The nights draw in again, closer, close; the cold bites and Hōngongoi is on us again. This is the best word for the middle of winter, hands down. I know we have Maorish fatigue, however, I think this is as good as schadenfreude and kuchisabishii: burnt knees. July is the middle winter month and even though the days are infinitesimally getting lighter and longer, the cold bites deeper, hence the huddling around the fire #BackintheDay for the heat and ending up with…
That’s right - burnt knees. There’s all this mystical attribution going on about Maoritanga and what happened at this time of year in our history. It’s now got a name so let’s celebrate it that way again re-interpreted by the iwi today - the grift is in, money to celebrate a made up belief system…but in no way must we discuss the increasing poverty and baby killing and homelessness of Maori and the negative statistics we feature in regularly and only ask a Maori their iwi if they’ve done something positive and here’s a name for a building/enterprise/government department that’ll be $45k (or more) thank you nga mihi what money to the gangs what are you on about Labour didn’t hand over millions to the gangs while in office and no, Ingrid Leary did NOT mistake the gang gathering for a Labour meeting yet she was found there somehow still but don’t look at that either or all the other grift and racism or the Maori telling their staff to tick two boxes TPM even though illegal while guilty pakeha white saviour have inserted themselves into the grievance gravy train and on and on and on it goes and holy fuck yes it just means burnt knees. No more virtue signals while our country is in such a dark place, thanks.
I’ve had a lovely Saturday: to market for my veg, shop then home to make pumpkin soup. It’s expensive to put the oven on for roasting just one pumpkin so if I’m using my oven I try to make 2-3 things to maximise use, but today I tried another method. I peeled/seeded the pumpkin and cut it into wedges. I heat my cast iron before use. Put olive oil in my cast iron pan and pan fried them over a moderate heat for 10 min, turning once or twice. Some stuck so I scraped it to the side, added onion chunks among that 20 min. Halfway through herbs/spices of choice and chopped bacon was added; the liquid that came off deglazed my pan as it cooked. I bunged it all into my slow cooker with a chicken stock I’d made a day or so before. Seasoned then stick blended to smooth.
The rain has been so fierce recently - I have seedlings to plant out and haven’t because they didn’t come with snorkels. I’m hopeful tomorrow will have allowed the beds to recover from this recent deluge: I have perpetual spinach, leeks, mesclun salad to prick out. I put freckled cos in last week along with some sweet peas, peas and coriander; sweet peas draw the bees - they’re so worth trying to get started and away early in the random good spells winter sometimes brings. My bulbs are in and some have sprouted; the strawberry slips I took have taken; my winter garden is slow but steady. I enjoy this time inside, hunkered down in front of the fire, so to speak. Knowing that even while winter rages seemingly without end, the garden is slowly coming to life as the day stitches on mere seconds of light at each end. Each day gradually, almost invisbly, grows lighter and lighter until one morning, you know you’re on the downhill slide to spring. Soon, but not yet!
I’m reading, weaving, cooking, exercising. I’m very slow because of my injuries and former lifetime of treating my body like an amusement park instead of a temple. I’m grateful to be able to get in the pool and move. NOW my body’s like a temple: in ruins haha. Nearly six decades on the planet so far and many more burnt knees to come I say!
I made cheese scones to have with the soup: I used two types of cheese as I’d bought some brie that needed using up and grated Swiss that was on special. Cut the brie into small dice and put in with grated cheese before you add the liquid to the scone mix, if you want to try using it this way. The dice is nice because the pieces are bigger so you get some little gooey pockets of cheese in the scone. I’m sure I’ve told you of my pastry horseshoe/cutter.
This makes scones of cloud-like texture, I promise. Cold butter, cut it in with this bad boy and your scones will have a better chance of being light fluffy morsels. I baked potatoes while the scones were cooking as my two-fer; I’ll finish them off in my small oven for dinner another night. Gotta save/economise where ya can; times are hard on so many levels right now.
I have so many good things in my life. The people, the connections, the balance of it, humour, service, the love I enjoy gives me the strength to advocate for women and children. To speak the truth and be grounded in reality. #TheNakedEmperor and sycophants need not apply. Men who call themselves women are not.
Win, lose, draw I do not and will not ever need false documents to say I am a woman. Women are a fact, not a feeling. I am not a legal fiction. XX forever. Every cell. You can police, legislate, chant, punish; you can NEVER make us believe your lies.
I will leave the last word to JK Rowling today. This is what is happening in society. However, look at the ratio; tick tock on forcing cock into our spaces and pretending humans can change sex. Reality will not be denied.
#FuckYourPronouns
#XX
#AdultHumanFemale
#NEVERSurrender
It’s important to to remember what’s good about our cultures amongst the less than desirable bits, and what we’ve learned from those who’ve gone before us, even if we barely recognise it, or have improved on it. Everything we know we’ve learned from someone, and just doing the simple things like you describe honours that, whether we’re conscious of it or not. Reading your post brings that home to me.
I love your domestic posts. Nice change of pace and very warm and comforting 🙂