The best pickles in the world

Hello friends!

It’s Friday today and I’m all out of puff. So you’re not getting much today. But what you are getting, is a picture of Tutti holding two tins of the very best and most delicious pickles in the world.


Now you could call me biased, because these pickles are made by my cousins on Kibbutz Yavne in Israel, who, in addition to their pickling-prowess are a talented bunch (inspirational speakers, teachers, children’s fashion designers, pottery geniuses and artists among them). Except that I am actually* a pickle connoisseur. I love pickles. I could chain-crunch through an entire jar of pickles, in one sitting, and I can guarantee that these are the best.

If you’re lucky, you can find these crunchy morsels of delight in your local supermarket Kosher aisle.

*not actually.


Christmas Present Inspiration

If there’s one thing I really love, it’s looking at beautiful, interesting things. Especially beautiful, interesting, quirky things that have been made by creative, talented people. So, I was in my element on Wednesday night at the launch of the Etsy pop-up store at 74 Castlereigh Street, Sydney.
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Tutti vs The Goat

Here is a picture of Tutti, 36 years ago, on the day she met her mother-in-law for the very first time.

First impressions were good. The Goat was sweet and kind and polite and well-presented and very attractive.

Never in a million years would Tutti have imagined that only a few years later, post-marriage to The Guru, after the Goat had spilled one too many cups of tea on the couch (as she regularly waited to be waited on after Tutti’s 10-hour-days working in retail) and made one too many judgmental sharp intakes of breath every time Tutti swore (which was often, since The Guru taught her to say the f-word. “Say ‘F'”, he would encourage, laughing. “Say, ‘Uck'”) that she would be screaming every expletive she could think of in The Goat’s face, with her fairly limited expletive-vocabulary.

“Oh shit,” said Tutti, as she spilt some tea on the already tea-stained green foam couch.

 “Tsk,” tsked The Goat, judgmentally, passive-aggressively. “Disgusting language.”

Tutti had reached her limit.

“AAAAARGH!” Shrieked Tutti, doing her best impression of a Pterodactyl.  “In MY house, I will say what I want. Shit! Bum! Wee! Fuck!”

It was a slippery slope, for Tutti and The Goat.


What Tutti Wore…

To drink a cup of tea. English Breakfast with milk and one sugar. I’ve tried to wean her off the one sugar but she whines like a small dog until I give in.

And that’s it for today!

I’ve decided to scale back my posts to three times a week (Monday, Wednesday and Friday) because I’m finding five a week just a little bit ambitious when I also have a full-time job, a social life and too many episodes of Dexter / True Blood / Please, Marry My Boy to watch (and maybe, just maybe, I will finally commit myself to Breaking Bad, despite watching three episodes about six months ago and not really enjoying them). Plus, quality, not quantity, right?


‘Til Wednesday folks!

Thanks for reading.