“Mum, I’m hungweeeee! Mum, I’m hungweeeee! MUM, I’M HUNGWEEEEE!”

It is the anthem of witching hour, arsenic hour, whatever you call that God forsaken time when something other worldly and dark possesses all the world’s children and parents everywhere dream of being anywhere, but here!

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Believe it or not, there are things you can do to make this hour more bearable. Here are my tips for a smoother ride through witching hour.

Start early

Like 7am early if you can! Don’t begin to think about dinner when the anthem starts. Have it ready, before it starts. Begin with a meal plan on the weekend and make sure you have all the necessary ingredients. Prepare what you can in advance. Peel your vegetables and soak them in water, marinate your meat in the morning, cook a pot of soup the day before or crank that slow cooker. Everything you do before, is one less task when the chaos ensues.

Wear your baby

I’m new to the world of baby wearing, but by goodness it works! Grizzly babies suddenly fall silent and you are left with two empty hands to prepare a meal – winning!

Get your partner to run decoy

Amused children are happy children. Have your partner sit down with the kids and give them his full attention. While ever they’re climbing on him, they’re not climbing under you.

Give your children sharp implements

Nah, just kidding. If they’re not too feral, get them to help. I give mine a blunt butter knife to massacre chop whatever’s on the menu. A bean, a carrot, a piece of cheese. They feel important, they’re occupied and they will be more open to trying new things if they’ve helped make them.

Keep it simple stupid

Not every night needs to be a gourmet affair. When we were growing up, one night a week we had grilled ham, tomato and cheese. Eggs on toast, toasted sandwiches, pancakes and bowl of cereal can all pass for a meal from time to time.

Pass the buck

It does not always have to be you that makes the meal. Take turns with your partner and older children. I love to cook, but making three meals a day, seven days a week without relief becomes burdensome. Keep the passion alive!

Raise the white flag and surrender

There are times when a long walk off a short pier is a more desirable prospect than cooking another meal. On days like this, the fridge door should only be open long enough to grab a bottle of wine, before kicking back to order take-away online, a task made easy thanks to www.eatnow.com.au. Just enter your post code, find a local restaurant in your area, browse their menu, place your order and away you go!

Witching hour will always be a challenge but it does not need to overwhelm. Plan your A game, you’ve got nothing to lose but your sanity!

Did you know that pineapples take anywhere from 18 months to 2 years to fruit? Did you know you can top a pineapple, place the top in the ground and grow a new one? Did you know pineapples make delicious jam? Well they do! Take advantage of this season’s crop with this sweet and delicious Pineapple and Lime Jam.






5.0 from 1 reviews
Pineapple and Lime Jam
Recipe type: Jam
Prep time: 
Cook time: 
Total time: 
Serves: 5 medium jars
Pineapple and Lime Jam
  • 2 medium pineapples, grated (approx 4 cups)
  • 2 cups of water (500 mls)
  • 4 limes, juiced
  • 1 kilogram of CSR Jam Sugar
  1. Grate the flesh of the pineapple (discard core).
  2. Transfer the pineapple into a large saucepan, add the water and cook for about half an hour until soft.
  3. Add the sugar and lime juice and cook for about 45 minutes to an hour or until thick.
  4. Spoon the hot mixture into warm, sterlised jars and seal.


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This post is proudly sponsored by The Kitchen Place

My strongest childhood memories come from the kitchen

I remember jumping off the school bus and running down the hill, keen to see if my mother was home from work. We would come crashing through the door and if we were lucky, Mum would be at the kitchen bench, dropping dobs of butter onto a hot fry pan, a bowl of pikelet batter at hand. We would eat them as fast as she brought them out, dripping with butter and jam.

I remember my mother making roast dinners. She would turn the vegetables in the fry pan, always grumbling and swearing that they weren’t like her mothers. We would sit down and say grace before she would inevitably apologise for the meal she placed before us. We would protest “No!” and my father would say “every mouthful is a taste sensation!“.

I remember standing on a chair next to my mother while she made scones. We would hang around like seagulls hoping to be handed a fluffy off-cut. I remember eating too much and having a tummy ache I would never admit to.


I remember my mother taking out her frustration on a ball of pastry. It was thrown across the room, where it hit the wall and slid into the unsuspecting heater below. She still hates making pastry.

I remember my father cooking meals while my mother worked. He rotated between lamb chops or sausages and vegetables, sausage and onion gravy and tomato savoury. Dad had his repertoire down to a fine art.

I also remember my father making his own special muesli. He would bring out the large silver soup pot and fill it with toasted muesli, bran, sultanas and a range of other ‘secret’ ingredients. He would mix it using his big hands, his whole arm would sink into the pot. I’m not sure if he made it because he liked it or if it was a good way to save money feeding a family of seven. Either way, I liked it.

I remember sitting down to breakfast. I would sit at the left hand of my father and watch in awe as he ate THREE wheat biscuits – THREE! And in the evening he would point at the wall and say in surprise, “What’s that?” I would look and while my back was turned he would slip one of his brussell sprouts onto my plate, “No, Dad!

I remember being allowed to cook. I would make bolognese like a witches brew, adding odd combinations of herbs and shaking out empty sauce bottles, any sauce would do. I would cook enough salty, clumpy spaghetti to feed an army but no one seemed to complain.

I remember using the dining table to do craft and play games while Mum cooked. I remember turning it into a tent and running around it at 100 mile an hour to get away from my sister who was going to thump me.

Now I’m making my own family memories in the kitchen. My baby sits in a bouncer on the bench and watches me cook. My little boy peels carrots, chops beans with a butter knife, mashes banana for banana bread and buzzes around like a blowfly looking for a beater to lick.

The Kitchen Place recognises that your kitchen is the heart of your home, the place where friends and family gather to create meals and memories just like these. For over 35 years the team of kitchen designers, craftsman and tradesman have delivered quality Australian made kitchens, bathrooms and laundries to new homes and old. The Kitchen Place care about what you want and take pride in guiding you through the process of designing and building your dream kitchen. To learn more visit http://www.thekitchenplace.com.au.

Linking up With Some Grace for #FYBF.

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