A Beautiful Mess

Although you were biased I love your advice

Your comebacks they're quick

And probably have to do with your insecurities

There's no shame in being crazy

Depending on how you take these

Words I'm paraphrasing this relationship we're staging

And what a beautiful mess this is

It's like picking up trash in dresses

- A Beautiful Mess, Jason Mraz

酸.甜.苦.辣.咸.

酸

甜

苦

辣

咸

Maybe one day, I can quit my job and take pictures of food for a living.

That would be nice.

=)

Left Behind

Today, an old lady stopped me at the mrt station and asked for $2 change in coins. With distraught, she explained her handphone was not working and she needed coins to make a call. Having earlier emptied my coins into my office kopi coin pouch, I did not have any coins on me and suggested she approached the station control instead. A look of anxiety crossed her face before she said "uhh...我怕他们骂我..." I ended up changing the note for her and she thanked me profusely.

On the level where I used to work, there is an old cleaning lady. She is clearly not well-educated, does not read or speak English and her Mandarin is weak too. In my 2 years on that floor, she had approached me on several occasions to either make a call on her behalf or to help her with her mobile phone. The automated answering machine at the other end of the line confused her; the piece of metal and plastic we call mobile phone escaped her. Before I taught her how to use the mobile phone, she was paying a monthly bill without even making a successful call.

My mother did not dare to touch her handphone for a while because she had accidentally deleted my dad's number and had no idea how that happened. She once got lost within the City Hall mrt station on her own because the many escalators and English signs could not help her exit the station.

The rapid advancement of technology eludes many of the uneducated or lowly educated elderly. They get left behind, lost and bewildered. Without knowledge of English, they are unable to express themselves. Knowledge is power. But only if you know how to acquire it. Who's there to help them acquire the knowledge?

Lessons from Baking

Today, char and I baked brownie(s).

And...... I've learned that:

1. Brownies ARE very, very, very sinful. Brownies = Sugar (lots and lots) + chocolate + butter + flour. Uck. I feel sick.
   
2. 250g is not = to 250ml.
   
3. Baking is an expensive hobby.
4. Trust your nose. When you smell a chao-dar smell, something IS burning.
5. It doesn't pay to follow the guidelines strictly. Sometimes.
6. If the baking gene is missing in your DNA, just eat the brownie batter. It is very yummy.
7. Things are often not as bad as they appear to be. When we were faced with a chao-dar brownie, we thought that's it. But lo and behold, when we cut the brownie, we realised the inside was really quite okay! Very brownie-like, albeit dry with a chao-dar smell. Accolades received range from "It's actually quite nice!" to "Okay lah, mai hiam buay pai".

Our burnt brownie that was okay on the inside

=)

好草不怕回头吃

With reference to my impending move, I was saying with a sigh: 好马不吃回头草

But she, the wise old one, said: 好草不怕回头吃!

:)

The City of Angels

In "The Land of Smiles"; "The City of Angels"; a city with 90 percent Buddhists, you would expect to see many kind, lovely souls in Bangkok. Indeed, we met several along the way - strangers who greeted us with warm smiles, shopkeepers who wished us well and asked about our trip and friends who took time off to show us around. But it was also a daily ritual to fight errant taxi drivers and tuk tuk drivers; to remind ourselves not to be too friendly with strangers (re: stalker episode) and to just watch our backs and bags. Southeast Asia is really not for the faint-hearted except Singapore - which our Dutch bike tour leader called the "101 to Asia".

Of course we had our fun too. Stuffing ourselves with Phad Thai and Tom Yum almost daily; shopping (Platinum!!!!!!!); tossing coins into the bronze bowls at Wat Pho without understanding what it meant (I now know it's to acquire merit); massages (too few!) and biking through the streets of Bangkok.

Laa gorn, Siam. It was as good as it gets.

Ordinary Miracles

RED MARBLES

I was at the corner grocery store buying some early potatoes. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas.

I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes.
Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller (the store owner) and the ragged boy next to me.

'Hello Barry, how are you today?'

'H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. They sure look good.'

'They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?'

'Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time.'

'Good. Anything I can help you with?'

'No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas.'

'Would you like to take some home?' asked Mr. Miller.

'No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with.'

'Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?'

'All I got's my prize marble here.'

'Is that right? Let me see it' said Miller..

'Here 'tis. She's a dandy.'

'I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?' the store owner asked.

'Not zackley but almost..'

'Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble'. Mr. Miller told the boy.

'Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller.'

Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said, 'There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, when they come on their next trip to the store.'

I left the store smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado , but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering for marbles.

Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died.

They were having his visitation that evening and knowing myfriends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.

Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts...all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her, and moved on to the casket.

Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one; each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes.

Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and reminded her of the story from those many years ago and what she had told me about her husband's bartering for marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.

'Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim 'traded' them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size.....they came to pay their debt.'

'We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world,' she confided, 'but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho.'

With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.

The Moral: We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds. Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath...

Today I wish you a day of ordinary miracles ~ A fresh pot of coffee you didn't make yourself...An unexpected phone call from an old friend...Green stoplights on your way to work...The fastest line at the grocery store...A good sing-along song on the radio...Your keys found right where you left them.

-----

I have been blessed by many ordinary miracles today.

Thank you. :)

i Love the View from My Window

...work is bearable... sometimes... because of this

i Love the Weekend

...of good food (okonomiyaki!!!!!) and good friends :)

and i LOVE taking portrait shots!

i Love to Swirl

Pretty, eclectic shops make me happy!

>> I Love to Swirl <<

Alas, it is no more...! *sniff*