The ultimate hot chocolate

It's been cold 'round our way. Cold and wet. Leaden skies. Damp grass which never quite seems to dry out. Typical winter weather, really.

When staring at a computer screen waiting for inspiration, what's a girl to do but drink hot chocolate?

I did have a particular inspiration for my hot-chocolate-making extravaganza. This cup.

IT man came back from a trip to the shops with it, two weeks after Mother's Day, looking a bit sheepish, and claiming that it was chosen by our daughter. Not him. Oooooh no! He just paid for it. :-)

Anyway. I'm all for a simple recipe, and this one only has two ingredients; chocolate (I used milk chocolate) and milk. I used Lindt couverture for reasons which will shortly become apparent. But any good quality chocolate would yield a nice cup.

Now if you take a look at this picture, you may at first glance think that my hand is really small. Or that the bag of chocolate is REALLY big.

Unfortunately, it's the latter. I'll just zoom in on the label for you:

Yeah, I'm well aware that no sensible person buys chocolate in bags that big, not least of all because it takes up more than its fair share of space in the pantry. Unfortunately our local wholesale bakery sells these bags at such a reasonable price that they're impossible to pass up. I made about a kilo of gourmet rocky road with it at Christmas time, but I still have lots left - and it ain't getting any younger.

Anyway - back to the hot chocolate. For my taste - sweet and rich, but not overpowering - eight little hexagons is about right for an average sized mug. I know, a whole 2.5kg bag of little chocolate hexagons. Too cute.

Heat your milk until just short of boiling, then pour it into your mug. Or if you're lazy like me, microwave it in the mug.

And if you want to be all fancy and gourmet about it, when you pour the chocolate pieces into the cup, stir until melted with a cinnamon stick like this:

'Cos we all keep cinnamon sticks handy for such occasions, right?

There's always a bit of semi-melted chocolate stuck to the bottom of the mug when you're finished. Scraping with a spoon is permitted (and in my book, obligatory).

Right, so now I only have 800 grams of chocolate left. Ideas, anyone?

And do you have a favourite time-wasting drink or snack to fuel you through your writing benders?

Blogging from hospital 102 - the Ultimate IT Guide

Okay, the title of this post is a little misleading - this isn't really a guide or a how-to. Basically I'm just going to share my fabulous portable setup with you...but as to how it's all configured? Well, I'm very lucky to have IT Man to deal with all the messy details. :-)

So...basically, this is what I'm working with.

iPad (with nifty case which flips around so you can stand it up) and wireless keyboard. No, it's not one of the new-generation iPads (people keep asking me that) but it's doing a great job.

And what runs the whole shebang?

Blogging from hospital 101 - food, glorious food

When you're desperate for some quiet writing time...get yourself hospitalized.

Okay, I know it sounds extreme, but hear me out.

Firstly, let me assure you that I'm not just spouting random theory based on something I read on Wikipedia. No, I'm actually trialling this approach myself...blogging from a hospital bed. And you all know hospital beds are not easy to come by, much like those coveted places in writers' retreats...so I see the fact I've managed to score one as quite a coup.

I'll be the first to admit there are some less than desirable features associated with my chosen method of getting some peace and quiet. I mean, firstly, you have to have some kind of illness, or a moderately serious health issue at the very least. They won't take just anyone.

And then there's the IV cannula thing. Also not so nice. I'm not going to post a picture of the one sticking out of my arm. If you really want to know what one looks like, feel free to google it.

But then there are the positives.

The Great Sunflower Destruction - a saga in photos

Well, all you northern hemisphere types who are buried deep in snow and dreaming of warmer climes no longer need to be jealous of the sunflower I have on my blog sidebar (shortly to be removed).

Sadly, that sunflower - and its cohorts - are no longer.

Witness the destruction wreaked by a wild flock of sulphur-crested cockatoos one overcast afternoon.

The advance guard.