Sentences with phrase «made chook»

But occasionally I made chook sandwiches as an afternoon nibble for guests and furtively scoff a few myself.

But occasionally I made chook sandwiches as an afternoon nibble -LSB-...]

This morning I didn't feel much like making chook cupcakes, I didn't feel much like making anything at all, other than lying on the couch skulling Diet Coke.

Not exact matches

Your breakfast basket will have fresh eggs (as long our chooks perform), home - made bread, fruit, muesli and much more.

And as for rooster noise, well they'd be onto the council so fast... Plus, if the chooks escaped and made it onto the road — well, Schnitzel would really live up to his name.

Bloody wish I got to sit around all day instead of doing the grocery shopping, packing the dishwasher, tidying the house, shovelling chook shit, making dinner, ferrying the Sprogs around... ungrateful buggers...

I've been experimenting with recipes that use leftover mashed potato, as the chooks turn their noses (sorry, beaks) up at it and waste makes my chest all tight.

Cooked bacon sandwiches for Sprogs» breakfast (to remove temptation from fridge for The Great Famine of 2012); did grocery shopping; bought Husband six - pack of beer for New Year's Eve party; bought chooks 25 kg bag of scratch mix; staggered to car with 25 kg bag of scratch mix; washed and hung out two loads of washing; filled recycling bin with empty bottles and cartons; baked eggshells to make grit for chooks; assembled wraps for Husband and Sprogs for lunch; baked banana bread to use up manky banana supplies; baked biscuits with Sprog 2, who doesn't like banana bread; shut back door 50 times to stop plague of mozzies getting in; shut front door 20 times to stop plague of mozzies getting in; killed lots of mozzies; threw out old magazines and newspapers; put crap away from recent car trip; cleaned chook shit out of chook house; sorted three baskets of clean laundry; unpacked and repacked diswasher; returned to supermarket for forgotten essentials: toilet paper, broccoli, sparklers and last shot of caffeine before The Great Famine of 2012; cooked dinner; washed Sprogs» hair and painted Sprog 2's toenails rainbow colours for New Year's Eve party; copped grief from Husband for painting Sprog 2's toenails (some sexualisation nonsense); went to New Year's Eve Party; reluctantly abandoned third glass of French champagne after being reminded of designated driver status; drove Husband and Sprogs home from New Year's Eve party; took Unisom; collapsed in bed at 11.50 pm.

But it was a life or death situation — he's been making neck - wringing gestures about the chooks because of the crazy mess they make every time they escape (six times a day, on average).

A trip to Woolies followed so we could get the makings of BBQ chook sangers, which we ate on the couch while the fur babies stared longingly at us through the sliding door window.

Christmas morning for Sprog 1 is going to be quite something: a toy pimple, a black T - shirt with a skull on it, a sea monster Barbie doll, Just Macbeth (book), a guide to weird scientific stuff, some Mushi Monsters, a stuffed owl made from chook feathers and a bug catcher.

Husband keeps making smart remarks about how we are enjoying the most expensive eggs on the planet from the chooks who must have the best of everything.

So I'm tossing up between devilled chicken, whole chook baked in a pastry shell or lamb racks with roasted vegies (the lamb racks will no doubt be so outrageously expensive they'll cause heart palpitations, so they probably won't make the cut).

Instead, the show was about the pavilions: marvelling at the sheep and the chooks and the alpacas; feeding the roaming goats and lambs in the farmyard exhibit; watching as baby chicks hatched from their eggs; gawping at the Hungarian pullis in the dog judging arena; watching a wood - chopping heat; grinding wheat into flour and making pasta in the fresh produce area; being awed by the 700 kg plus pumpkin...