In a dim and distant past life I thought it might be a good idea to try to learn a general purpose programming language. Those in the know were keen for me to learn C, on the basis that it’d been around for a while, is easy to learn… and they were using it themselves. But, as it turned out, learning in a vacuum has low appeal for the object-oriented. When pointed at some C tutorials and left to my own devices, I found my interest waned fairly quickly. For best outcomes, I need specific, measurable goals – preferably ones that are useful to me in some way.

Many years later I had another stab at programmery-things, this time to meet a university unit requirement. The goal was to create a little test-website as part of a project, using HTML. There didn’t have to be much content, but it had to be seen to work. This gave me something to aim for and I set to with more enthusiasm than skill. Fortunately I had some in-house tutors in the quirks and mysteries of HTML when the wheels tried to fall off (the project). DaughterDearest and BoyChilde, each computer wizards in their own way, displayed remarkable patience when I yodelled for help with some of my more elaborate errors during the learning phase.

Whilst the programmery-skills I picked up remain in the minor-league, I’ve retained just enough HTML to do some low key fiddling about on a couple of websites I’m contracted to update, although my involvement is largely content management rather than programming of any sort.

One of these sites was set up for a local community centre by a small media company in Perth. Frustratingly, with many of the mysteries of the Joomla set-up and templates restricted, any changes to the site structure currently have to be done by the set-up guy. I find not knowing how it all hangs together or how to change things myself a source of continual low-key irritation. I concluded some time ago that only way I’d be able claim a higher level of website management control would be to learn how Joomla works and then take it from there.

Glyde-In Community Learning Centre has a contract with the same media company and has had similar concerns regards to access to their website. Having come to similar conclusions with regards to site management access, the coordinator decided to organise a couple of Joomla training sessions and invited me to join in. Since Joomla has been on my to-do list for a while, I accepted with alacrity (thanks, Ann).

The sessions were informative, although more an overview than a hands-on. We looked at different levels of access and what they enable people to do on a specific website, recent changes to that website and how they were made, and managing file systems and template structures.Our tutor, Lorenz, was well prepared (always a plus!) and answered our questions clearly, using relevant examples to show what he meant. By the end of the second session I felt a renewed sense of purpose.

It’s pretty clear that if I want to learn anything of substance, I’ll have to get stuck in and poke around in the gubbins  of Joomla, creating and breaking things to see how they work. I’m thinking of mirroring one of the sites I work with regularly to see what happens when I change things. It’s as good a way as any of figuring things out, I reckon, but I’m open to suggestions from those of you who’re already Joomla-savvy.

I’ve taken the first steps by installing Joomla and XAMPP locally, both on my laptop and on my Mac (because, reasons). This took up a large portion of my afternoon yesterday and was intensely frustrating. No doubt you’re thinking, as I did, Ah yesinstallations… that fun-filled circular pastime, abundant with satisfying outcomes… 

joomlaadventures1I am getting there, but must admit to loosing heart to some extent after spending what feels like a ridiculous amount of time on the installation two-step so far. Still, once it’s all installed (!!) and running (!!!), I’ll be able to start playing (theoretically, anyway). Woe betide the offspring if it isn’t working soon – their combined computer-wizardry may be called upon!

I enjoy baking. Well, cooking, really – but baking perhaps a little more than any other option. This was great when the children were young and had troops of ravenous friends stampeding through the house on a regular basis. Cookies, slices, cakes, scones – they all disappeared in record time, consumed by ever-hungry and surprisingly undiscriminating youngsters. Ours was the house where there was always something tasty to eat.

Sadly, these days everyone seems altogether too grown up and concerned with figure shape and weight to make the most of one of my baking frenzies. So I’ve had to devise a cunning plan: I’m baking a little less often and, when I do, I’m making batches of smaller items. That way we (and guests) can enjoy a small tasty treat with our cuppa, and the rest of the bake-a-thon goes into the freezer for another time.

Mini bakes

Mini banana loaves have been a hit, as have these very tasty peanut cookies. Both freeze really well and taste very yummy as a mid-week treat or emergency teatime offering when people drop by unexpectedly. The nutty muesli squares didn’t make it to the freezer, but did provide mini lunchbox treats for Himself for a couple of weeks 🙂

My next foray into mini-bakes is a variation on a recipe I found in a delightful book called Traditional Teatime Recipes. It’s full of simple yet tasty sounding offerings – many of which are now on my list to try out over the next few weeks.

tradional-teatime-recipes

First off the rank is the orange tea bread. The recipe apparently originated at Moseley Old Hall, in Staffordshire. Whilst that’s vaguely interesting, I’m actually making it (today) because it sounds delicious, we have guests this evening (dessert, anyone…?), and I have a fridge full of oranges from our neighbour’s tree.

Here’s the recipe, in case you’d like to give it a go too.

Orange Tea Bread – adapted from Traditional Teatime Recipes

75g butter, softened

1 cup plain flour

1 cup almond meal

1½ tsp baking powder

1 large egg, beaten

cup caster sugar

2 oranges <juice one, zest both – reserve second orange>

50g walnuts, roughly chopped <I used pecans>

1 – 2 Tblsp extra caster sugar  <reserve this for sprinkling on top of the cake>

FIRST: set your oven to 180C  (350F) and prepare a medium sized loaf tin <or, in my case, 6 mini loaf pans>

THEN: rub butter into flour and baking powder, then stir in the sugar and chopped nuts.  Mix in the egg, then add the juice from one of the oranges and the zest from both of them. Beat the mixture well, then fold in the almond meal.

Spoon mix into the prepared loaf tin / mini loaf pans

NEXT: cut the pith off the outside of the remaining orange. Then, holding it over the tin/s <to catch the juice>, carefully remove the segments. Arrange the orange segments over the top of the cake/s, then sprinkle with the extra caster sugar

FINALLY: bake your loaf in preheated oven for about 45 minutues – or until a skewer comes out clean. Leave the cake/s in the pan/s to cool… if you have the patience. Such yum!

MORE NOTES: the original recipe didn’t include almond meal; it called for 1½ cups of plain flour. It also gave the baking time as 1¼ to 1½ hours.

Orange teacake

Does spring seedlings 2016the weather affect you from day to day? I’d guess that, at the very least, your clothing choice depends on the weather to some extent – and perhaps your choice of transport and activities does as well.

I’m certainly more inclined to get stuck into the garden, walk or use public transport in dry weather – and most enthusiastic about it in spring, once the rain’s gone and before the heat starts to bite.

Weather does seem to act as a happiness barometer for most of us. No matter how satisfied we are initially with the changing seasons, we soon start grumping about the temperature (too hot, too cold, too variable), the humidity, the rain (or lack thereof), the wind, etc. It’s an endless source of meaningless background social noise.

Nevertheless, I find that people are generally chirpier on warm, sunny days than on cold, drizzly ones. Perhaps we’re more inclined interact positively with our surroundings and with other folk on pleasantly sunny days, than when it’s very cold (or hot). If this is so, does the weather also affect our levels of altruism?

In November last year I started planning our epic family Xmas gathering. It takes a fair bit of resource management and people wrangling, so I tend to start early to avoid the last minute panic-factor. Then I came across an article on something called the reverse advent calendar. It made me stop and think: about resources, about good fortune, about family – and about the staggering number of people who have so much less.

I discovered that 1 in 200 people in Australia are homeless and that over two million people are dependent on food donations in order to survive. Considering how relatively affluent Australia is, that rocked me rigid.

Donating one food item per day for the advent period (the four weeks leading up to Xmas) sounded like a great idea. It was something simple, tangible and practical that my family could get behind. So I set up a mini food collection programme and, just before Xmas, DaughterDearest and I delivered our combined advent donations to Foodbank.

We all felt a little glow of achievement, of having done something – however small – for people less fortunate than ourselves. It was a good way to start our Xmas celebrations.

But of course people are hungry and homeless all year round, not just at Xmas. So it seemed like a logical next step to set up a quarterly food drive and invite others to join in. A number of people got involved and we’ve made two deliveries of food donations to Foodbank so far this year.

These deliveries are partly what prompted my question, because I delivered 55kg of food on 31 March (a bright sunny day) and 25kg on 30 June (a cold rainy day).

This does seem indicate that people may be more inclined to be generous in good weather. Perhaps it makes us feel cheerful and encourages a more outward focus? Or could it be that, as a community initiative, the food drive really only worked as a one-of?

Either way, we’ve been gradually filling up some boxes and I’ll be heading back out to Foodbank again at on 30 September to deliver our next quarterly contribution. It doesn’t really matter how much food I take along. Every single item will be appreciated by someone, somewhere.

July-September Foodbank collection

If you’d like to get involved in our food drive – even if all you can donate is a single can of beans – let me know. Join our Facebook group to keep track of what’s happening, if you like.

You’re most welcome to pop past our place to drop your contribution off, just ping me to let me know. Stay for a cuppa if you have time 🙂

food appeal poster

pop up choirThis week our local library organised a pop-choir event as part of Adult Learners Week. About a dozen of us congregated in the meeting area at the back of the building, keen to give singing in the library – rather than just borrowing books (etc.) – a whirl.

The branch librarian greeted us all with her usual bubbly enthusiasm, then handed us over to another of the choir master. Brian – a librarian by profession, was wearing his musicians’ hat for the morning. He  was an enthusiastic and gentle instructor, and we set about rocking the library for the next hour or so under his very capable guidance.

We sang what might seem like an odd selection of music, but it was all aimed at being accessible to any level of vocal ability. First up was a simple African spiritual, presumably because none of us would have any preconceptions as to what it would sound like. Brian took us through the verse and the chorus one line at a time, putting the bits together as we gained confidence in the pronunciation, cadence and tune. Then he introduced a second part, a rhythmic dum-dum-da-dum, for the deeper voices, and brought all that together. All enormously good fun.

After that we had a go at Silent Night, The 12 Days of Xmas, a hymn of unknown name (I’ve misplaced the songsheet) and, finally, Take me Home Country Road (John Denver) to end on a jolly note. It was all done A Cappella and, despite the wide variation in voice types and strengths, it sounded great – from where I was sitting at least. I it certainly brought a large number of curious library users down to the back of the library to listen.

On the way home I wondered why I don’t sing more often. I used to… but somewhere along the line I think I may have stopped actively engaging with music. But the act of singing is exhilarating and something that I now realise I’ve missed. My brief session in the library certainly left me feeling happy, with a smile that lasted pretty much all day. I guess that’d be the singing-induced endorphins zipping around in my system.

Whatever it was, I definitely felt more engaged and enthusiastic in general – and was pleased to hear that are plans afoot to run more events of this sort, culminating in a small Xmas concert in the library. In the meantime, the house is once again being subjected to my exceedingly eclectic assortment of music – my more or less tuneful warbling – and my increased happiness-factor 🙂

Our voices have been silent, and it’s not doing us any goodTania de Jong AM.

It’s a funny old thing how, no matter how many things one gets done around the house/property and no matter how happy-making they are, there are always – and I mean always – other things that need doing. Somehow the to-do list seems to magically grow faster than things can get crossed off it.

Endless gardening

This can be overwhelming, to put it mildly, and I’ve seen many people admit defeat and give up. The list wins and becomes the we-won’t-get-to-it list rather than the to-do list.

Recently I reviewed a bunch of stalled-out projects, ones that have either trailed off or somehow haven’t even gotten off the ground. The sheer volume felt a bit depressing, to be honest. I was chatting to DaughterDearest about this last week and she agreed: so much to do, so little time, so much competition for resources. However, she and K have devised a most cunning life hack to help to solve this dilemma.

They each listed every task they could think of – big and small – that needed doing on their property. These ranged from costly tasks, such as installing more water tanks, to time-consuming ones, such contacting the local council to resolve various issues. Then they combined the lists, removed the duplications, and independently ranked each task on their personal perception of its importance (on a scale of 1 to 5).

At the end of this, they conferred and negotiated, then created a master task-list from which to work. No more items will go onto this list for the next 12 months, she said, after which they’ll review and reprioritise. Work has commenced and they’ve already crossed things off their list 🙂

Whilst I applauded the idea – and the progress they’ve made so far – I was feeling listed-out and somehow didn’t see it working for us. Even so, I mentioned it in passing to Himself and – much to my surprise – he thought it was a splendid idea! It’s logical, will clarify what needs doing when, and should provide a workable roadmap, he said.

So over the weekend we listed, compiled, agreed on no more items, prioritised, negotiated – and now have our very own master list. It’s been printed out on an A3 sheet and is up on the whiteboard where we’ll both see it every day: 98 items in total (several of which are sub-tasks of others).

It is a long list and might seem daunting – but it feels good to have sat down together and worked out a plan. We have 12 months in which to conquer as many of the items as possible. Progress is already underway and we’re both keen to move maintain the momentum. Roll on next September and review-time  🙂