Land of the free, home of the Brave...Still...

It goes without saying that today was....

And the result was sweet, sweet democracy for another four years. 

I've written and erased about four versions of what I'm trying to say, the result is this: I love my country. I love the opportunities growing up in my country afforded me. I love the diversity that exists in such a large nation. I love that most people don't have passports, because two weeks is just enough time to pile the family in the mini-van and drive to Yellowstone. 

There are daily reminders for how incredibly lucky I am to have lived in not just one, but THREE very wealthy, healthy and safe nations. Most of them come from my clients, mostly fleeing their home countries in pursuit of something better. Many have faced persecution for their beliefs, without ever having done anything wrong. As an ex-colleague put it, in the welfare sector, when do you have a chance to work with single men that haven't committed an offense of some kind? Sadly, the answer is not often. I could go on, but can't imagine my employer would be too chuffed. I am grateful for the opportunity to be a part of this something better. 

In an attempt to educate myself further about Australian history, I am brushing up on my Aboriginal knowledge. For those of you interested, My Place by Sally Morgan is a good beginning. Follow the Rabbit-Proof Fence by Doris Pilkington was recommended by MacBoyfriend. These are both incredible Aboriginal stories born out of the European settlement of Australia. My Place made me teary-eyed on the train on more than one occasion, and Follow the Rabbit-Proof Fence has taken me under three days to finish. 

Most of the times I fly home, I am greeted at customs with a 'welcome home.' And I'm not ashamed to say that this makes me a little nostalgic. For that passport that is stamped with enthusiasm at each border, I am incredibly thankful.

Gettin' outta Dodge...

Everyone once in awhile I get an an urge to leave Sydney. It creeps up slowly, worming it's way into the monotony of daily commuting on public transport or the inevitable weekly run to the grocery store. Or sometimes it's blatantly staring you straight in the face. Before you know it you're all buckled up in the car without the vaguest idea of which direction you're going. Despite being regularly ranked among the top cities in the world, it leaves a few things to be desired. Such as you ask? Well, in no particular order....

1) Traffic. It's shocking. My favourite is checking out the rear view mirror after sailing through a yellow-turning-red light and seeing three other cars do the same.

2) 'Late night' shopping. You only get one night? I'm American. I'm used to stores staying open til anywhere up to 10 p.m.

3) Fashion. As much as Sydneysiders embrace that easy-breezy-beautiful style, the clothes are getting smaller and smaller. Which means you see more and more of 'what momma gave you.' It's just offensive.

4) Birds. This is oddly one of the things I have a VERY love-hate relationship with at the moment. I love the cockatoos and kookaburra. I love the lorikeets. I DO NOT love the incredibly loud, persistent and consistent bird outside my window at 4.30--5.30 a.m. EVERY. MORNING. I am currently hatching a plan to take this sucker down. I called a bird helpline today (yes, they do exist), and the kind gentlemen sympathized and then told me how he used a pile of rocks to deal with a VERY similar situation. This is definitely numero uno on my list at the moment.

For this and less interesting reasons, we decided to escape to the Hunter Valley, which is wine country 2 hours north of Sydney. It was devine.

We kangroo-spotted and drank some tasty libations. We had a lovely, boozey lunch at little place that just down right stole my heart. Black Creek Farm. If you're in the area, head that way.

We had some tasty Allandale vino, to accompany our starter of mussels with chili and main of salad with braised beef shin. There's a before and after for your viewing pleasure.

It was falling apart delicious. Dessert was tempting, but we decided on a few coffees with a 'tea box' of Lamingtons, biscotti and chocolate truffles. Perfect. We ended the day with a wine tasting at Gundog Estate, which turned into a beer tasting. We hit a few other of the favourite cellar doors and headed home relaxed and stocked up on wine for Thanksgiving!

And I remembered that though there are things Sydney could do better, there's a lot that Australia does quite well. Like wine. Like good, slow-cooked, locally prepared food. Like lazy spring morning. Like a nice latte.

So for the chance to live in this sunburnt country, I am very grateful indeed.

Wontons

As I type on this slightly chilly but otherwise perfect spring evening, there is a cauliflower/broccoli/cheese getting to the right stage of goldeny goodness and slow-cooked lamb shanks in their parchment parcels awaiting my dinner table. MacBoyfriend is at the neighbours playing Mario Kart (yup, you read that right. They even have the blow-up carts and all), so will retrieve him momentarily. Until them, the complex can enjoy their laughter and that music that plays every time someone gets a coin/star/whatever.

We have returned from the Hunter Valley today, and that in itself will make for some excellent blogging. It's a wonderful place, and if you have the chance, GO! DRINK! EAT! BE MERRY! And look for kangaroos.

But first, my long-overdue post on wontons  Yes, wontons. Homemade-filling-wrapped-in-a-tasty-wrapper wontons. Hong Kong neighbour was making them last weekend and I joined for a 'break' (read: procrastinating) from filling out a job application. Here are a few pictures of the treats that are now cozied away in the freezer just waiting for that weeknight no one wants to cook. They are pretty self-explanatory, but I will lay claim that Hong Kong neighbour is responsible for the very attractively constructed final photo of the wontons in all their glory. For this (and other delicious morsels), I am thankful.