Author Archives: Skye

Making the switch


Posted by Skye

I can tell you now that this blog post is going to take me a long time to write. I’ve gone and done a drastic thing and… *drum roll please*… switched to a Dvorak keyboard layout.  I made the switch having developed tendonitis in my left thumb from carrying Nicholas around, causing significant pain when I type. Given that my job is all done on the computer (and typing), it made ergonomic sense. That said, I foresee hours being spent learning how to touch type again.

I spent my evening last night switching the keys around on my keyboard, and now I just find it funny that I was unable to successfully change the index keys. Like my dodgy fix?

Home made Dvorak keyboard

And does anyone have experience typing with a thumb/wrist splint on? Should I just go one handed?


Intellectual Property Irony


Posted by Skye

Please do not C create something NI heard something which made me laugh. A while back, I made a score card, to rate the impact of unauthorised vendors selling my company’s intellectual property in my region (South East Asia). I made it just for our region and made it primarily so I could work out which cases should be escalated to our global intellectual property (Global IP) team. If I may say so myself, it was a pretty awesome idea. It helped to put a value on something that was very hard to calculate – how much impact was company x, having on our financial results, when we weren’t always 100% sure of how much business they were doing. Anyhoo… I heard the other day that the Global IP team is using my scorecard. The IP team ripped off my idea! LOL.

I’m actually not annoyed, more amused. And to be honest, I’ve “borrowed” a few internal ideas here and there as well… In the context of work, I like to call it “using best practices” although I guess I could write a whole blog post on the lack of merits of using “best practice” (aka “old practice”). On the other hand, I do wish I could “charge” the IP team for the use of my scorecard. I think the aggressive (legal) pursuit of 5 unauthorised vendors in my region wouldn’t be asking too much. Would it??

Image from Atmostheory (link)


Hit “like” if you dislike the like button


Posted by Skye

Facebook Really Dislike button

Lately, and from an incredibly subjective place, I’ve been pondering the merits (or lack of merits) of the “like” button. I actually do use the like button. On Facebook, if a friend posts a status which I find is particularly interesting or a photo which I find it really great, I will click “like”. But I don’t always stop at the like button. I also often like to leave a comment, just to show I don’t just “like” something, I actually care. On the other side, I admit to being a bit of a comment whore. I get a buzz when people “like” and comment on my posts/statuses/photos. There’s just something about being commented on or “liked” which puffs up my ego a little bit and makes me feel like I’m a slightly more important cog in the world, because someone took the time to notice me. Lame, I know :)

But recently I’ve come to the point where I hate the like button. It’s impersonal and too easily there. There are times when I don’t understand why someone likes my post/status/photo and I darned well want to. I’ve really come to loathe those people that just click “like” to everything. Seriously folks! Do you actually like it, or is it some kind of weird competition to see who hit “like” first? Stop being a drive-by liker! And I really hate it when people click “like” obsessively, as though they’re completely involved in your life, when they don’t really give a toss about you. And don’t even get me started about those negative posts which people “like”. Nothing online drives me more nuts than seeing someone click “like” to “I’ve got a horrible case of diarrhea and my guts feel like they’re going to spill out onto the floor”. What on earth is wrong with you people??

The irony of this post? I decided to take a semi hiatus from Facebook all because of this bizarre dislike which has been brewing in me, and I moved some stuff that I still wanted to share with close friends/family to a wordpress.com blog. And what do I see when I post? A freaking “like” button. LOL. It took me two days to work out how to turn the damned thing off.

Image from Disocciated Press (link)


Tonight I baked… Soft pretzels


Posted by Skye

Since I’ve been on my no dairy diet, I have realised that there aren’t many nice breads that I can buy in the store. In particular, I realised that Gardenia bread has milk powder in it. This was a pretty gut wrenching realisation, as I really love the many different types of Gardenia bread. Butterscotch, chocolate chip, raisin, wholemeal… Delicious! The up side of this realisation however, has been that I can bake my own bread.

Back in Sydney, I had tried multiple times to bake bread. I tried so many recipes, and they all failed. I don’t know whether I had a bad batch of yeast, but none of the breads rose properly. This time around, at the start of January I returned to my old faithful, the person whose recipes I have so far never failed at using… Jamie Oliver. In particular, his basic bread recipe. And to my surprise, I ended up with a nice round loaf of bread!

Emboldened by my success, today I tried baking pretzels, using the soft pretzels recipe indexed at the MSPI Mama website.

As a very non intuitive cook, who, despite being a massive Auntie Annes fan, I need step by step instructions. I gathered my ingredients, I mixed, and I kneaded. And then I went to roll my pretzels. “But… but…”, my brain stammered. “The recipe doesn’t tell me how long my pretzel dough should be, or how to actually roll the pretzel shape!”

I laughed at myself, and then found myself reminiscing on the time I made supersoft ensaymadas. I followed the recipe precisely there also, but again, didn’t know how big my ensaymadas should be as I rolled them and prepared them for baking. They ended up ginormous. And today in the case of my pretzels, they look like bread versions of those little plastic dog poops that you get in novelty stores. Also huge. Next time I know: The pretzel dough needs to be very thiiiiiiin and very looooong, and I don’t have to worry about them looking a little skinny pre bake. After baking, they will puff up to be about 3 times the size they went into the oven at!

Overweight Pretzel

The picture was taken with my iPod camera in bad light, which is why it’s so grainy. On reflection, I clearly still need to work out how to roll a pretzel!! The pretzel looks quite white on the bottom here, because I didn’t have any baking paper. I used flour dusted aluminium foil instead, so the bottom of the pretzel is very flour-y.

Overall, the recipe is quite good. I would add a touch more salt to the dry mix next time, and I also need to remember to be extremely liberal with the egg wash. I only put a little on (the same amount as I would if I was baking a loaf of bread) but I now know I should have put a lot more on. I also screwed up the oven settings and had the heat on only at the bottom of the oven, which is another reason why it looks so pale.

And next time I’m going to buy some powdered cinnamon. Boo yeah.


The Dad Factor


Posted by Skye

Nicholas and Dad playing togetherNicholas is taking his first nap of the day. I love the first nap for a variety of reasons: 1. It’s normally a long ish nap (1.5-2 hours); 2. Nicholas is usually very easy to put down; 3. Nicholas wakes up a total joy from this nap. But it’s the weekend, and naps are always difficult on the weekend – even the heavenly “first” nap. After much thought and analysis, I call this issue “the Dad factor”.

That’s correct. You heard me. The Dad factor. On the weekends, Dad is home!! It’s time to wrestle, play, and subvert Mum’s rules and schedule. I love watching the two of them together, so every weekend and with a grain of frustration, I shake my head, sigh, smile at my boys who are both getting over tired (yes, that can happen to Dad too), and grin and bear it. Even though I sometimes have to spend hours mopping up tears, pacing with an 8kg baby in my arms in a dark room singing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”, and even though sometimes I feel the strong and overwhelming urge to hurl the baby monitor onto the floor, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Dad factor comes into play in other less frustrating ways also. Bath time and bed time are different. Instead of rubber duckies, “splash splash revolution” comes to town. Instead of a soothing story about three bears (a Karamello Bear, and Holly Berry Bear, and a Nicholas Bear btw… we’ve tailored the story somewhat), Nicholas is regaled with stories of Dad’s crazy workplace. Milk time becomes a downright wrestle between myself and Nicholas, as he constantly strains to maintain eye contact, smile, and laugh at his Dad, preferring to do these things over drinking. And play time (complete with soft toys) sees Mr. Rac Rac (the Racoon) being “eaten” by Lejon the Lion; Mr. Robato (the Robot) coming to the rescue, and Raffie (the Giraffe) ultimately saving the day.

The Dad factor makes me reminisce about spending time with my own Dad. Spending time in the garage, watching him work on the car or help me with a particularly tricky homework assignment that involved building things (a pyramid and a kite spring to mind almost instantly). Crawling under the house after my Dad, carting wheelbarrows filled with dirt and sand or bricks from one end of the garden to the other. Building lego houses and being instructed in the correct way to “lay” the “bricks” so that my house walls are strong. These kinds of experiences fill my childhood, and I think helped to shape me into the person who I am today. I always felt (feel) safe with my Dad. I can run any idea by him and never feel judged (although I’m sure he has hung his head with frustration and disappointment about  some of the choices I’ve made in my life), and if I really need to, I can run to him for help.

That’s the kind of relationship that I want Nicholas to build with his Dad, so Dad factor, come on in. It’s a mixed bag of goods, which I wouldn’t trade for the all world.