Dog attack!
Yesterday morning, before their daily morning walk, my two lovely dogs, Almond and Berry, ran around the garden, sniffing the grass. They looked so cute that I decided to take some pictures of them.
I got ready my digital camera and walked up to Berry, who was busy sniffing away at a corner. I squatted in front of her and aimed my camera at her. At first, she turned away, but when she saw that I was so persistant on taking her picture, she finally relented, or so I thought. She sat down and looked at me, giving me her usual sweet grin. Then, as I was about to click, she suddenly pounced on me. I lost my balance and fell backwards, and at the same time, clicked on my camera. This resulted in the above photo. I landed on my butt, and she started licking my face. Almond joined in the "fun" and "attacked" me from the back, and my camera fell to the ground. My dad quickly grabbed it before the dogs decided to go for it. Luckily, besides a few scratches (*sob!*), my camera still works just as fine as before.
Later in the afternoon, as punishment for their morning attack, for their daily afternoon apple-feed, I got them to "pose" for me (picture on the left) before giving them their apples. Almond (the one on the right), as usual, was drooling. They looked so cute that I "forgave" them. Well, who can be angry with dogs that cute and adorable?
Almond and Berry, you guys rock, man!!! (*muack!*)
Zzzzz..........
I have the habit of sleeping late (usually after midnight) and waking up early (usually about 7.30AM). This results in loads of sleepyness during the day, especially when I'm teaching. Oops! ;p
One afternoon (which is my sleepy-est part of the day) some time ago, while one of my students was playing a piece of music to me on the piano, I stood behind her to look at her score, and also to prevent myself from falling asleep (I fall asleep easily while seated). Halfway through the piece, I stumbled and nearly fell over her. That was when I opened my eyes and quickly steadied myself. That was also when I realised I had fallen asleep while standing!
There was also another time (also in the afternoon), I was listening to a student playing scales when I suddenly found myself at a clinic, in front of a doctor. He was prescribing some pills and vitamins for me. Then out of nowhere, somebody asked me something and I replied with a loud "Vitamin C!". That woke me up and I realized that I had been dreaming about the clinic scene. That "somebody asked me something" was actually my student asking me which scale would I like her to play next, and I had said "Vitamin C" instead of "C Major"! No wonder she gave me a funny look!
Nowadays, I still subconsciously fall asleep but I'm trying very hard to keep myself awake by eating sweets and drinking lots of tea, though the latter doesn't work at all for me. The only effective remedy is for me to sleep early, something which I have to discipline myself to do so.
Spidermania
One corner of my bedroom's ceiling is tenanted by a group of spiderwebs. The fengshui there must be good, because the other corners are unoccupied. Occasionally, I could see one or two of its residents "resting at home". As I'm afraid of, and at the same time, hate spiders, I left them alone. My only hope is that they don't multiply! Imagine sleeping in a room with spiderwebs for a ceiling! YUKS!!! At the moment, the only person who's willing to get rid of them for me is my mum, but as she's now busy helping out at her friend's handicraft shop, I don't want to bother her with it.
I remember some years back, a friend and I went to a local nature reserve park to take photos of a group of migratory birds. Armed with a camera and tripod each, we set out very early in the morning to avoid the crowd.
The weather that morning was very cool and fresh, and the serenity of the park put us completely in a holiday mood. We set out to search for the birds. Along the way, we could see different types of birds...and spiders. As there were many trees all around, there were also many spiders and their webs. Luckily my friend is totally fearless of them, so I used her as a shield. I made her walk ahead of me while I crouched and walked behind her. So in case there're any webs across our path, she would be the first to get it. Haha! How clever of me! My friend didn't mind at all as she knew about my fear of spiders.
At one point, we reached a junction which was lined with rows of very tall trees. There, in front of us, was a very huge spiderweb hanging between two trees right above our path. There was also a huge spider in the middle of it. My friend wanted to continue walking, but I simply refused. I refused to walk under it. I imagined the whole web-cum-spider landing on me if I were to walk under it. EEKS!!! In the end, in order to make me walk so that we won't miss the migratory birds, my friend suggested we throw stones or anything we could get hold of at the web to break it. Brilliant idea! We collected as many stones and twigs as we could and started throwing them at the web. It must have been a super-extraordinary web, because no matter what, we just couldn't break it! In the end, left with no choice, my friend grabbed me and dashed under it. Fortunately, it didn't land on me.
We finally found what we were looking for and started to set up our equipments. It was an awesome sight. The birds were sun-bathing on the waters, and the scene was enhanced by the color of the rising sun. It was simply beautiful. At that moment, I felt something ticklish inside the T-shirt I was wearing. I took a look... and screamed. A tiny spider had somehow found its way inside my T-shirt. As I was busy trying to get rid of it, the birds were busy taking off. My screams had somehow frightened them. Unsurprisingly, I received a scolding from my friend. I had destroyed her hopes of getting the birds on film. In the end, I treated her to lunch to make amends, and luckily for me, her anger had long died down. She said we could always come back again the same time the following year to watch them. A truly forgiving and kind-hearted girl!
In order not to make it a wasted trip, we took some photos of other birds and even a close-up of an inch-worm.
The next time I enter the park, I'll make sure I come in a space suit. That way, no amount of spiders or spiderwebs could scare me!
The Art of Cooking III: Lemon Meringue Pie
My teacher taught us how to bake Lemon Meringue Pie one day. I looked forward to it because I heard that it was a very delicious type of dessert. After collecting the necessary ingredients, we proceeded to making it.
I made a lovely dough for the crust, then the fillings for the pie, and finally, the meringue. It was made by beating egg whites and sugar together until it became so firm that it stuck to the bowl when you turned the bowl upside down. I spreaded the meringue onto the pie and put it in the oven to bake. Soon, it was time for me to collect it.
When I opened the oven door, I saw that the meringue had somehow "risen" (I don't know how!) and it was stuck to the grill above it. It was also burnt. I swore I had the temperature adjusted correctly. Anyway, I used a spatula to "dislocate" the meringue from the grill but to no avail. It was firmly stuck. I tried a few more times and was about to ask a classmate for help when I saw my teacher walking towards my direction. In my panic, I yanked the pie out. I nearly cried. The meringue was still stuck to the grill so that it was now "hanging" from it, while I had the remains of the pie in my hands. My teacher was now beside me. She looked at what I was holding and asked me what it was. I told her and she asked about the meringue. I said it was still in the oven. She opened it, took a look inside, and asked me to clean it up. Then she walked away. I guessed she didn't know then, whether to laugh or to cry.
The Art of Cooking II: Rock Buns
I took up cookery in secondary school and that proved to be the worst nightmare for me.
I was taught to make rock buns (a type of biscuit) during one lesson. I followed the given recipe dutifully, and to my delight, my rock buns turned out beautifully. As much as I would like to try it immediately, it was too hot for me to do so, so I decided to try them only when I reached home.
The first person I saw was my mum, so I was very eager to let her try it first. I didn't know how hard they were until she tried one. She took a bite and when her teeth couldn't sink into it, she tried it again with the left side of her teeth, then the right side, and in the end, she threw it into the dustbin in frustration. It landed with a loud "plonk". She asked me what kind of biscuit was it and how come it was so hard. I told her it was called "rock bun" and she said it certainly lived up to its name! She refused to try another one so I tried it myself. It was so hard that I could kill someone with one throw. In the end, I threw all away. I was very disappointed but at the same time, comforted by the fact that I was the only one in the world that turned buns into "rocks".
The Art of Cooking I : Eggs
A few months ago, I decided to have hard-boiled eggs for breakfast for my sister and me.
I took three from the refrigerator, put them into a small pot, put it on the stove, lit it and waited for them to be cooked. I guess those who know how to boil eggs will notice that one important step is missing in the above procedure. Yes! Water! I had forgotten to add in water! I didn't notice at all and later, completely forgot about the eggs until I heard a loud popping sound coming from the kitchen. My sis and I rushed in to see what had happened, and that was when I remembered the pot of eggs.
I opened the cover and saw three exploded and completely disfigured eggs. The bottom of the pot was burnt and there was smoke coming out of it. My sis gave me so fierce a glare that I thought I was going to end up like the eggs. I threw them away and had a hard time scrapping their remaining parts which were burnt and stuck to the inside of the pot. I also had to explain to my parents later why the bottom of the pot was burnt. My dad felt so hopeless for me that he kept quiet and walked away. My mum on the other hand, told me that one day, I'll burn the whole house down.
In the end, my sis and I gave eggs a miss and we had to settle with the same old, boring bread-and-jam breakfast.
Where I Live
I live in a house in an old estate on a tiny island somewhere on earth.
My estate is situated below road level, and it has two "openings" (entrances-cum-exits) for cars but we're allowed to use only one. So in case of disasters, we would all be long dead trying to get out of it. It also has a long flight of stairs leading up to the main road. I didn't know I was living in hell until one day, I saw a message scribbled on the wall next to the flight of stairs, saying "Stairway to Heaven".
My estate is a maze for some visitors. They take a few seconds to enter and half a day to exit. Sometimes, you could see them driving around in circles just trying to find the exit. Once, I saw a cab following a car, thinking that it was heading out. Unfortunately for him, it was a resident coming home from work. After "escorting" the resident back to his house, the cab performed the merry-go-round again. I didn't read of any missing cabbies after that, so I guessed he must have somehow found his way out. Well-done, mister!
My house is an old double-storey house with quite a big garden. It is surrounded by an old drain. The workers were suppose to upgrade the drain, but decided that they had better things to do. Instead, they upgraded the tiny "park" in front of my house. Unfortunately, it still looks the same as before. Benches were supposed to be erected along its pedestrian path, but we're encouraged to imagine their existence.
I live with my parents and sister. My brother used to live with us but he decided to abandon us after getting himself a wife. About two years ago, he brought us two lovely dogs and they have been a great joy to us since.
So if you happen to be in my estate and you see a house with two lovely golden retrievers, that's my house. And for those who want a trip to Heaven, remember, it's just a stairway away.
My Neighbours
Everyone has neighbours. They are part of our lives. They make our lives interesting, which is why I think I have wonderful neighbours.
A few years ago, one of them borrowed a book from me. It must have been a very interesting book, because I haven't seen it since. Neither have I seen my neighbour.
Another neighbour has a huge rambutan tree full of delicious-looking rambutans in his garden. As the tree is huge, half of it hangs over the fence of the house besides his. The residents of this house, being ever so helpful, helped themselves to the rambutans when he's not around. Then they helped him take care of the tree by trimming part of it (the part which hangs over their fence) and throwing it back into his garden. How thoughtful!
Then there're neighbours who fight over parking spaces in front of their houses by putting pots of plants, chairs or whatever they can think of, to reserve the spaces. One of them even reversed his car into his neighbour's potted plants when she refused to remove them.
I would also like to give kudos to a handful of neighbours. They always let their dogs poo anywhere they like, without clearing up. Sometimes, they even let their dogs poo outside someone's house! I think they should have the poo thrown back into their faces!
There is another neighbour who drives a branded sports car with an engine so noisy that you could hear it miles away. As he stays just opposite my house, I have the "honour" of experiencing noise pollution. He likes to leave his car engine on and blast the car radio at top volume, so loud that even the deaf could hear it, and he would leave it this way for a few hours. Then before driving off, he'll step on the accelerator long and hard, as though he's getting ready for a race. Another habit of his is that he likes to slam his car door really hard. Many times, I wished that his car door will just fall off and land on his legs. Then he won't be able to drive and I can have peace again.
All said, I still think I have wonderful neighbours.
TV Kid
I love watching television programmes so much that I have to watch it everyday. To some, it may be a waste of time, but I just can't live without it.
There are three TVs in my house: one in the living room, one in the dining room, and an old black-and-white one in my parents' room. Everyday, the first thing I do before my meals is to turn on the TV. I have to watch it while eating. When I was young, I was so engrossed in the programmes shown during my meals that I would be completely oblivious to my surroundings. I wouldn't have noticed even if my house were to collapse (touch wood!) on me. I would also forget to eat. By the time I remembered that I still had food waiting for me to finish, my whole plate of food would be gone. My dad had hidden it. I had to endure a scolding before he would return the food to me. But then, my dad still had to hide my many plates of food and I still had to endure many scoldings, many times after that incident before I learnt my lesson.
My favourite TV channel is Discovery Travel and Living. I especially love " Intimate Escapes", "Great Country Inns", "Top 10 Countdowns", "Ticket to Indulgence" and "Globe Trekker". I can "visit" the beautiful places and I always imagine myself being there. As I love to travel, this channel suits me just fine! I'll jot down addresses of places that catch my eye, and find out more about them from the internet. My next step is to be there personally, but that'll have to depend on my schedule.
When I was on vacation in my younger days, I would make sure that the TV was turned on in my hotel room. Sometimes, when a good show happened to be on, I would rather finish watching the show than to go sight-seeing. The latter could wait. My parents would be so pissed off with me that they would suggest I could either bring the TV along, or glue my eyeballs to it.
Fortunately, my craze for TV has more or less died down by now. I still watch TV everyday but I make sure I limit my time to watching it. I also remember to eat now. I wouldn't want my food to "vanish" again. :)
Naughty, Naughty Childhood
I was a very naughty girl when I was young.
When I was in primary school, we had big and long blue tables which we were made to sit around. A classmate and me, we liked to bully this cute and plum bespectacled girl. One day, she happened to sit opposite us, and I, itching to do something naughty, tore little pieces of paper, squashed them into little balls, and threw them at her. One of the paper balls landed inside her glasses and she started to cry. Instead of feeling sorry, my friend and I giggled and pretended nothing happened. Luckily for us and unfortunately for her, the teacher was too busy writing on the blackboard to notice what happened. Now, come to think of it, I really regretted doing what I did. I would like to say "sorry" to her, wherever she is. I hope she's happy and doing well. Hopefully, she has forgotten about this incident.
I also enjoyed going to school early to catch worms and grasshoppers in my school field. Everyday, a few of my friends and I, we would arrive in school with plastic bags and start our hunting expedition. We would select a different spot each and start digging for worms. I guess our principle was not too happy with the "holey" field. We would also compete to see who caught the most worms. At that time, I thought nothing of catching worms with my bare hands. After showing off our worms to each other, we would do something really wicked. We would take a worm out and pull it till it broke in two. Then we would put it on the ground and see how it survived with an extra " body". Surprisingly, both parts of the worm were still alive, as if they were two different worms. We were very fascinated with them then. After our worm-hunt, we would divert our attention to grasshoppers. They had about the same fate as their wormy friends. Now, the sight of worms and grasshoppers would, sort of, make my hair stand. I guess this is called "retribution". Just for your information, my school has been entirely rebuilt and the field is completely gone. The worms must be having the last laugh now!
My house was and still is "infested" with lizards. If I were to collect rent from them, I'd be rich by now! When I was still a kid, my sis and I once caught a lizard (yes, with our bare hands again) and clipped off its tail with a hair clip. I don't remember washing the hair clip after that. I think we messed it up with other hair clips, and it was "good luck" to whoever used it later on. It didn't occur to us then, that the other hair clips were also "infected". Anyway, back to the lizard's tail. We watched as the lizard scrambled away, leaving its wriggling tail behind. We squatted beside it and looked in awe. It was later that we were told, that a lizard's tail if broken, can grow back again.
Another naughty thing I did was with beetles, which I dislike. I would catch them and put them into little plastic containers, put the caps on, and shake the containers as if I were shaking a maracas.
Come to think of it, the things I did were very sadistic and cruel. But then, at that time, that was the fun and curious part of childhood. Compared to the kids nowadays, who seem to behave like little adults, my childhood was much more fun and interesting.
Rainy Moods
It has been raining these past few days as well as today, and I love it as well as hate it.
I love it if it rains when I'm staying at home and not going out. I feel very protected. Here I am, totally safe and dry at home, and outside, it's wet and raining cats and dogs. I simply love this feeling. I also love hearing the falling rain, especially at night, when everything is quiet. It is also the best time to sleep when everything is so cool. Sometimes when that happens, I'll lay in bed and listen to the rain, and imagine little night creatures scurrying frantically to find a hiding place. I also love watching the world go by when it rains.
I hate it if it rains when I'm not at home. The thought of walking through puddles of water and dirty water splashing up my legs really put me off. Also, even if I'm indoors, the floors will be wet with wet shoes and dripping umbrellas, and you could see dirty marks on the floors. If I were to take a bus when it rains, the bus stops will be crowded and so will the buses. If I'm sitting in the bus, I'll wince when someone with a wet bag and umbrella stands next to me. What is worst is that as the windows will be closed, and if the bus is not air-conditioned, the whole bus will be so stuffy and stink of sweat. Rainy days also make it harder to get a cab as the cab companies' phonelines will be jammed.
In short, rainy days are both a joy and pain.
Eye Trouble
This morning, on my way to the airport to pick up my dad, an eye-care advertisement over the radio reminded me of my near-encounter with lasik surgery a few years back.
I'm short-sighted with an average of 250 degrees in each eye, including astigmatism. Although this is considered not too deep a degree, I still wear either glasses or contact lenses everyday, especially when working, watching television or driving. This brings me further back to the days when I was ignorant and foolish.
When I was young, my eye sight was perfect. My short-sightedness started when I was in secondary school. Some of my classmates were wearing glasses and I found that they looked really cool, and believe it or not, I thought it was FUN to wear glasses. Thus, I decided that I also wanted to wear glasses. So when I read, I purposely put the book very near to my face, or I read while lying down, or under badly lit surroundings. As for watching television, I also tried to sit as near it as possible. I was that out of my mind! When I finally had difficulty reading what was written on the blackboard during classes, I was so happy that the first thing I did when I went home that day, was to tell my parents I needed glasses. Thinking that I would be fussed over, instead, I was scolded by them for not taking good care of my eyes. Well, I wasn't bothered about the scolding then, because I was too impatient for them to take me to an optician. My first pair made me look like a nerd. Many pairs of glasses later, I still look like a nerd.
Then a few years ago, my sis (who's also short-sighted) and I decided to try lasik surgery. We went to an eye surgeon at our local eye hospital for a check-up, and what do you know, he said we were perfect candidates for the surgery (I guess he said that to every would-be patient). We made appointments with him for the surgery, and we were shown a short video of it. That was when we started having second thoughts after watching how they sliced open the cornea, and the red beam of light pointing at the iris. Plus, I think the narrater mentioned something about a burnt smell during the procedure. My sis and I looked at each other and walked out of the room without finishing watching it. We asked a nurse more about the surgery and she was honest enough to tell us that our short-sightedness will still come back if we don't take good care of our eyes. Also, when we grow old, we'll still need glasses as the result of the surgery is not permanent. She also told us about the side effects. That was it! We decided to reconsider. We were also told it would cost us a few thousand dollars per eye. The day before our supposedly first operation, we called the doctor and told him we decided not to do it. No matter how he persuaded us, we stuck very firmly to our decision. Up till now, we do not regret not going for the surgery at all, especially after reading about operations that went wrong, and also about a lady who was blinded by it. It's not worth spending so much money to "buy" misfortunes. Of course, there're also successful cases, but we prefer to remain pessimistic when it involves the eyes.
In conclusion, I rather look like a nerd than to go blind. Eyes are windows to our soul. We must really take good care of them, and for those who are thinking of going for lasik surgery, I'll advise you to think again.
The Supernatural III: Cupboards
I was in England five years ago with a friend, and we shared a hotel room the first night. It was a lovely hotel and our room was big. It had two very comfortable beds , and opposite the beds was a white cupboard. I opened it to take a look. It was empty. I was hoping there would be extra pillows that I could hug to sleep, but to my disappointment, there were none. Since we were only there for a night, we didn't bother to unpack our luggages. We had a good night sleep until the next morning, when I was awakened by little tapping sounds coming from inside the cupboard. My friend heard it too. I wasn't afraid as our room was already very bright at that time of day, so I went to the cupboard and opened it. It was as empty as the last time I saw it.
Then I listened to where the tappings came from. They came from a plank near the top of the cupboard. I bravely touched the bottom of the plank, and I felt slight movements on it. It felt like someone was lightly pressing on the plank at regular intervals. I quickly closed the cupboard and told my friend what I felt. She nearly freaked out. Luckily, we were moving to stay with a lady that afternoon. By the time we arrived at her house, it was getting dark.
Once inside the house, we were given a cosy room (not as big as the hotel room, though) to stay . There was two single beds and yes, another cupboard. A dark brown antique cupboard, which had a door that couldn't close properly. This time, it was beside one of the beds (mine, unfortunately). I didn't want to open it. We unpacked, and went down for dinner. After dinner, we retreated back to our room and chit-chatted on our beds. A while later, my friend went to the other end of the room to answer a phone call. I remained seated on my bed and started to read a book while waiting for my friend.
Then I heard it. It was coming from the cupboard. It sounded like a man groaning in pain. It let out a few more groans. My friend was too busy talking to hear it. I really didn't know (even now) how I found the courage to yank open the cupboard. Inside was two old computers and heaps of wires. Surprisingly, the sound stopped the moment the cupboard was opened. I quickly closed it and tried not to think about it and focused on the book. Alas, I kept thinking about the sound. I kept replaying the sound in my head, and kept asking myself whether I really heard it. To my dismay, I was sure I really heard it. I didn't tell my friend about it and I don't intend to tell her as she'll really freak out.
That night, I had a nightmare. I dreamt that a white seal with vampire fangs came out from the cupboard and chased me around the room. It had bloodshot eyes and a very evil look on its face. It was so scary that I cried out in my sleep and that woke me up. I had a hard time going back to sleep after that. All I could think of was the seal and it's fangs. The next morning, I pretended nothing happened. Luckily, the next few days were very peaceful, but what happened that dreadful night has stayed with me up till now.
The Supernatural II: The Ritual
My beloved grandma passed away about eight years ago. Infections to her frail body took her away from us.
I remember the night of the Buddhist ritual at her wake. That night happened to be warm and stuffy, and we were mostly drenched in sweat. There wasn't any wind at all. There were fans around but they didn't help much in lowering the heat. We gathered together to listened to instructions given by the monks, telling us what to do and what not to do. Then the time for the ritual arrived.
The air was still and warm when the monks started chanting. The rest of us were on our knees, praying silently. As the chanting became louder, we started to feel little gushes of wind. I told myself that this was just a coincidence. But when the chanting was at its height, the gushes of wind became unmistakenably strong. The canvases of the tent were flapping wildly and some plastic chairs toppled over. Lighter items were blown all around. We were still kneeling, and we could feel the powerful wind blowing at us. It was really unbelievable! My cousins and I casted knowing glances at each other. As the chanting came to a halt, the wind also died down quickly. Then, the still and warm air returned. It was a simply amazing and unbelievable experience! Till now, we still occasionally talk about what happened that night.
The Supernatural I: Midnight Lesson
I have always been interested in the supernatural. I love to listen to stories and watch movies about them. A few encounters with them strengthened my beliefs in the supernatural.
One night, years ago, during the seventh lunar month, which is also the "ghost month" according to the Chinese, I suddenly woke up at 3am. I hardly wake up in the middle of the night, but that night, I did. The first thing I heard was someone playing the flute. The "music" comes from outside my window, a short distance away, and it had a sort of echo-y sound to it. The next thing I heard was a man's voice. It seemed as though he was coaching whoever was playing the flute. At first, I was wondering, who in the world would give lessons at that time of night, but then I thought, maybe it was something from the other world. I didn't know why I wasn't afraid at that time. Maybe because my sister was sleeping beside me. I just laid in bed and listened. I also pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming... I wasn't... I really heard it. Then from afar, dogs started howling. I was tempted to look outside my window, but decided against it. I didn't want to see what I didn't want to see. And all of a sudden, everything was quiet, including the dogs. It was really creepy. The next morning, when I told my family, there was a mixture of beliefs and disbeliefs. Then came the conclusion that I was dreaming.
But I know I wasn't.
Yesterday morning, before their daily morning walk, my two lovely dogs, Almond and Berry, ran around the garden, sniffing the grass. They looked so cute that I decided to take some pictures of them.
Later in the afternoon, as punishment for their morning attack, for their daily afternoon apple-feed, I got them to "pose" for me (picture on the left) before giving them their apples. Almond (the one on the right), as usual, was drooling. They looked so cute that I "forgave" them. Well, who can be angry with dogs that cute and adorable?
