Don't panic

Just because you're getting married in 5 weeks and have suddenly lost your presiding minister doesn't mean everything's going to hell in a handbasket. I mean, how bad can it be?...right?

On a brighter note, the calender may say it's still summer, but the weather knows better. On what really should be the 1st march, the first of Autumn, the mountains have laid on a spectacular Autumn day.
The air is crisp and cool, the light has taken on the curious gentleness that comes with the dying seasons and a light breeze plays in the treetops. If it weren't for a fairly major stress attack, I would be a very happy girl indeed.
Of course, it is expectations that are making me stressed. I have a perfectly jolly alternative to a minister. My gorgeous uncle is also a celebrant.
He is happy to officiate at my wedding, but Mr is petrified of breaking that particular piece of news to his fundamental pentecostal parents. My uncle is a very dignified, erudite, literary man with more than a little experience in inter-religious dialogue and spirituality, particularly for those of us that were raised in the conventional church but found it somehow 'wanting'.
He is, actually, the perfect choice. There probably isn't another celebrant out there who would understand my particular brand of spirituality as well as my uncle. To boot, he is an animal lover and a vegan.
The problem with Mr's parents is that my uncle was recently married himself....to a man. (Overseas of course, he had the good sense to move to a country that actually thinks).

I'm sure this will resolve itself in some manner, but meanwhile I'm just a little bit beside myself. We do know a few people high up in the Navy, but apparently standing in buckets of water doesn't count as 'at sea'.

Why are people so damned difficult? Why do I care? I should just embrace my inner bridezilla and do exactly as I please. What would please me is a simple ceremony packed with wonderful poetry, a hint of medieval wedding ceremony (complete with beautiful words like 'troth') and a relaxed picnic in the glades.

I am dreading tonight. I rather suspect that this will turn into an 'incident' of the Family variety.

Green is also good

Pilaf obsession central. All out, all change.

I made another one from the same book. This one is called 'Green Pilaf' and uses brown rice, fennel seeds, cashew nuts, lemon juice and baby spinach leaves.

Spectacular stuff! And (drumroll)..no fat! that's right, none. Nada, Zip.

Just before serving you fold through fresh mint and continental parsley which really lifts it and gives it that marvellous 'green' taste (I should have said 'primavera'...it sounds so much more chef-y).

You could evil it up with butter etc, but the point of this one is that great, fresh, lemony, herby zing. Cheese and/or butter would make it too rich methinks. Having said that, half the point of food is to experiment, so please do if you need to.

I only did it for the photo....honestly

I was so disappointed in the photo I took yesterday that I had just had to make more pilaf today. It has nothing to do with my addiction to the stuff d'you hear me? nothing. Today I used shallotts instead of brown onions though and added a fairly massive handful of nutritional yeast (to make it more cheesy). Typing now with left hand, fork in right hand and half the bowl you see above gone.

Tempted yet?

Description
At 58 - 65 cm, the Channel-billed Cuckoo is the largest parasitic cuckoo in the world. Apart from its large size, its massive pale, down-curved bill, grey plumage (darker on the back and wings) and long barred tail, make it impossible to confuse it with any other bird. In flight the long tail and long wings give the bird a crucifix-shaped silhouette. The call of the Channel-billed Cuckoo, a loud 'kawk' followed by a more rapid, and weaker 'awk-awk-awk...', is as distinctive as the bird's appearance. The call may be given when perched, but is most often given in flight.

Young Channel-billed Cuckoos have more mottled buff, brown and grey plumage. (I definately saw a young one then..:-)

Distribution and Habitat
The Channel-billed Cuckoo migrates to Australia from New Guinea and Indonesia between August and October each year. It is found in tall open forests, in northern and eastern Australia, usually where host species occur. The birds leave Australia in February or March. (That makes me doubly fortunate to have seen him,-he'll be back across the ocean anytime now....:-)

Food and feeding
The favoured foods of the Channel-billed Cuckoo are native figs and native fruits, though some seeds, insects and even baby birds are also taken. The birds take figs from the tree with their massive bills.

"You're such a fascist Neil..."

Lentils will always and forever remind me of "The Young Ones". I adored Neil completely. I even went as far as to buy 'Neil's Heavy Concept album' on LP (which I have since lost....tears are flowing). Neil's lentils were boiled or burned but his big hippy heart was in the right place.

I like to think that the following recipe (which is Ohmigod-delicious) is where Neil's culinary endeavours may have led him. It seems really complicated but make it once and you'll have it memorized for next time. I apologise for the less-than-spectacular photo but I forgot to take one until after dinner,-as a result, all you're getting is a photo of the leftovers in Mr's lunchbox for tomorrow:)

Oops, and a blurry one at that! However, I really must share this with all intrepid cooks out there. It's really a two-part endeavour. Part 1 is an onion and vegan parmesan pilaf, and part 2 in the lentil bhuja. Here we go with part 1;

Vegan Onion and Parmesan Pilaf


1 1/2 brown onions finely chopped
2 cloves fresh garlic, crushed or finely chopped.
60 g lite Nuttelex
1 cup basmati rice
2 cups stock (I use MASSEL chicken stock)
1/2 cup vegan parmesan*
3/4 cup frozen peas
1/4 tsp salt
freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup chopped fresh continental parsley

(1) Fry off onions and garlic in nuttelex over medium heat until golden, add rice and stock
(2) Bring to boil the reduce to a simmer for 10 mins until most liquid is absorbed
(3) Add peas and vegan parmesan, simmer until all liquid is full absorbed
(4) Season to taste
(5) Fork through fresh parsley.

Lentil Bhuja

Balls
1 cup green lentils well-cooked
1 1/2 onions grated
1 medium potato grated
1 tsp tumeric
1 tsp ground coriander
1 tsp ground cumin
1/2 cup plain flour

Mix well in a large ball and form into walnut-sized balls. Refrigerate on a foil-lined tray for 1/2 hour and then fry in 1/4 inch of oil in a heavy based pan until golden. Drain on paper towelling.

Sauce
1 can crushed tomatoes
2 cloves garlic crushed or finely chopped
1 inch ginger grated
1 tsp olive oil
1/2 cup passata
1/2 cup Massel chicken stock
1/2 cup Soy Milk
Salt and pepper to taste.
2 carrots sliced finely
2 cups green beans (or snake beans) topped and tailed and halved.

(1) Fry off garlic and ginger til fragrant and add all other ingredients bar veges
(2) Bring to the boil and then simmer for 10 minutes
(3) Add lentil balls and veges and simmer gently (covered) for about 35 minutes

There you go. Do yourself and your wee tastebuds a huge favour and give this one a go.

* Vegan parmesan can either be bought ready-made at health food stores or made ;

1/2 cup nutritional yeast flakes
1/2 cup ground almonds
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp onion powder
1/4 tsp garlic powder

Just bung the lot in the food processor and pulse into fine crumbs. Store in an airtight container and use as you would powdered parmesan (I'm still working on a version I can shave and/or melt!)

Oh yes, I should mention, if you need more carbs (and who would?) You could serve this with pita bread. And if you need more artistry you could find a cilantro or coriander sprig to do suitably artistic things with.

The sad part of today: On my walk to Lawson (1/2 hr-good girl) I came across a beautiful dark brown wallaby that had been hit by a car. At least they had the decency to drag the body off the highway I guess. He looked very much as he did in life, so it must have been recent. Poor baby.
The bright part of today: Waiting at the shops for Mr (who drove down to meet me) I heard a constant caterwauling. At first I thought it was a child, but then realised it was a bird,-but not any bird I had ever heard before. Myself, a concreter and a random woman shopper went searching for the progenitor of all the fuss. The concreter assured me that it was a young Cuckoo. It had the body of a Kookaburra, the head of an albino raven and the beak and talons of an eagle and lordy was he kicking up a fuss about something. The surprisingly knowledgeable concreter talked up at him with such profundities as 'Hey! Stop your fussin' mate, it's just a storm!'. I thought it was kind of sweet that he talked to animals. Apparently he is originally a native of indonesia (the bird, not the concreter). They like cicadas for breakfast and (apparently) get quite vocally worried about approaching storms. It was a very sweet highlight to my day.

Here we go round the mulberry bush...

Why? Why does a man feel it necessary to encourage the degradation and exploitation of women by watching porn? Why are they incapable of thinking beyond their navels? Why can otherwise intelligent men not see that porn encourages the distance between men and women by perpetuating a dominant/subservient paradigm that most women abhore and resent?
They say women are dichotomous creatures (well, those that like to use simplistic reasoning anyway...)! They say sweet things and behave as though butter wouldn't melt in their ever-lovin' mouths and then watch women being systematically degraded and ridiculed for pleasure.
There is nothing on this planet less attractive than a man who has cheap little porn fantasies running around his pathetic mind. Puhleease, it isn't even vaguely creative for Chrissakes. No wonder 9 out of 10 women only orgasm by their own administrations. The gulf widens, the industry thrives and bluestockings turn in their graves. That's right girls, 'twas all for naught. The cave-man instinct reigns supreme and the supposedly educated 21st century man is a facade.

He he

I love my maid-of-honour. She is simply brilliant. She has come up with the perfect outfit for the wedding ,-one that is beautiful, elegant, pagan-esque and guaranteed to make those fond of straight-lacing gasp. All in all, a much desired outcome:-)

Marvellous forest hair-extensions (we have to cover up her current 'pink). I love these to bits.

I know, I know, it was a teeny-tiny image, but you get the idea. Peacock saree and fabulous hair-extensions and both of us barefoot and hennaed. Whoohoo:-)
See, now I'm having fun which was the whole bleedin' point!
Good thing Lydgate will be there as best man, we may have a couple of PACE calls when various in-laws behold the bridal party....he he

By degrees

Things feel a little better I think. That or I'm so used to feeling panicked it has become a norm. I have launched myself body and soul into quilting and teaching and studying and cleaning my very very nasty house. Doing something,anything, is a very good way to stave off anxiety.

I have found some new inspirations for my fabric affairs and am champing at the bit to get started on them. Mind you, I still don't know how to 'quilt' (the teacher didn't tell me last saturday). I can design and sew fabrics together in any manner of exciting patterns but it's putting the quilty stuff in and doing the backing/sashing/binding etc. This is what I need to know. I'm a little tetchy that I paid for the class and wasn't immediately told everything I need to know.

Well, lovely lovely day to myself today. This means I get to enjoy leisurely breakfast (achieved), surf a little (doing), sew more rows onto mum's colourwash quilt, design the herbal applique that will be added to her quilt, border Tiger's quilt, clean kitchen, bathroom and bedrooms and cook steamed veges and gravy for dinner. I know I haven't mentioned gardening in a while but that's because the grass needs mowing and is long and itchy and full of spiders that are out to get me. When Mr takes care of the lawn I will go out and remedy certain desperate situations, but not before.

To help all this along I am listening to a gorgeous CD of 16th and 17th C galliards etc that mum bought me as a surprise pressie. It is so very jolly! Perfect music to play while guests are milling before the wedding.


I only wish I had alread made and mastered the 'Audrey-Dress'. Then I would have the whole shebang. Oh lord of dressmakers, please send me the confidence to try this dress-pattern out? I really want it very badly.

Grate Expectations

Analyse this.

Fear and panic stopped me going to work today. Fear and panic have made me throw up breakfast and lunch. I have forgotten my diaphragm and am shallow breathing rather too rapidly.

I have had 32 years to get acquainted with myself and now I seem to be unravelling like an old cardigan. There is a great beast with its jaws wide open and i am stepping into the gaping maw in a pretty dress.

I will be chewed up and digested and emerge as someone I do not recognise and never wanted to be. People are going to own pieces of me. Expectations will increase.

It's amusing that the 'Labels for this post' suggestions are 'scooters, vacation, fall'.

My stomach has turned into a cramping maze of jagged points and my blood ooozes thickly and sluggishly through narrowed arteries. I have looked all morning but I can't find myself. In the mirror this morning someone who looks like me gazed back with a stranger's eyes.

People keep wanting me to crackle like sparklers at a party and I'm tired. I wish to be cool and quiet and grey. 'Sliding Doors' and its various universes is playing on repeat reel in my short-circuiting brain.

My parents are worried. They have doubts. This is not helping matters. I have always trusted their judgement implicitly.

I have a desperate urge to remove the white-gold band of ownership, sell it and volunteer on the Sea Shepherd for the next 12 months. I wish it would all go away, I wish to start again with a new pattern.

It's not "How exciting!", it's not a time of joy and delicious anticipation. The pieces of this puzzle just refuse to fit. Maybe some of them are from a different puzzle. What and where is the other puzzle? Should I be doing that one?

I keep matching 'Bride and Debride' in my mind as synonyms.

I have analysed the elements of this painting and they all seem to fit. There's just something wrong that I can't place. I could just whitewash the whole thing and start again. I could store it in a dark room somewhere and try looking again at a later date. This option screams 'Dorian Grey'.

You know what I'm doing tonight? -comforting a friend whose marriage has just ended.

Roses and Hearts

I really really dislike Valentine's day. I mean really. It makes me ill to consider the huge amounts of money spent by couples and singles who have been told by the retail monsters of our world that this day is one in which love is to be measured directly by financial outlay.

Yeuch.
It will be an astonishingly normal day for me I'm afraid. I'm cleaning the cottage (it looks alot like a fabric sweat-shop), cooking a curry for dinner and then popping down to work.
This post is my only nod to Valentine's day. And it is such a wee nod, it may look like I'm just stretching...




I've been keeping myself busy though. I have completed the squares for my first Rainbow quilt and am now in a quandry as to which small human will get the first one. I am also (much to my own amusement) going to a quilting class on Saturday morning. Having looked about I have concluded that my imagination is adequate but tht my technique is woefully inadequate. So the Singer and I will go and make some new friends and try to figure all this out.

I also bought some gorgeous asian brocade fabrics in various reds and blues, having always wanted to have a bedpsread of brocade. I started on one for Mr last night and discovered that brocade is a very tricky fabric indeed. Slippery and willful. I hope the grand dames of quilting have some advice for me on this one. I will be very disappointed if I can't have my blue brocade bedspread.

Here's a couple of the wonky red ones I attempted last night. True quilters may want to turn away. I am certain that these are a travesty.

Harrumph.

I also received the 'Wedding Service' outline from our minister today and this has sent me back into panic mode. Having just had a few days of it though, I am better able to deal with the rising panic. It's become quite the familiar friend. It feels terrible though that everyone is more excited than me. My life will not change immensely you see. Everything will be pretty much the same except for my legal marital status. The house will still be a pig-sty on a regular basis, I will still spend the vast majority of my life broke, Mr will still snore like an express train, I will have to clean the toilet, b;ah blah. I will have another expensive piece of jewellery on my hand but that's not something I crave. Even my name will not change (although that is a matter of choice:-). One wonders exactly why we're spending this amount of money...

Weary of Connundrums

I will now sleep for days. In fact, I have little reason to wake. Fear not. I am not suicidal. I am not nearly brave enough for such an endeavour.
I wish only for some peace from this clamour that is my life.

Coulda, woulda shoulda....

I probably shoudlnt' be writing this for the world to see, but blogging has become my new diary. So...here's the thing, -he's left me twice. Neither of them had anything to do with me, per se. Simply, both times have been because something else was more attractive at the time.
2 months out from our wedding I am terrified. I either choose to place complete trust in this man, or I run away. To avoid future heartache, it would be sensible to do just that.
He is so wonderful to me in so many ways. He sews with me, enthuses with me, takes care of me, purports to 'Love' me. He gardens in the rain, he cooks when I don't have the energy, he pays the rent, he 'keeps' me to all intents and purposes.
And yet, I know how quickly these considerations fade for him.
It is Crunch time and everything fades to shades of grey.
It is very tempting to become the 'old me'; lonely? certainly, but with a suit of armour that will see me through anything.
It doesn't help that I just watched 'Droughtbreaker'. There she was. The beautiful, tiny thing that took him away. He lifted her as though she were a feather. Contrast this with both Mr and Lydgate trying to lift me a couple of weeks ago.
(a) it took TWO of them
(b) there was no dignity involved...nor lust, nor wanting, nor...anything that makes a woman feel she is special. Just a rather heavy piece of meat that can be laughed at.
And was.
Am I now (by default) Wife, Mother, Carer, Supporter?
I want to run and run and run and disappear into myself. I don't trust the 'truth' of this situation. I have always trusted. I have always been betrayed. This statistic is not one I should ignore. I don't want to look back on these days/months/years and know myself as a fool.
I think I am coming to a decision that will annoy a great many people.
'But your last posts have been so positive Cath! You describe domestic bliss with an ingenuity that screams genuine!!'
Yes indeed, we quilt, we entertain friends, we put on shows for the AF (ironic), we espouse, proselityze and follow a fairly rigorous animal rights lifestyle.
I hear the multitudes screaming 'It's just COLD FEET'. I hear you and I raise you one soul, in great danger of being annihilated by expectation, security and fear.

Something old, something new...

It's been a busy and crazy couple of days. After a lovely family lunch on sunday, Mr and I dropped by Lincraft on our way home to pick up 'a few things'. $240 later we were holed up in the cottage planning wondrous things (including the spending of similar amounts in the near future).

We met our new niece Amaya at the lunch and this sparked three new projects.

Rainbow quilts for Charlie, Amaya and the Tiger-Muffin. I've been busy cutting strips all day and now have an almost complete first quilt. This set me to thinking though that Elissa could do with a nice quilt too, but as she's getting on (could be three sometime soon:-) she may need a slightly 'older' quilt. I'm going to do her a colour wash in 'Blush and Bashful' (pink and pink), with a more 'antique' feel. All this has come about (by the way) because I've finally learned how to use a sewing machine. This is no small thing. I've been frightened of them since a brief and stunted effort in Home Economics in year 7. Bless Mr for his patience and belief that I can master anything at all.

I've also begun to make inroads on Mums 'colour-wash quilt', some rows are sewn, but (surprise, surprise) I need to buy more fabric. My Greens are woefully inadequate. Then there's the 'Browns' corner and the 'reds' corner....(sigh) I think we're off to the fabric Mecca that is Cabrammata on Saturday to remedy this situation.

Most importantly, we've finished dad's birthday quilt! It is backed, has had studs sewn in by Mr and just needs to be wrapped and presented on March 13th. Of course, as my 'First Quilt', it has numerous and shocking faults, but was made with the best of intentions:-) I only hope dad actually likes it... Never mind, if he hates it completely I'll just make him another (in half the time, now that I'm not scared of the blinkin' sewing machine!)

Detail applique on bottom right corner

And, to put the proverbial cherry on it all, PROOF that Mr is the king of the Singer....

I'll be back soon to bore everyone further with my quilting obsession. I do promise to be obsessed with new recipes sometime in the near future too though (Lydgate, I know you're scared that your weekends will be fabric nightmares).

Must be due

Must be. I looked at the kitchen mess this morning and welled up with tears. I am in quite a state of anxiety. I'm not sure exactly why, and that makes me even more anxious.
Something is up when I don't want to cook, I can't bring myself to clean and the thought of teaching fills me with a pale panic.
Poor Mr will get home from school today and find a less-than comfortable nest. I just can't do it.
I was going to do a great number of wonderful things this morning but a big nasty fog has settled on my will and my mind has turned into fragile glass.
I have to go and put makeup on and will myself to the train station. I am frightened of the world today. Fear itself is a very big thing to fear. It has no boundaries and can swallow you up in seconds.
Is this a fabled 'anxiety attack'? I didn't think I was susceptible to those. This is one day that I'm not at all grateful to learn something new about myself. Yesterday's Cath was a much better thing. Rewind please.

Sneak preview for my own satisfaction

Scarlet runner beans

Triamble pumpkin

Ancient gourds

Golden nugget pumpkin

Collard greens

Celery

Brussels sprouts

Apple cucumbers

presents for good girls:-)

I was spoiled a little (a lot) yesterday. Mr had money for a change, and as usual, it began to smoulder in his pocket rather rapidly. This is not always a good thing, but if it happens to coincide with him feeling all squidgy about me then wondrous things can happen.



We popped up to Katoomba to replenish our very sad pantry and fridge and joined up with the Katoomba Food Co-Op. This shop is like Nirvana for me. I had to buy agar powder for the Vegan fetta anyway, but there's no harm in browsing is there?






By the way, agar powder is $144/kilo. This makes vegan cheeses very very special indeed. Mr's face went quite grey when he saw the price on the jar...






However, opposite the shelf with the expensive powdered stuff were the racks of seeds. My little heart all a-flutter I 'oohed' and'aahed' and generally made quite a fuss about the wondrous variety available. I was particularly excited to find Collard Greens seeds. So, I guess a tsunami-sized wave of largesse swept over Mr's brain because I got pressies!!!

Hmmm, I have no idea why that came up upside down. Computer pixies I expect. For those who don't like to read upside down we have ancient gourd, Collards champion, Long island Brussels sprouts, golden nugget pumpkin and Triamble pumpkin. This last one has me fascinated as it is described as

'Spreading variety with distinctive triangular shaped fruit and a sweet orange flesh'

I just need to see a triangular pumpkin before I die. Although I may die from over-anticipation in the mean time. At the counter a beautiful and friendly lass showed us a new book written by local mountains author Angela Stafford called (appropriately enough) http://www.wildmorsels.com/ Wild Morsels.

I was so excited by this one that I tried reading it on the car on the way home. bad idea. I got quite car-sick. But to all vegans out there, and all those that know a few of us, I highly recommend this book. It is beautifully produced, the recipes are mouth-watering and the talented Ms Stafford has illustrated throughout with the most charming sketches. The opening pages are also full of practical advice on bean prep, grain prep and other tricksy things that vegans often learn through trial and error but that seem unreasonably complicated and therefore off-putting to those trying to cook for us. When my pay-check comes in I'll be going back to buy some more copies as Christmas presents.

Mr (of course) quickly recommended that i write my own cookbook and distribute it in a similar manner. Chuckle. Gotta love his loyalty and enthusiasm. I pointed out that although my cooking is generally palatable, I rarely (if ever) follow recipes, I always make far too much food (i.e. if I say a meal serves two, you can safely bet on 5) and I don't think I have the patience to go through the process that is writing, illustrating, publishing and distributing a book. Maybe when I retire...Anyway Jamie Oliver stole my book idea (shyeah...right). I had planned a hand-written and illustrated book detailing growing-tips and gardening details as well as recipes dotted with photos from my abundant organic garden.

Rainy days and mondays never get me down, especially in combination

So, it's this kind of a day.

My favourite:-) So, despite feeling somewhat 'under the weather' there are things that just must be done on days like today.

Firstly, I will mention the fact that I resume the music teaching term this afternoon, so it is imperative that I fit fun, indulgent, creative stuff in this morning (obviously)...

Sleep in. When you wake, don't bolt out of bed, just lie around listening to the rain and the purring meow for a while. Let your brain wander dozily in and through as many fantasy-scapes as you feel necessary. Stretch your limbs lazily, take time to admire your legs and the curve of your hip. Search for pictures in the bizarre grain of old wooden wardrobe. I found a geisha leaning over to look at something and a renaissance woman in outlined portrait as well as a shocked teddy bear.

Allow rumbling tummy and taste buds to dictate breakfast options.

Vegan breakfast Pizza. God bless super-melting cheezely, seitan 'salami' and smoked paprika. At this stage one is to avoid any nagging feelings of guilt regarding fat-content of breakfast. One can go back to porridge, fruit and soymilk tomorrow.

Lay out Dad's quilt, which is actually beginning to look like a quilt and ponder the chocolate sashing. Does it need embroidery or is the centre design busy enough? Would random applique patches work? Allow these thoughts to simmer on a low rolling boil whilst you pop off to the kitchen to cut up Vegan fetta that you made yesterday.

This is at the 'raw' stage. Boil up some brine , pour it over your cubes and allow to sit in the fridge for a couple of days. keep checking the level of saltiness until you are happy with the flavour. Drain cubes of brine and repack bottle with rosemary, garlic cloves and red chilli and oil. Use at will.

Ponder Bryanna Grogan's brilliance at coming up with recipe. Think happy thoughts about the Greek Salads you will now be able to indulge in once more. Resolve to serve said salad to Lydgate at first available opportunity with fresh oven-warmed sourdough.

Having indulged in creativity for a couple of hours, bite the bullet and do the washing up and the vacuuming and give the loo a scrub. Apply makeup, whip up a fried rice for dinner tonight and trot off to teach.

Preparations

Harumph and Boo. I've been busy making crimson velvet vegan cupcakes, a 'practise run' for the wedding if you like. The only problem being that they're velvet, but not particularly crimson. I used what I thought was a pretty generous amount of red food colouring too.

What is it with me and baking? I can cook just about anything but ask me to add sugar and flour and it all ends up in a great state of 'almostness'. I mean, they're edible, just not cupcakes too 'coo' over (and if you don't coo,-what's the point really?).

Decorated in desperation with hazelnut leaves, wild strawberries, pineapple sage and yarrow flowers.

Now I feel like this

Genuinely unimpressed in general.
Humph.