What did you talk about this week?

It's been a long week (not) in the Fibro. The Builder has been flat out with bathroom renos, I have been flat-out with book edits, and the boys have been flat out... being boys. So our topics of conversation have been somewhat more narrow than usual. But that doesn't mean there were few of them. No sirreee.

Bath enamel, plastering, taps, lights, kitchen colours, kitchen colours, kitchen colours, internet access, Friday Night Lights, community grants, breakfast, weeds, the collective noun for a group of Harry Potters, Sherlock Holmes, Robin Hood, shiraz, dressing gowns, pipes, bad Chinese takeaway, hats, coffee, wife swapping (don't ask!), novels, writing, Dianne Blacklock, Twitter, blogging, Cars 2, tennis, moving house.

What did you talk about?

[image: Tumblr.com]

The world's best kitchen appliance

Last week, the inimitable (and hilarious) Mrs Woog wrote a post about a Thermomix, a kitchen appliance so advanced that I hadn't even heard of it. Clearly Fibrotown needs to lift its game in the party plan/sales demonstration stakes. I commented that if I had such an amazing beast, it would no doubt sit in the cupboard, right next to my breadmaker. Gathering dust.

Last weekend, I had a conversation with a young friend about the wonders of her pie maker. She truly waxed lyrical, going so far as to show me evidence of the fabulous pies she had created and frozen for future use.

I confessed that I didn't have a wondrous pie maker. How, she wondered, aghast and amazed, did I make pies? I told her that I had a truly incredible kitchen appliance. Because I had this one appliance, I didn't need a pie maker, a pizza thingy, a pancake whatsy, a slow-cooker, cupcake whoosit, or, it has to be said, a breadmaker. Yep, one magic kitchen essential.

It's called an oven.

I know. I'm so old-fashioned.

What's your favourite kitchen appliance? Are you a gadget girl (or boy)? And, please tell me, which appliance gathers the most dust in your kitchen?

[image: hmmm, I would like one of these baking dishes from JanFairhurstPottery/etsy to put in my oven]

Left on the shelf

In my kitchen, there is a shelf. I have seen such shelves in other people's kitchens, usually photographed in glossy interiors magazines. In those pictures, such shelves are clean, horizontal spaces, used to denote the transition from one section of an open-plan space to another, without the need for anything so unsightly as walls. In those pictures, such shelves are adorned with one witty fruit bowl, often overflowing with piles of unseasonal lemons or limes (see left).

In my kitchen, there is a shelf. I know it's there because I've seen it. When we moved in. Since that time, it has been buried under an avalanche of family detritus. Or 'an eclectic layer of adornment' if you like the interiors-speak better. Pencils and textas (but never a working pen when you need one). A thermometer to poke in sick children's ears. Keys. A Tupperware catalogue that I forgot to order from. Two DVDs that I forgot to return to the shop. Those children's artworks that are not destined to be treasured forever but must spend their time at the holding station before being recycled lest said children think that we do not love them. Three funky orange canisters that have never held anything. A shiny copper jam pan with a witty fruit bowl stuck inside it because there is not room on the shelf for both. Admittedly, there are some lemons in said fruit bowl - but they are withered and stale because I forgot to use them. It's hard to see them under all that adornment.

Every once in a while, I clear off this shelf, leaving it bare but for the funky canisters and the weird jam pan arrangement. Within minutes, it has started attracting a new layer of adornment.

In your kitchen, is there such a shelf?

[image: 22BayRoad/etsy]