Archive for April, 2011

the notion of pain

Pain is the living notion of pain: make an effort of will to change this notion, remove it, stop complaining, and the pain will disappear…The wise man, or simply the thinking, perceptive man, is distinguished precisely by his scorn of suffering; he is always content and is surprised at nothing.

~ Andrei Yefimych to Ivan Dmitrich in Ward No. 6 by Anton Chekhov

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Tomorrow is Cornflakes’ last day working with us.

With these new found powers, I will venture into this new world with virgin eyes and rejuvenated vigour and I will attack my future hurdles with the strength paralegal-ing has revealed me to have…I know I have made some terrible boo-boos in the course of my employment and the ANGELIC forgiveness you have so graciously bestowed has touched my heart and tingled my patella.

He will be sorely missed.

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The Other Half picked me up from work tonight and told me that he and a friend have volunteered to do some work for a Party for the upcoming elections in spite of the fact that he runs from pillar to post every day sending and picking up the children, running his business, being absolutely supportive of my endeavours, getting me from work.

And he volunteered because he trewely believes in investing in Tomorrow: a different, better one.

I am reminded of all the reasons why I married him and am awfully, awfully proud of him.

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apple cake

The Other Half’s mother’s birthday falls on this week. We did an early celebration for her on Friday night with dinner at a Cantonese restaurant.

Then on Sunday, I baked the following cake for her so that the kids can go over and blow out the candles with her:

Cream 185g butter together with 1/3 cup of sugar and a dash of vanilla essence until light and fluffy. Beat in 3 eggs. Stir in 1/2 cup of sifted plain flour and 1 cup of sifted self-raising flour. Add 1/3 cup of milk. Pour into greased tin. Cut 2 apples into quarters and make thin slices along the round part of the quarters about halfway through. Arrange the quarters on top of the cake batter. Bake for 1 hour in 180degC oven. Brush with glaze made out of 2 tablespoons of apricot jam, 1 teaspoon of gelatine and 2 tablespoons of water.

And then we are ready to go:


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I bought this clock over the weekend to replace the one on top of my TV in the living room which had ticked its last some time last month. I bought it mostly because it reminded me of the old radio clock my mother used to have in the kitchen on top of the refrigerator: the black on with the same flip numbers that we look at to gauge baking / cooking times, that we put on during lunch time listening to The Archies and David Seville at Lunchtime at the Oldies before or after school and old popular classics on Symphony 92.4 while having a warm beverage and blue cheese on crackers before heading to bed or studying through the night.

After badgering The Other Half into taking out the batteries from our torchlight to stick into the clock, I spent a goodly amount of time sitting in front of the television set switched on to Food Network Challenge not actually watching it, but just listening to the clock go flip flap counting down the minutes and hours, remembering childhood in the kitchen lit orange identifying the type of train going by towards Malaysia by the sound it makes on the tracks.

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A dip in the pool with the kids with lots of laughs and a nice stretch for my back. Chicken macaroni for lunch (in homemade chicken soup with fusilli / couscous depending on your age group). A close friend over for D&D. A shared bottle of sparkling white wine. A nice nap on the couch while Peanut officiates the die-casting for the D&D game and Lion mills about. Dancing with Lion to George Michael under the living room fan while Peanut circles us. A late afternoon shower with the kids in the tub blowing and catching bubbles pretending to be immersed in pop with Kissing a Fool streaming in from downstairs. Trading game ideas with said friend through dinner at a neighbourhood joint. Sharing a steak with Peanut while feeding the mash potatoes side to Lion. Ice cream and hot chocolate. A nice leisurely long drive. Early bed time. A small glass of leftover sparkling wine with a touch of Ribena.

More of our Saturdays should be like this.

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What is a Butterfly? At best,
A caterpillar but all dressed.

~ Benjamin Franklin

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