June Already!

Heelloooooo!!

It's been a quiet year, blogwise. Have been posting more on tumblr recently. Just shoot, upload pix and there you have it. Am not predisposed to many words these days. And I try not to post too many pix of the small fry. Gawd knows, there are too many sickos out there.

Oh well...

So now am stuck at home on self-imposed quarantine. Ever since I got sick in Markdorf prior to coming home, been a bit woozy and find that exposing myself to AC is not the thing to do. So one more day of staying at home, and hopefully, we'll be back in full swing.

Or, at least, half swing maybe.

How Not To Use The Remote Control

Last night, I tried unsuccessfully to switch on the fan using the remote control. I pointed the thing at the standing fan and press as I might on the button, the blurdy fan remained obstinately silent. Out of frustration, I turned to small fry and said to her, "What did you do with the fan? It's not working!"

Note: small fry likes to ambush the fan and constantly turns it off when it is most appreciated. I thought that this time she may have gone so far as to turn it off at the main electrical connection.

She retorted, "Mummy, you're pressing the OFF button!"

"Oh!" replied her sheepish Mummy.

It takes a four year-old to point out that I don't know how to use a remote control. Yikes.

The fan whirred to life as soon as the correct button was pressed.

Morning Radio Is Not The Best of Mood Picker-Uppers

So here I am, a year older, not necessarily much the wiser but then again, what's new, eh?

Time sure flies when you're not on the blogosphere. Not that it doesn't when you're on it either. How I do digress. Anyway, back to the mundane...

Driving to work today, I had the radio on and they were taking calls about relationship issues with an expert from Monash University on hand to dish out advise. A woman comes on saying that she's been married for 3 years and that they've just had a baby. Then she goes on to say that the marriage/relationship is not the same after baby...there's still romance but things are just not the same, etc...but it's just not the same...etc. it's not the same anymore.

Hmmm...

It just sounded like a whole load of whining to me.

Come on, woman! Listen to yourself and grow up already! You've just added another person to your family, of course things are not the same! And you shouldn't expect them to be. It's just not about you or your partner anymore. You have a different priority in life. Of course things are not the same! Even if you haven't had a baby, relationships change, marriages evolve. Of course things are not going to be the same. What tempurung have you been living under?

Anyway, I couldn't stand how the woman was whining so I switched stations even before the expert could come on air. Someone should come up  with a station where there's minimal talking and mostly (good) music. I'd happily tune in.

Sometimes I seriously, seriously wonder what people have in their minds when they wander incoherently, eyes closed into marriage. Or relationships, for that matter.

Nothing remains the same; relationships and people evolve, things change. That is the only normalcy and constant in life.

As to being in a relationship and finding a life partner, like I recently advised a friend: we already strive so hard in life to find happiness - at work, personally, emotionally, spiritually - that we don't need to rush into a relationship or marriage just because we are lonely or that we want to be accepted by society. Being involved with another person should only be an option when that person ADDS to your happiness, not take away from it.

Seriously, what's the point when you're in a relationship and miserable when you can be single and happy? I'd take the latter any day.

It's a no-brainer; if people would realize this rather than fight it or try to live up to society's (friends, family, etc.) expectations, there'd be less miserable couples, divorces and screwed-up marriages.

More Than One Way To Mop The Floor

It's the second last day of Jona's two-week holiday. I'm feeling industrious after a bout of vacuuming and have brought out the mop and the bucket. Small fry sees me, hops off her dining chair and trails after me into the bathroom.

"Mummy, are you mopping?"

"Yes."

"Can I help please?"

"No, why don't you sit down? It'll be wet and slippery. You might fall."

"I'll walk slowly. Can I help you mop please?"

"No, I think it's better that you just sit down."

"Please, please can I help you mop?"

Pause.

"Please, please, please Mummy, PLEASE?"

Oh no. Oh nooooooo.

I've seen the way she 'mops' and it's not my idea of mopping. She's had occasion to help Jona mop and it's not pretty. Her idea of mopping is pushing the mop a few paces and dragging it every which way haphazardly. Then dumping it and running off to do something else before coming back to it and continuing. It would take me twice as long to finish the job if she 'helped'. Oh no.

So I grit my teeth and reply.

"OK, you can help me but let me finish first. Then you can mop to your heart's content. OK?"

"OK."

So I finish the round of mopping with small fry trailing after me BEGGING me to let her mop. Please, Mummy, can I mop yet? Please, please, please can I mop? Mummy, can I please mop? By the time I'm done, she can't wait to get the mop off my hands and do her share of the mopping. Of course, that includes dragging it from the bathroom to the guest room and remarking, "Mummy, look! I'm so good at mopping!." Then sitting on the carpet and saying, "Look, Mummy! I can mop sitting down!"

Then lying down and saying, "Now I'm very tired, I can mop lying down."

Soon she takes a break to play with her toys and telling me, "Mummy, I'm leaving the mop here. Don't touch it or take it, ah!" After 10 minutes, she takes the mop and proceeds to 'mop' saying, "You have to walk slowly coz I'm mopping. Be careful, it's very wet."

Next, "I'm flying on the mop, Mummy!", astride her mop broomstick-Bewitched style.

"Are you done yet?"

"No, not yet."

"OK, time to finish up, it's your last round."

"OK, Mummy."

Then she proceeds to heave the mop up and stick it behind me, between my back and my chair, and starts angling it up and down like a see-saw. "Look, Mummy! It can be a see-saw too!"

"OK, we're done!"

"All right. I'm done," and throws it down onto the floor and walks away, her attention focused on something else in the bedroom now.

About five minutes passes as she gets distracted with the curtains in the bedroom. Then she's out again and sees the mop lying on the floor, picks it up and starts 'mopping' again.

"Oh, I'm not done yet. A little bit more coz there's so much stuff on the floor."

The next thing I know, there's a 'plop' and small fry runs into the room. I look behind me and see the mop, broken off the handle. 

Oops. 

I run after her into the room to calm her down and reassure her the world is not going to end because the mop disintegrated. After a fierce round of hugs and a string of "It's OK", she stops hyperventilating. 

After a while, she says "I'm really sorry that I mopped so long, Mummy and then I broke the mop. I'm REALLY SORRY," and hangs her head.

Who could be angry with that? Also, the mop was old and it was time for a replacing. I just didn't know its death would come at the hands of the small fry. At least I can now chuck that old thing of a mop and get a new one. And I have this post to remember the incident by.

Ah, the pleasures of the small things in life.

Breather

Taking a short break. Trying to figure out what to do with all the pies I have my fingers stuck in. Or maybe not. Hence, the breather.

In the meantime, hugs and kisses, good health to all.

High Heels And Johnny Polanco

I was missing my salsa the other day. So while having lunch at home, I blasted Jimmy Polanco on the Book and was bopping in my seat while the small fry was being read to.

Salsa music just gets my blood moving and my feet itching to dance. So I dug out my dance shoes, strapped them on and tried out a few rusty moves.

Not to be left behind, small fry scampered down from her perch on the dining chair and skittered around my legs as I moved. Tried carrying her and mambo-ing a bit but the small fry ain't so small anymore.

When I took off my shoes, she promptly put them on and since the music was on, shimmied her little butt to the music too. Hahah, small fry will turn out to be a salsa dancer yet. And more of a pro at wearing heals than her mum.

When and if I ever get the photos uploaded into the Book, I'll post them for everyone's viewing pleasure.

Feels Like A Collar

My dad loves cute little doodads and all manner of beautiful but useless things. We've got a closetful of beautiful Swarovski crystal, loads of knick-knacks lying around the house and a gorgeous blue silk Persian rug which is was destroyed by a bout of accidental washing.

On his recent work trip to Japan, he bought a bunch of trinkets. One of them is the cutest little Japanese which you attach to your mobile phone. Of course, I immediately put it on my phone. It's just too darned cute not to put on.

I love how it dangle coyly from my phone, peaking out from the pouch. It hangs from one side of the pouch while on the other, my ceramic fat cat hangs out.

I only wish I could dampen the sound of the bell that jingles inside its round little kimono. I feel like a cat with one of those collared bells, announcing my every step to all and sundry.

I can't sneak very quietly away to anywhere now. That darned kimono lady announces my intention with my first step.

Now I know why I take the bells off any collars that I've purchased for my cats. And I've purchased many. Not that the collars stay on them for long. I always take pity on their valiant efforts to claw those damned things off and end up taking it off for them myself.

So now I've got my own 'collar' of sorts. It's OK, I guess I can live with the annoying tinkling for a bit. The kimono lady is just too cute to leave sheltered in a box somewhere.

It's Over!

YESSSSSSSS!!!!

I am ecstatic that Spain has won the World Cup. I've always admired their style and precision and they are deserving of the title and trophy. Especially after the way they were harassed and harangued by the Dutch. Urgh, if the Dutch have to resort to physical tactics and fouls to trip up a worthier opponent, it shows just how good bad they are at the game. The germans at least had more class and sportsmanship than to resort to such tactics. It was an ugly game to watch.

And what a beautiful goal, right at the end by Iniesta. I love watching the Spaniards play, even though they didn't get to 'play' much against the Dutch aggression yesterday.

No matter, they won.

Viva Espana!

P.S. Small fry was a vocal couch spectator in both the Spain-Germany game and the final between Spain & Netherlands.

Hello, 2010!

The plan was to watch the fireworks from hubby's office last night, complete with small fry in tow. Jona's back in the Philippines on break and neither set of parents are quite dispensed to come down to mind the small fry.

That was the plan, anyway.

Small fry had much to adjust to from traveling to and back from Brisbane that it seemed too much to ask of her to schlep along with us to catch an annual fireworks display. I was ok with staying at home, heck, was even dressed for an evening home, even though I'd already preset the settings for the camera for the night.

Final word from hubby sealed it though. We'd brought out the stroller and were prepping it to transfer a sleeping small fry into it when he turned around and thought better of the idea. I just shrugged and went back to my book.

My enthusiasm for the new year was that abundant. Yay. In truth, it's just another year and another 365 days to call a new year.

But the brown cows had a blast. They got a major grooming session while we were catching the fireworks on TV. At least some members of the family were receiving some pretty much needed TLC.

Welcome, 2010.

Making Something Out Of Something

I've always been a sucker for making things with my hands. I'm not too good at creating things from abstract ideas or coming up with my own designs but give me a pattern or something to follow and I'll be more than happy to reproduce it.

I've gone through almost the whole gamut of crafting when I was young: cross-stitching, crocheting, knitting, embroidery, felt stuffed animals, beading, those knitted animals/dogs you comb out the yarn to make furry (no idea what it's called). I would have done tatting if I'd known where to get the equipment.

I also loved helping my aunt bake and make cakes, paus, bread, and even pastry. Her sturdy Kenwood mixer was my favourite equipment to operate. I loved that industrial strength mixer.

In secondary school, I opted to do Home Economics rather than boring old Commerce. And boy, did that turn out to be the right choice! My most memorable experiences and happiest memories of school can be distilled from those three years of Home Ec. and the havoc I caused in cooking class (mistaken ingredients, tiny teacups, sporting teachers and great friends) and the quiet times during sewing class.

My 'crafting' genes may have skipped my mom and gone straight on to me as most of my aunts on both my parents' sides have some sort of love for sewing or baking or some form of handicrafting. My mom has no love for it. She can operate a sewing machine (she made me my favourite pyjama pants all the way till I was in college) and make great home-cooked meals but she's not one to 'craft'.

These days, with more time on my hands (??? well, discounting the 'jobs' that I have) I find I'm rediscovering my affinity for making things. Especially now when ingredients and equipment are so readily available as compared to when I was a kid.

It all started with the cooking. And the recipe books. Granted, I don't do gourmet nor gourmand. But I do like to try out a new thing more often than not.

Then I discovered Etsy. I mean, REALLY discovered Etsy. It got to the point that I would trawl through the site everyday just to look at all the pretty things on sale. And then I started buying them. Not much, but a vintage skirt here (and I absolutely LOVE my Etsy vintage denim skirt), a bracelet there, some groovy upcycled clothes for the small fry.

It was her upcycled pants that got me to thinking I could sew for myself too. And then I got the sewing machine. It spent a few months in the cupboard before I took it out and put it to use. First, I had to finish the cat that I was crocheting. And then there were other things I wanted to crochet.

I started borrowing crochet and sewing books from the library. Then I started ordering them from Amazon. Finally I started buying fabric. And dug up some scrap fabric I'd bought from a quilting shop. And then...

Tissue pouches

Tiny totes for tiny tots

My phone pouch with both my phones in it.

Doesn't it look lovely red?

Small fry doing groceries with the tiny tote.

A little bit closer on the tiny tote.

...it's still early days yet. I've got a stack of fabric that I've collected that I have yet to work on.

I don't have a top-of-the-line sewing machine. It's a pretty basic portable Janome with less than 20 different stitch patterns. I just want to sew, I don't want to craft on the machine. I don't even own an electric mixer even though I have thought I'd love to own a Kenwood. I just can't seem to justify forking over an arm and a leg for something I may not make full use of.

I'm planning and organizing patterns in always with a mental footnote to myself: finish whatever you're working on before you start something else. I have a tendency to start many projects but sputter out of steam halfway through and abandon them to their unfinished fates.

So this time, I'm trying to pace myself. I'm taking breaks in between 'projects'. I'm trying not to stock up on too much supplies. I'm trying to juggle all my 'hobbies' (reading, sewing, baking/cooking, photographing) with work commitments, yoga and time for myself and my family.

In the meantime, I've already slightly burned my second batch of banana-chocolate chip muffins. Nigella must not have her times right; 25 minutes at 190C doesn't seem to do it for my babies. At least I halved her recipe and burnt only 4 muffins and not a dozen.

Luckily I'm not one to be daunted. Burnt muffins are but bumps on the road to better, tastier muffins. A slightly sewed over tote handle is just a hiccup to a kick-ass funky messenger bag.

I have greatness in my hands and it shall be utilized!

A Day of Firsts

Yesterday, we had a number of firsts in the household:

1. Sophie's new bed from ikea arrived
2. I made okomiyaki (and it was delicious!)
3. Hubby started his chicken breast diet

So, doing item 1 and 2 were fun. Sophie was beyond herself with excitement when I opened up the package from ikea and started to assemble the bed. She not only wanted to sleep in her bed right away, hence egged me on to hurry up and complete it, but she tried in her own way to help too. This means emptying all the screw, nuts and bolts from the package and at one point, throwing a couple to the far end of the room. Not climbing over the bed frames as Jona and I were assembling them was too much of temptation to miss out on. And finally when the mattress was put on the bed, she didn't want to get off for us to put the sheets on. When we were finally done, she went down for her nap about 2 hours later than usual, about 2.30pm.

Preparing and cooking okonimiyaki was just as fun, if not counterproductive. Instead of enjoying dinner at the dinner table, I ate standing up at the kitchen counter, munching on my kewpie-mayo and tonkatsu drenched pancake as I cooked more batches of okonimiyaki. The dish is best eaten hot off the pan or griddle, that's why most Japanese, when they have it at home, cook it on a portable hotplate on the kitchen table. Or that's how I remember my host family eating it anyway.

Hubby's dinner was more bland. And a tad weird, according to him. It was a recipe for chicken thigh that I took off Good Health magazine and incorporated into chicken breasts. There were lemons and oranges and lentil involved. So much for his diet though, as he had more than his fair share of okonomiyaki as well.

All in all, it was a good day. Small fry went to bed in her own bed and I got to sleep through the whole night in my own bed too! What a blast!

Thank goodness for affordable kidtastic ikea furniture and bedding.

A New Addition

I spent about 45 minutes at the office of Janome's sole agent just up the road from where we live, watching the sales engineer teach me about the sewing machine I was about to purchase.

It was a done deal. I just wanted to know more about the machine and how to thread the needle and other basic stuff I should know before I got it.

They took only cash. The machine cost $299 and I had $160 on me.

Since I lived close by and had no car, he endevoured to deliver both me and the machine home and collect the cash after delivery too.

Now I can start on those projects I've been eyeing in my craft books.

Tremors

So while the rest of the country were reeling from the tremor from an earthquake off Padang that shook buildings at around 6.15pm, I was at the Mac, groggy from a nap, wondering if my slight swaying left and right was because of my heartbeat pumping up a storm through my head. You know when it's really quiet and all you can hear is your heartbeat pounding in your head and it makes you feel like you're moving to its beat?

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Jona notices that the water in the bowls are quivering and the bunch of bananas hanging off the cupboard is swaying. She doesn't think to ask until several minutes later.

And then I look at her and go, "Oh, so it wasn't me feeling blur and groggy?"

"No! The water was moving and the bananas were swinging!"

Oh.

Somewhat Plastered

It's been a busy weekend. Hot on the heels of Raya, Genie and Eve dropped by for a visit over the weekend.

Their drive down to visit me was the best all of us could manage of our planned girls' get together that we'd talked about in 1999 a few years after we'd graduated. It was a visit long overdue.

Being the slovenly creatures that we are, and age having crept up on us, we spent much of the time lazing around and other than heading out to dinner before the F1 race, took it easy and tried to catch up as much as we could.

Catching up was somewhat foiled by the girls' new addiction, which I helped fuel: board gaming. When hubby first came home with two board games, one of which was Settlers of Catan, they were both not interested. I could tell by the skepticism in Eve's tone and the look on her face. Genie was no better: she looked even more tired when she looked at the board.

Right. That all changed when they started playing. From zero interest, they became gung-ho addicts. We went as far as bringing out the board every time we were home. And when Rizal and I were too tired to play, the two of them played TWO games by themselves and slept close to 3a.m.

Even on their last day in S'pore, they opted for two games before they left.

Looks like we've created a couple of monsters. At least Eve and her kids will have more to look forward to with her copy of Ticket To Ride than the crap Monopoly she has to play with them. And a whole new world of board gaming opportunities have opened up for Genie if she can find her own group of friends to play with.

Long live Settlers!

A New Fixation

Recently while we were back in KL, hubby played Totoro on the DVD with Sophie ensconced in the beanbag.

And therein created a monster. The next day we got her a Totoro puzzle set.

The small fry now has an absurd fascination with the triplet of white, grey and blue 'spirits' of Miyazaki's creation.

Last night was the first night we put Totoro in the DVD player after she'd had her run of Elmo's World. She remembered enough of the movie to ask her daddy to start from the beginning instead of the middle. And then exclaimed excitedly over the intro song. And asked for Tottoro during the movie and to go back to the intro song.

When it came time for bed, all hell broke loose. She didn't want to go to bed. She yelled. And bawled. Got to the point where I remembered I'd bought a little Tottoro key chain some time back but never got around to using it, hadn't even taken the plastic wrap off it's pristine white fur. And promptly dug it up to shut her up.

Off went the plastic. The small fry was dully appeased. Then off went the tag. No matter, at least she was quiet, happy and willing to go to bed. And it was small enough to fit into the palm of her hand. Finally off went the keychain. And I had to sing the darned Totoro songs over and over again. Not that I could remember the lyrics, so I just made up gobbledygook Japanese as I went along. Because she didn't want me to just hum the songs, she wanted me to SING them.

This morning, she clutched that little white thing in her hand all the way from the cab into class. She didn't let go of it in class. She had her dose of Totoro after dinner and is now asleep clutching the white blob in her hand.

It's time I dug out my grey and blue Totoros in KL. If only I can remember where I kept them.

Itsy Bitsy Etsy

Etsy's been around for yonks and I've known of its existence ever since I can remember. But I've never been tempted to trawl for stuff there.

That's all changed. A few days ago, I wound up on the site and well, let's just say I haven't been able to not visit the site on a daily basis. I have bought only from one seller but I've got a list of favourites.

Luckily, some of the sellers don't ship overseas. And I'm also mostly a miser. Although a compulsive shopper at that. The two don't gel but most times, the compulsiveness wins.

So while I've been trying to regularly post photos on my alterna site (even that's kinda stalled for the moment), I've been pretty much quiet on the refried brains front. It may stay that way and I may end up hiccuping along for a bit.

Now, excuse me while I shop.

Languishing In A Sweat Bath

"Why am I doing this?"

The thought crossed my mind more than a few times as I got into the nth pose during my Hot Yoga session this morning. I feel like a piece of limp dough that's been stretched out and left in the sun too long, and I'm melting into oblivion.

The pose itself I could execute. It was the 38 degree room that felt stifling and made holding the pose all the more difficult. I had to drag my mind away from the thought of the heat. It boiled down to just me, my mat and my sweat.

Sometime later, T-shirt drenched and yoga pants pretty much soaked through, I figure it's almost the end of the class because I hear the click of a knob and the drone of the heater softens. All right, I can do this; I'm almost there.

90 excruciating minutes later, while we're in the relaxed pose (the names of poses elude me), lying down on the mat with eyes closed, I pick up the sound of the instructor opening the windows, letting in a burst of cool air and turning on the air-conditioning.

Finally.

I slow down my breathing some more. Relax. And try to relish having sweat more in 90 minutes than I have in a week.

A warm shower later, clean hair, skin and clothes, and I feel rejuvenated. More than I have in yonks. I look in the mirror and my cheeks are actually flushed.

Then the hairdryer decides it doesn't want to work for me. It's humiliating because there's someone else using the other one just fine. So I wait and walk back into the dressing room when the other person's done. No luck. Even that hairdryer decides I'm beneath it to work.

The receptionist has to get in there and make sure I'm not pulling her leg. Sure enough, one of them is a dud.

I end up signing up for a 20+5 class programme.

When I see Rizal for lunch, he says I sound and look happier. Huh. And then says why didn't I sign up for a 100 classes or more? Huh.

We'll see if I survive the 25 first.

Helping Out

Jona's in the kitchen preparing dinner.

I'm on the laptop trying to finish up my story before I head to class tonight.

Sophia comes over and tells me, "Mommy, mommy! Sophia wants to wee-wee."

So I get her out of her panties and ask her to get on the potty by herself. Which she promptly does. There's a bit of scuffling when she tries to position her potty into a better spot to get a good view on both Jona and me.

The next thing I know, she's taken her potty into the bathroom and trying to empty its contents into the toilet bowl. When I see that she's in the bathroom, I get up and try to give her a hand. Peering into the bowl, I notice she's done #2 and has successfully poured the contents from potty into the bowl.

Wow. She's gone from needing reminders and supervision to use the potty to using it and emptying it herself.

Another stepping stone for the little monster.

The Island's Strays

Singapore has a healthy population of stray cats. When I say healthy, I mean that most of these strays have been neutered.

I haven't come across that many street cats in my forays out into the city. Maybe I haven't been walking the alleys enough. They generally hang in and around markets, food courts and the general HDB areas.

Sometimes, when I'm lucky like today, I come across more than one street feline. On my way to the library I spotted a tri-coloured kitty and couldn't resist calling out to her and giving her a rub. Surprisingly, she was very friendly. And then I noticed that her ear was clipped, a universal sign that she'd been neutered. Her friendliness also went to show that she's comfortable among humans, meaning some kind souls have probably been feeding her. Then I found that she wouldn't let me walk off on my own. She took to following me when I started to head off. Finally not able to keep up with me when I crossed the road, she sat down and meowled quite woefully. Smart cat, trying to appeal to my soft spot.

I studiously walked around her on my way back. By then she was still looking in the general direction of where I'd gone but was distracted by a car tire.

On my way towards Shop N Save, I passed by another stray cat, this one a tuxedo beauty, who also had her ear clipped. She was observing human traffic perched atop a stack of plastic chairs. She wasn't too happy that I decided to stop by and pat her head.

Both cats appeared healthy and well-taken care of, even though, with the tip of one ear snipped off, they are clearly strays. Singapore's catch-and-release programme seems to be working much more effectively than KL's.

As usual.

One Of His Favourites

I received my Polaroid SLR680 last week. Alas, my hoard of 600 film had already expired for more than a year. So here's what the photos sorta look like after auto-adjustment with the Epson CX3800 scanner. No adjustments = yellowy pix. Sigh.

Elsewhere, we celebrated Singapore's national day by viewing the fireworks display from daddy's office. Great view. Due to some unforseen circumstances, my settings on the camera went astray (on their own!) and I only got TWO fairly good shots of the fireworks.

The long weekend was spent trying to entertain and keep the little one busy. Sunday morning we spent at Fidgets where she could rumble and roll to her heart's content and Monday we went to Paragon for the rides and the little indoor play area. She was happy just walking around inside the mall (mall rat!) and found, to her delight, a florist with loads of little water features on sale. "Fountain, fountain! Fountain, mummy!"

Ah, the little pleasures in life.