EASY HOMEMADE CONDITIONING SHAMPOOS

My usual shampoo concoction is liquid castile soap diluted with water, but truth be told I've found it a little too drying lately. Maybe the winter weather has something to do with it. Anyway, I've switched to this shampoo recipe and am stoked with it. My hair tends on the dry side and this shampoo cleanses AND leaves it soft and easy to brush.

via rentfrockrepeat

COCONUT MILK CONDITIONING SHAMPOO

empty squidgy bottle (I use an old liquid soap bottle)
1/2 (120ml) coconut milk
2/3 cup (160ml) liquid castile soap
for dry hair add 1-2 tsp plant oil (jojoba, neroli, coconut, almond or argan are great)

Add portions of coconut milk and castile soap until you've filled your bottle to desired level. Add oil if using. Shake well to mix and shake before every  use. Mixture will last at room temp for about 1 month.

TIPS: 

• If your hair is on the oily side, use light coconut milk or make your own.
• Use only organic coconut milk - the stuff you find in supermarkets (like the ayam brand) is too thick and not like real coconut milk at all.

more legume love: greek fasolatha

I'm running with my bean theme, because quite a few of you have told me that finding ways to eat them is a little tricky. There's not a lot of bean recipes out there. Have you tried this Greek fasolatha? It's a cinch to make, really simple ingredients and very comforting. Good for a cold weekend cook-up.

Photo via kitchen daily. I'll be photographing mine soon.

fasolatha 

500g dried great northern white beans or butter beans, soaked overnight

2 bay leaves

extra virigin olive oil

1 brown onion, diced

3 carrots, diced

3 celery sticks with young leaves, diced

3 tomatoes, blanched, skin removed and squashed (if in season)

salt and feshly ground pepper, to taste

fresh parsley, finely chopped, for garnish

hot red chillies, to serve (optional)

Drain the soaked beans and place them in a large pot with bay leaves and enough cold water to just cover. Bring to the boil, then simmer until softened but not cooked through.

my simple life: why I’m choosing a simple life

Two months ago I carried out a severe and deliberate culling. I donated three full garbage bags of clothing (socks included) to the local Salvos and distributed my hideously large magazine collection amongst various local op-shops and medical clinics.

via pinterest

I’ve also been living without 80% of my kitchen wares – they’re stored in the spare room of my house whilst we undertake a behemoth renovation. And I’ve culled my bathroom accessories down to half a tiny shelf (this has happened over time - as things ran out I didn’t replace them).

It all may sound insignificant but actually the extrusion of said objects from my life has given me an inordinate level of happiness.

Perhaps it’s because I no longer stand in front of a bursting wardrobe flabbergasted as what to wear each morning – now I have 5 outfits that I mix and match throughout the week. Or maybe it’s simply because I haven’t spent a second of my time shopping to replace things I got rid of (okay, expect for three pairs of underwear). Regardless, it’s been two months and I’m experiencing what many seasoned minimalists have been spruiking since paring back became a Thing – new and unmistakable feelings of happiness, elegance and calm.

Why so? Common sense will tell you that less stuff creates space and that this space can’t just be seen by the eye, it can be felt, like the loosening of a tight grip around your chest. This is true.

For me it’s also about the freedom gained when you realise you don’t actually need a lot of stuff. Suddenly your productivity, cooking ability, dress sense or self-confidence isn’t chained to material objects. You feel lighter (and grateful) for not having to drag them around like a massive lead ball.

winter lentils with pork and chestnut

Lentils – those beady little morsels make me happy. They’re cheap, tasty, full of nutrients and low in phytic acid. I eat them at least once a week. It’s a perpetual mission to keep coming up with interesting ways of cooking them (let’s face it; you can get stuck in a lentil rut for sure). Well I must say, I think I’ve outdone myself with this concoction.

my winter lentil concoction. the yellow blobs are the chestnuts. yum, i promise.

A few things to know:

• For instructions on how to prepare lentils, check out my post from last week.
• Don’t be shy with the pepper. Lentils like quite a bit of pepper.
• Likewise with the apple cider vinegar. Lentils and chestnuts are both quite sweet – the acidity from the vinegar adds a necessary zing and balance.
• The chestnuts act kind of like a sweet, creamy potato alternative. They’re delicious. They’re in season from Autumn – you can find them at farmers’ markets and some good greengrocers.

winter lentils with pork and chestnut

2 cups persian red lentils (unhulled, whole) or French-style puy lentils, soaked overnight

4 small bay leaves

2 sprigs fresh thyme

10 or so chestnuts

6 pork and fennel sausages (pastured) – if you can’t find pork and fennel, just add a teaspoon of whole fennel seeds

butter, small knob

1 brown onion, finely sliced

1 tbsp sweet paprika

6 whole pimento

salt

black pepper, freshly ground

apple cider vinegar (or a good quality red wine vinegar)

fresh parsley, for garnish

the beauty of forgetting your age (wise words from my “32” year old husband)

A couple of days ago I celebrated my 32^nd birthday. I’m a spring chicken in the grand scheme of things, I s’ppose. But ever since my teens I’ve quietly hated my birthday. Oh I like the attention and all, but I’ve hated that the premise of said day is that I’m ageing. I’m getting older. Every birthday, for me anyway, has stood as a stark reminder that one day I’ll probably forget where I left my dentures.

Enter my dear husband, Dale. He’s 32. He’s been 32 for the past 6 years. Every year we celebrate his 32^nd birthday. And he’s convinced that believing you are whatever age you want to be, or even better, forgetting about age completely and just living as you see fit, is the key to keeping sprightly. He’s so convinced himself that he’s 32, he has to calculate his biological age whenever he completes a legal form.

As it turns out, research suggests he might be on to something.

In 1979, Ellen Langer, a Harvard psychology professor, decked out a house in 1950s decor and invited a group of (rather sickly) men in their 70s or 80s to live in it for a week. They had to watch 1950s TV, wear 1950s clothing and act as if they were living in the '50s. Langer wanted to see if reconnecting the men with their younger selves (they men were around 20 years old in the ‘50s) would help to improve their health.

Did it work? Hell yeah. After just one week, Langer found the men displayed improved memory, IQ, vision, hearing, dexterity, blood pressure and fitness. They stopped using their walking sticks, were walking faster and were cooking their own meals. The men even appeared younger when before and after photos of them were compared. 

Langer suggests that simply thinking young can have a profound effect on not only how you feel but your physical health. She advises people not to dwell on the ageing process, believing much of the decline of old age may be driven by negative perceptions about our later years. Breaking these down can improve our health. “Don’t buy the mindset in the first place, then you won’t be vulnerable to it. I think we have far more control over our health and wellbeing than most of us realise.”