10 things I like starting with…

Charlotte wrote the loveliest list of things she likes starting with the letter L. When she handed out letters, Helen scored shiny S, Healing Magic Hands received the nicely rotund R and Kit nabbed nifty N.

Me? Charlotte made me a gift of M. Such an angular letter, all straight lines and sharp corners but try saying it. Suddenly all the angularity falls away and you are left with a rolling sigh. Mmmmm….. A few words sprang to mind immediately: me, myself, my, meme, music, moon, mind, moo-cow and a couple that actually appear on my list. But the rest wouldn’t come, the letter did not want to play nicely with me. So I hit the dictionary. And then, the list started growing and growing and growing. I never knew I liked so many things starting with M.

So, here they are, ten things that I really like starting with the letter M.

From the time I was very little and never photographed without some poor creature draped over my arm like a towel, moggies have always been a part of my life. I’d been moggie-less for too many years when we saw this one in a pet store. I’m very glad she decided that she liked me enough to stick around.

As testing as circumstances have been recently, I cannot imagine not being married to D. We were meant to be together; the formal ceremony we went through was simply our commitment to our commitment to each other and a life together. And that is why, even when we are having great difficulties, I can still talk about him with love and affection.

I fell in love with Marvellous Melbourne twenty years ago, almost to the day. Melbourne was a revelation to this girl from the country: the people; the food and restaurants; the live music and comedy venues; the changeable weather; the parks; the arcades and lanes; the architecture; the trams. But mostly there was the feeling of finally being somewhere comfortable and embracing, a feeling that has never really gone away.

Moods make me feel alive, whether they are good, bad or ugly. Mirthful, mad, miserable, mellow, melancholic — they’re all good.

Milford Sound was a highlight of our trip to New Zealand’s South Island. Standing on the deck of a boat, looking straight up a cliff that rose one thousand metres, dwarfing everything around, and which was shrouded in clouds and waterfall mist made me feel small and insignificant but so totally thankful that I was there (even if it was raining), and able to appreciate the wonder that was all around me. Beyond this I do not have the words to describe this overwhelming beauty of this place.

As the French got a little snooty about wine producers in other countries calling their sparkling wine Champagne, we now have to refer to it as sparkling wine made using the traditional Méthode Champenoise. Whatever it is called, it is perfect as an aperitif at the end of a hard day and sublime when chilled and served with brunch on a lazy Sunday morning.

Marmalade. Bitter yet sweet; made with oranges or grapefruit or lemons; sometimes with added ginger to mix things up a bit. I love it on hot, buttered toast on a weekend morning or late in the evening. I haven’t been able to convert D to its tangy goodness though. I have the rest of my life to do that.

Mise en place, or “Everything in place”, is a term much used in kitchens more professional than mine but which also has its place in kitchens much like mine. I love cooking but must have everything set out beforehand, just so. The actually cooking flows much, much easier when all ingredients and tools are collected and laid out before the cooking actually starts. The one thing that really annoys me about Jamie Oliver’s television shows is the amount of time he spends leaping between the always lush pots of herbs on his windowsill, a fully (and magically) stocked refrigerator and the bench, looking for that essential ingredient that he has not pre-prepared. If he tried that in a commercial kitchen, he’d receive a stern talking to, at the very least.

I love mail that arrives in an envelope with a stamp in the top right hand corner and takes a few days to get to me. I love e-mail from friends and family, near and far, received as soon as sent. I love it all. Except those bits that arrive, usually with a three-figure number printed somewhere, demanding payment. That sort of mail I can live without.

If I want to catch a glimpse of life as it was, in some other time and in some other place, I go to a museum. At their worst they are dusty, dull collections of bits and pieces. At their best they are spine tingling. I will never forget seeing the Reading Room rising high above the courtyard or my first glimpse of the Rosetta Stone or the Elgin Marbles at the British Museum . Nor will I ever forget seeing an exhibit in the library in Newcastle detailing the involvement of one D’s distant cousins in WW1. There was a card he’d sent home to his mother and as I read that card, that person became more than just a name in the family tree.

This list omits mention of many more things I like starting with the letter M: making stuff with my hands, Macbeth, Andrew McGahan, Van Morrison, mash, mauve, melon, mozzarella, mimosa and mimosas, mist and mystery, morning and the morning star, meringue, melody and mellifluousness.

Who knew M could be such a satisfying letter?

Oh, and I almost forgot… If you are one of the dozen or so people in the known universe who hasn’t played along — and you would like to — leave a comment and I’ll dip into my Scrabble bag for you.