It finally ended!

After slaving over spring cleaning for a week, it finally came to an end – for the time being, with a bang. My hands were extremely painful (specifically from the sweeping and mopping) last night but a lot better when I woke up this morning. The alcohol from last night must have helped with the quickened healing! We made a new record last night by drinking in 3 bars at different locations!

May the house be as clean (or even cleaner) by the next Chinese New Year. Seasons greetings from the woof and the meow!

Crockery disaster

For people who have a passion for cooking – regardless of 3-star Michelin chefs or people like yours truly (self-proclaimed masters of the kitchen), pots and pans of various sizes come in very handy while whipping up gourmet meals (in a different class of its own for my case).

Isn’t it delightful to just reach out and grab that cast iron skillet for some simple frying, or that wok for some serious action? Not when you have limited space in the kitchen! Spring cleaning today brought me into the kitchen, and handed me some serious scrubbing tasks. Besides cleaning the cooker so furiously that I damaged the paint job, I also noticed that I have enough pots and pans to prepare a full course meal for an entire concentration camp. That oven… what am I to do with it? Bake a cake or roast an entire chicken for myself?

Second part of the kitchen tomorrow, hopefully an easier day…

Spring cleaning

It is time of the year again for some serious cleaning. I never cease to amaze myself with how much stuff I own, especially skincare. There seem to be enough body lotion/butter to keep the entire nation moisturized through ice age. To make it worse, it is the same case with every other product I can use on my face or body.

My rule of thumb during this period of catastrophic clean-up is to dispose of anything and everything which may seem less important (except the above mentioned) in keeping me alive. A whole lot of throwing out normally takes place before anything else. Along with these things are memories (now very precious memories), I often look at the items one by one and try to recall how they became part of the house. I also managed to locate books I have yet to read, gosh...

So much to do and yet to little time (I am somewhat slow in cleaning). Being left without any other choices, the only thing I can do is to press on and keep going.

I wish myself luck, lots of it… and no more shopping!

My childhood

Growing up seemed to take such a long time when I was young. I wanted to race through school and join the workforce. But now I miss the good old times.

I stayed with my dear grandmother when I was small. Radio blasted hits of the 80s as my aunts got ready for work early in the morning. I can recall their routine clearly as if it was yesterday. The smell of breakfast awakened the sleeping (I was the only one still in bed of course), marking the start of another new day. My first meal of the day was usually half boiled eggs, bread, ham or biscuits.

Emptied of adults other than my grandmother, the house was quiet. Too quiet sometimes, all I heard was the sound of the grandfather clock. Sunshine sprayed through the glass roof in the kitchen on sunny days, brightening up the entire kitchen and the bedroom grandmother shared with me. I used to play by myself in the mornings (yes, I didn’t need much babysitting), making up stories as I go along on a daily basis. Somehow I was rarely in the kitchen before lunch (porridge or fried rice and Chinese tea, accompanied by story telling on the radio). Afternoons were normally spent in the kitchen with my grandmother, preparing dinner. Food had to be on the table piping hot sharp at 6pm, so she started immediately after lunch. I was not incredibly helpful other than keeping her company at the dining table as a chatterbox, but I managed to help with the simpler tasks such as peeling garlic and onions, as well as prepping the vegetables.

As the working returned home after a long hard day in the office, the house became noisy and filled with life once more. Alone no more, I was once again showered with attention.

The twins, though the latest addition to the family, are growing up oh-so quickly. We peered through the windows in the hospital, went jewelry shopping for their full moon, then got excited over their first birthday. Now they are off to pre-school, and doing a whole lot of stuff. I hope they will enjoy their childhood like I did, and still be able to remember in years to come.

Aiden and Andes, make your childhood counts. Always remember those who had walked down the path with you, even for very short miles.

An evening of discovery at China House

Dimly lit and hidden from plain view. What seemed like another insignificant pre-war building located in the quiet precinct of Victoria Street is a gem – China House. We had a tough time locating the establishment ourselves. First time for all of us except 1 (that did not help much though). I was the last person to reach as usual (with the help from friends), thanks to a bad sense of direction and geographical knowledge.

China House is not a bar, a restaurant, nor a gallery… but a fusion between the 3. Bar on the side facing Victoria Street, while an eatery at the other end facing Beach Street. A journey up the narrow wooden staircase leads to the gallery on the second floor, lined with photography artwork from various photographers hailed from different countries. Any of the above would have made me a happy man, imagine a triple dose of happiness on a Saturday evening. The surprise was definitely exhilarating.  I spent quite some time at the gallery, which one cannot expect less of me.

A 2-man band jumpstarted the melodic journey with interestingly re-arranged songs as well as originals. With drinks on our table (ironically a metal trunk lined with leather and not a real table), we lazed comfortably on the mix-and-match chairs, couches and stools, and watched the crowd grew. Interesting enough, expatriates made up a huge portion of their customers. The relaxing ambiance coupled a British colonial décor definitely worked its magic in drawing in both local and foreign fun seekers.

Honestly, I can’t wait to spend another quiet and entertaining evening with friends at China House again, hopefully very soon!

I feel like cooking!

Whenever I feel down and gloomy, I want to cook. When boredom strikes, I can hear the pots and pans chant my name. I like to cook, I love to cook. It is a way for me to keep myself occupied, to keep my insanity at bay.

The food stops tummies from growling, feeding people is one of my many passions (especially those who cannot cook to save themselves).

Sometimes I whip up dishes heavy in tastes, but I normally try to be simple and light. After all, isn’t life good if it is simple and straight forward? I love potatoes (this is supposedly good carbohydrate), prefer lean meat, and go berserk by introducing loads of vegetables. If rice is absolutely necessary, I will opt for brown rice over polished rice (I am a rice lover in disguise).

Self-styled fusion is a good way to go, you get to take shortcuts (less chopping, cutting and cleaning) to cook up a storm. However Chinese style home cooking is what I grew up with, thus it is sometimes necessary to drag myself through the lengthy process to satisfy the craving. As for my bowl of steaming hot soup, herbal will always be at the top of my list.

I feel like cooking, anybody up for some feeding?

2012 the year of the Dragon

My old wishes remain valid for this new year:
* Health for family and friends.
* A prosperous and joyous year ahead for all.
* Happiness all around.
* Better lives for all homeless people/animals.

In addition, I would also like to achieve the below:
* To become a thinner me (by eating less).
* Increase fitness level (I am in Limbo now).
* To retain my youth (as if I have any).
* Inner peace.

I have no need for pretty clothes or good food, all I want is a decent and peaceful life. Hopefully people will remember me as a good person when I am gone one day.

The most important of all, I wish for my dearest friend to be happy on the other side. This is your year old pal.

Top 50 Male Models - Andrej Pejic (ranked # 18)

Father is Croatian, mother is Serbian. Born in Tuzla, Bosnia and Herzegovina; left in the 90's with his family from the war ravaged country eventually settling in Melbourne Australia.

From WWD profile December 20, 2010: "Since the fashion industry first began asking “Who’s the blonde girl?” at the Paris men’s shows in June (2010), 19-year- old Serbian Australian model Andrej Pejic has emerged as a poster boy for fashion androgyny."
 
In January 2011, Andrej walked for Jean Paul Gaultier in his men's show and for the January 2011 couture show, eventually appearing in the Spring/Summer 2011 JPG campaign with Karolina Kurkova. The same season, he appeared in the Marc by Marc Jacobs campaign. Named one of OUT Magazine's 100 Most Compelling People of 2011.

To squeeze himself into female garments, he was forced to reduce his waist from 29 to 25. I would like to be like him, however I think I will send myself to the grave before reaching 29 haha!

A dream remains a dream.

What I am reading

Ship of Magic by Robin Hobb – book one of The Liveship Traders.

Wizardwood – a sentient wood. The most precious commodity in the world. Like many other legendary wares it comes only from the Rain River Wilds. But only a liveship fashioned from wizardwood can negotiate the perilous waters of the Rain Wild Rivers, and liveships are difficlt to come by. Rare and valuable, they will quicken only when three family members – from successive generations have died upon their deck.

The liveship Vivacia is about to undergo her quickening. As Althea Vestrits’ father is carried to her deck in his death-throes Althea waits with mixed feelings for the ship that se loves more than anything in the world to be awaken.

But Althea’s dream of taking her father’s place at Vivacia’s helm is not to be, for her family have other plans… And the dark, charming pirate, Kennit, also lusts after such a ship: he well knows the power of wizardwood and has plans of his own…

Old memories of 2010

I came across 2 items which brought me back to the year 2010. The first was a book titled Tetanus by a friend and author Stephen Teoh – signed and dated 26th September 2010, while the second was a hematite rosary from a friend who was working in Philippines back then. They are both back in Penang now, but the origins of these two treasures remains significant.

Time flies, people grow older by the second. We may not linger in this physical world forever, however memories of us and our doings shall be eternal.

Be good and be kind, to all kinsmen as well as living creatures.

May the new year of 2012 bring peace and love.

2012: Nothing but words

After a really long absence from my blog, I return only to discover all images in my previous posts have been lost. There is no way for my to repost them as I have lost almost all of them. Along with them gone are the memories, precious memories.