The Hopenfogels

My lil ol' blog is two years old today, and to celebrate, I have decided to create an award.

Every year on the 29th of May, we here at the Land of Meg will announce the winner of The Hopenfogel award. Hopenfogel means Hoopoe bird in German.

Hoopoes were considered sacred in Ancient Egypt, and symbols of virtue in Persia, but I have chosen them as the namesake for my annual award because Hopenfogel was my great grandmother Edith's maiden name, and it brings to mind all the impressive women in her lineage.

There are no criteria for the award. Some years there may be more than one winner, some years there may nominations in several categories, some years I may forget all together, but for this year's award, there is a single winner.

And it is Norrie.

From The Age, March 10, 2010:

This Mardi Gras, Norrie received a gift that no other androgynous person in NSW has had before.

The night before the parade, the postman brought a certificate from the Registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages that contained neither the dreaded ''M'' nor its equally despised cousin, ''F''.

Instead, it said ''sex not specified'', making the 48-year-old Sydneysider, who identifies as neuter and uses only a first name, the first in the state to be neither man nor woman in the eyes of the NSW government.

(Norrie has since had zie non-specified gender status withdrawn by the government who said that it is not permitted in law to state anything other than male or female on legal documents.)

But to us you are a winner. Congratulations Norrie! This inaugural Hopenfogel belongs to you.

All in Good Time

The found plastic we hung on the hook when we took down the kitchen clock.

The bit of scrap paper I stuck on my laptop to cover the clock there too.

I don't know which gardening metaphor I like better: companion planting or self-seeding.

If I were a slug, I would have eaten this too.

But I'm not.

If you live in Central Victoria but don't have a garden of your own, feel free to come and share in our bountiful bounty in exchange for a green thumb workout. We have a listing on Shared Earth. Come share!

Portrait of the blogger as a bandita in her balaclava bought to make the frosty mornings bearable on her bike.

Rednesday: Streaming

From here.

I Made Cheese

I made cheese today. We had a choice of about 10 different kinds and I chose feta.

The class was held at a Community Centre about 30Km away. I have been working quite a bit at our local Community Centre so it was great to see how another one works. I was just as interested to see their kitchen and bathrooms and notice boards, as I was to do the course.

This is Dorothy our teacher. She was wise and funny and said it's her dream to see everyone in Australia making their own cheese.

This is the cheese I made. It's currently in the fridge bathing in brine. Tomorrow I will drain it and replace the liquid with olive oil, garlic, black pepper and a bay leaf.

How did they make cheese in the olden days? How did the Greeks make feta all those centuries ago without all our modern technical know-how and gadgets? Homer, in The Odyssey wrote: "Every one in that country, whether master or man, has plenty of cheese..." What lucky folk they were! And me too, even though I'll have to settle for being a man with this one, as the art of it is not something I'm ever likely to master.