Prawn Porn

I should be madly cleaning the house in anticipation of my youngest daughters arrival from Canberra. She’s the Clean Freak, the one who threatened to put me into an aged care facility if I didn’t lift my dusting game. One year she spent Christmas cleaning the grout on my bathroom floor, another was spent vacuuming dog hair out of her sister’s car.

Her cleaning phobia is/was an anxiety issue which seems to have eased now that she has her own home to maintain. In full time employment Cat Balou often bleats over the telephone, “Mo, how do you find the time to wash windows?”

I don’t, but that is no response for a Clean Freak. “Sweetheart, it’s all about priorities”, covers a plethora of circumstances, I have found.

The root cause behind her phobia can be dated back to the breakdown of her parent’s marriage. Fun Time Daddy moved into a sparkling new house with shiny accoutrements including a female play thing whilst Mummy, the Boring Responsible Parent, was ensconced in a sixty year old hardiplank surrounded by thirty year old furniture which had seen kids and pets through too many childhood illnesses to mention. And lets not forget the twenty two carpet snakes living in the roof space………

Several hours have been spent in meal prep however. Canberra is land locked and we are a family with a heritage steeped in seafood so it seemed appropriate to whip up some fruits of the sea. Do you know just how long it takes to remove the poo shute out of three kilos of prawns?

So, the bread is freshly baked, the mango and avocado salad is chilling, and the Tiger Prawns are in the fridge marinating in garlic. You can’t get more Queensland than that. Because said daughter is vegetarian for health reasons I’ve also made individual vegetable bakes. Yes, still playing the Boring Responsible Parent.

Sweets? We don’t do sweets in this family. We’re more cheese platter people.

The bubbles is chilling as is the chardonnay. Sadly, I have found another down side to ageing which means I also have to include a jug of cold water on the dinner table these days. My dear old Dad would be rolling in his grave in disgust.

So no books, no travel, no movies this week. Just some Prawn Porn.

And be careful where you walk, Cat Balou. Those pot plants are bunched in a group in front of the bookshelves for a reason. There are some things no daughter who does not like disorganisation has a business knowing about.

Salute🥂

PS. Another feel good this week:

Saw Keith Urban interviewed . When asked the thing he was most grateful for he stated his ” willingness to pursue curiosity“. Oh, Keith, bliss….

15 thoughts on “Prawn Porn

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