturally I took my own stash of wholesome snacks (celery and cottage cheese) and refused all offers to partake in the sweet or salty, saying "lips that touch fat shall never touch mine", and so forth*.

In other healthy lifestyle moves, I went to yoga again last night.  When I arrived I bailed up the instructor and querulously moaned about my injured foot and how I'd have to take it easy.  She was obviously thinking "Stop your whinging, porky. Drop and give me twenty" because at one point during the class,  she came over and lay on top of me with her full body weight, folding me virtually in half  and forcing my face ever closer to my feet.  All I could think was thank God I hadn't eaten my dinner before I'd left home, because it was curry, and the pressure she was placing on my tummy could have resulted in a highly embarrassing gastro-intestinal incident.  As it was, it merely had the result of forcing all the air in my body out of my mouth in a strangled groan, but it could have been much worse had other orifices been involved.  Ahem.  Still, I have to admit it was strangely exhilarating.

Anyone else got some tips for keeping cool in the heat?  Ever farted in a yoga class? Tell me everything!




*Not really.  I may have stood vulture-like over the party food table, blocking the path of small children and shoveling fairy bread and pikelets into my face at a rate of knots.  When will the madness end?