1 Week To Go

+ I took mum for dinner to Bonsai down at Bronte last night. We've eaten at it's neighbour Swell many times, and they both just get it right. Unlike Neil Perry and Rockpool. Such a comfortable place to sit, across the road from the beach with lovely food and always-friendly service. We had really fresh sushi and sashimi, served at the right temperature, and the special of tempura zucchini flowers filled with snapper mousse was so good we ordered another. Oh and a subtle green tea creme brulee with red bean icecream, mmm, red beans.
+ You count down the weeks with impatience but then as the date nears my feelings changed - trepidation, curiousity, again impatience, but with unquiet stillness. Today I'm excited again, and can't wait.
+ I am geekily excited by the produce I'll have access to in Amsterdam.
+ I have stop-started writing about those closest to me for a few days now, but it feels silly. I know how I feel about them and our relationships and that I will miss them and it doesn't need to be written down.
+ I'm almost-completely organised. My tax is about to be sent in, my papers all collated, unit rented out, stuff at mum's mostly unpacked, mail redirected, address changed, office desk sorted. Must buy a Dutch dictionary.
+ The weather is SHIT. Global warming my arse. I've moved back to Bronte and banked on a solid effort at the beach, but it has been grey and on-off rainy for weeks, aka Amsterdam-lite.
+ The news that John Burton Race fathered a child with a woman he's been having an affair with and is leaving his wife and six kids disturbs me. It also disturbs me that a top chef would do "I'm a celebrity...". You suck John. Your goat cheese salad with hazelnut vinegarette may be one of my favourite dishes to prepare and eat, but you are dead to me now.