And another thing...

Whey hey! For more bumbling updates, read me here:

http://saggiessgp.blogspot.com/

It's still W.I.P but at least one post is up!

See you there!

Lovely Intermission

Hello. 'Tis I, Saggs. The one with the droopy derriere/bottom/arse...oh you know the rest.

Well, here I am. Back. Not just on blogosphere but back, Back.

Back on our sunny isle, Singapore. Back where we started.

For good.

Oh wow. That felt somewhat surreal. Typing those words, deliberately putting them in italics for ahem, added effect. Heh.

The past few days have flown by in a blur. We've been blessed with welcome home parties, we've located our rather elusive contractor, sorted out some administrative matters, left others in limbo. We've had our fill of local delights - teo chew mui, satay beehoon, prata, fish soup noodles, bandung, the works. I've had way too many durians and a hoarse voice to show for it. We're in the midst of helping a cousin sort out the nitty gritties for his wedding next weekend.

There are friends and family to catch up with but this time there's no time crunch, no frantic need to find pockets of time to slot in one more meetup.

We're pacing ourselves. And I've had little time to think about, well, how I feel about moving back. But that's a good thing.

Anyhow...I'm not quite sure whether I'll continue this blog or start another so in the meantime, I leave with you this wonderfully composed post I saved for a rainy day. It's one by my sis.

As some of you may know, she visited us in London and in between, went on a whirlwind tour of Venice/Florence, Edinburgh and Paris. I asked her to be a guest blogger - to recount our adventures, and to give us her POV of her holiday.

I think she's done a brilliant job and I'd like to share it with y'all. So here she is with her maiden blog entry, my chichi.

Enjoy!

+++

This is my month-long overdue guest blogger contribution regarding my recent Europe adventure. I’ve got a few caveats before I begin.

1. As it’s been a month, “time has dimmed my memory”, quoting a line from the movie The Student Prince.
2 I haven’t been writing or typing for quite a while so you must pardon my odd phrasing, bad spelling and what-nots.
3. I’m long-winded.
4. Take some of the things I write here tongue-in-cheek.

I made my unholy three-week pilgrimage to Europe in late May and June, courtesy of my hubby and after relentless “coercions” and “pleadings” via emails, smses, and face-to-face “confrontations” with my lovely Qiubio (read: sis) about visiting her in London.

My hubby, Von, says he let me go so I’d spare him the constant weeping and gnashing of teeth, and regular fretting about not being able to visit my dream destination and my bemoaning of lost opportunities i.e. my regrets that we never made it to Europe for our honeymoon even though we were supposed to.

I must have been such a complainer and nag that my leaving for Europe immediately dulled the pain of his sponsoring my trip (he works while I’m just a lazy stay-at-home mum).

So after “pressure” from both sides of the world, I made my lonely but determined sojourn to the European Continent on 20 May 2008 on British Airways (I had an encounter with a grumpy-whumpy stewardess who kept yawning at me and snapped at me to “get out of the way” when she had to make her way to some cabinet to get me a pack of toiletries).

Though my trip included London, Scotland, Bath, Cotswold, Stonehenge, Rome, Florence, Venice and Paris, I shall write only about the parts where I experienced with Syl (or in the case of Venice, with Dennis and Danielle too). Owing to lack of space, I’ll only mention the highlights of each place, leaving Syl to fill in the blanks.

Highlights of London aka food tour

The first day in London was a bit of a daze because of long travel and time difference but I remember somewhat clearly my experience at Gordon Ramsay’s Claridges at Claridges Hotel (small trivia: the cast of Sex and the City stayed at this hotel when they were in London for the premiere).

I was quite excited about going to Claridges not just because we were celebrating Dennis’ birthday, but because I was going to try the gastronomy delights of a celebrity one-Michelin star chef. Was I going to face hell, fire and brim-stone from Gordon? As expected, these chefs are hardly ever at their own establishments since they are so busy filming. I would have loved to study his botox-free forehead.

I was particularly impressed by the appetizer which was ooh-la-la. What struck me about the pork belly main course that I ordered was how it looked and tasted uncannily like our local sio bak. Was Gordon trying to pull a fast one on me? It had a nice layer of crispy skin like the best of our local roast pork but I think the sauce and presentation differentiated it from our coffee shop version.

The ravioli was a tad too salty for me, although Dennis found it okay. Dessert was pretty good, and the coffee and quality chocolate truffles offered as after-dinner sweets, rounded the evening nicely. But that was before we froze our butts off travelling back to Dennis’ and Syl’s abode. A somewhat surreal experience (cos of jetlag) but a lovely night, nonetheless.

Before I left London, I had the pleasure of trying Jamie Oliver’s Fifteen. His Italian outfit is smart casual in feel versus upmarket Claridges which serves French. I liked the pasta that Danielle had. Once again, I ordered pork as a main. This time it wasn’t roast pork style but rather substantial slices of pork cooked over 12 hours, leaving the meat tender and moist. The tiramisu cheesecake that I had for dessert was not too bad. What impressed me most was the unpretentious setting and the fact that Fifteen was set up to arm ex-cons and wayward youths with skills to improve their lot in life.

My verdict: Gordon 3.5/5. Jamie 3/5. And an additional 0.5 to Jamie for his altruism.

Apart from trying Claridges and Fifteen, which was kindly arranged by Syl and Dennis, the couple also brought me to Fortnum & Mason’s for tea. I enjoyed myself as it was so quintessential English that I felt almost like a queen while trying to politely scoff down scones and quaint little cakes with wild abandon.

On the topic of queen, Dennis, Syl, little Danielle and I jiggled like Dancing Queens when we caught Abba’s Mama Mia at Leichester Square. The songs were so catchy that the audience – even the grandmamas next to us, ignoring potential hernia and hipbone fractures – broke into dance during the encore. We all agreed that the cast was selected for their acting rather than singing talent. The exception was the lady cast in the role of Mama. But the cute storyline, familiar ditties and good acting allowed us to overlook the vocal inadequacies.

Highs and lows of Scotland

Actually, the only “low” of the trip was not seeing the “Heilan Coos” (Cows). Syl and I had been so absorbed with our coffee (me) and souvenir-viewing (she) during a stop that we didn’t realise that a number of people in our tour group had taken a short walk behind the café to say helloooo to the “Heilan Coos”. We were bemused by our silliness.

One of the interesting bits of the tour was hearing the tour guide in a kilt do a dramatised account of Mary Queen of Scots’ life. The funny story of how her head rolled would forever be ingrained in the deep recesses of my mind. And Syl’s.

To cheer us up after the “sordid” tale of palace intrigue, the same Scotsman played an obligatory tune or two on his bagpipes. Problem is, the longer he played, the more out of tune he got. Still, top marks for his story-telling prowess.

The strange thing about the trip to Edinburgh is that I’ve very little recollection of Edinburgh Castle (the must-see place of Edinburgh). All I recall is that I had to queue for a while to get a ticket to go in. And I remember seeing crows. Syl did her own thing while waiting for me as she had been to the castle on a previous trip. I must say that she was an excellent navigator in Edinburgh. I became quite brain-dead when it came to moving around as she was the compass. .

Our trip to the Scottish Highlands was awesome as the scenery was the stuff of legends. To get us in the highlands mood, the tour guide who reminded me of French actor Gerard Depardieu (I think it made Syl’s day to hear a real Scottish accent finally), played celtic music from Rob Roy and the bagpipes version of that famous Titantic tune.

To play the Titantic song just before our ferry ride across the Loch Ness, didn’t go down well with me. But we made it across the extremely deep lake with nary a dip in its icy waters. We were spared hyperthermia and didn’t get to greet Nessie, the Loch Ness monster. I must say that seeing Loch Ness was really one of the highlights of my European tour. With the so-blue water enveloped by bewitching scenery, the lake so vast and air so fresh, it felt magical.

The other important thing I gained from the tour: Old MacDonald was probably Scottish, while McDonald’s hints at an Irish ancestry.

Bon Giorno (hello) Venice!

I travelled by train from Florence to Venice, where I was met by Dennis, Syl and Danielle at the train station.

I was rather looking forward to Venice as it’s said to be romantic. Was I going to find a Romeo or Cassanova since Italian men are known to be amorous and flirtatious? Either I held back due to constant flashbacks of a familiar male countenance and three cute girls, Danielle was mistaken for my daughter or I’ve a You-Don’t-Mess-with-the-Zohan look, I didn’t have much success in that department. Okay, I thought at least let me admire the male species from afar.

My hopes were dashed when the gondolier that we hired for our romantic ride through the canals of Venice was not Mr Universe, Mr Manhunt or even an Owen “broken nose” Wilson. Mr Average was hired simply because he was the cheapest. Syl and I could only look at a passing Tom Cruise gondolier wistfully, knowing that we had some extra euros on us. The lesson is: you may get less than what you bargained for. Nevertheless, the gondola ride was well-worth the sacrifice and the 80 euros that we paid.

I had expected gondoliers to break into O Sole Mio in tenor voices as they rode down the canals. Alas, the operatic outbursts that we heard came from:

1. A man singing in the bathroom (not Dennis according to Syl)
2. A Korean tourist who surprised us with his spontaneity as he stepped out of a water bus; and
3. A mysterious man seated in a gondola that went past our restaurant as we were imbibing wine.

The thing about Venice is that it’s populated with more tourists than locals. Locals number only 60,000. As tourists started driving prices up, the locals decided that it was way too expensive to live in Venice. You can imagine that Venice is like a ghost town at night. Many houses have been left empty and the very narrow streets are eerily quiet. If you ignore this, you’ll appreciate the romantic and old feel of the place. A lot of buildings have been left intact so Venice has a lot of character and flavour. With canals running through the place and travel water-based, Venice is a very unique experience.

Food was good in Venice. Particularly memorable was the squid-ink pasta at a cosy joint that wasn’t a tourist hangout. We had decided that we would try to follow Lonely Planet’s food suggestions, and save for one eatery, everything was mama mia!

Don’t forget Paris

The Hotel de Paris selected by Syl was located in the Montmartre area – a good choice as it’s an artist enclave, very colourful and schizophrenic. On one hand, they have the iconic Sacred Heart Chapel on a hill piously overlooking the whole area. Then at street level, there’s Moulin Rouge, sex shops, strip joints, peep shows…very strange bedfellows. In between, they have cafes, art shops and little museums. During the weekends, artists of varying talent come out to play. They sell their works in the markets, while portrait artists approach passers-by to sketch their likeness in exchange for some moolah.

The view from the Sacred Heart is breathtaking in more ways than one. It’s the second-best place to go for a view of Paris after the Eiffel Tower. After what felt like a thousand steps up to the top, I was breathless. The view that greeted me left me gasping…for air. Syl was quite the marathon runner while I felt like Kungfu Panda.

Regarding food, the Wee sisters went so crazy over mussels, we ate at the same restaurant and ordered almost the same dishes three times in as many days. Our cholesterol levels must have gone on an overdrive after the OD on mussels.

Syl and I decided that a day view of the Eiffel Tower was insufficient so we took a night cruise and saw the night version too. It was a heart-stopping moment when we saw the tower glisten in the night like diamonds. Apparently, every hour on the hour at night, sparkling lights come on for 10 minutes, dressing the tower in a resplendent gown.

For me, another memorable excursion was the visit to Museum D’orsay. It was quite an experience to see so many great impressionist works under one roof – works by Cezanne, Degas, Monet, Manet and Van Gogh, to name a few. Too bad I didn’t have more time to view the works in greater detail.

Monet @ Musee d'Orsay

As for The Louvre, I liked I.M. Pei’s controversial architectural piece in the centre. But the museum was so huge I got quite lost, spending about 20 minutes searching for the exit. I also took many, many, many photos of the Mona Lisa. Arriving fairly late at the museum and getting lost left me with very little time at the museum. I realised that I only had time for the Masterpieces Tour. Following the instructions on the audio-guide, I realised half-way through that they featured only three masterpieces, one of which I had already viewed – the Mona Lisa. There can only be that many angles of the Mona Lisa one can photograph, no matter how good the piece is.

The other two masterpieces featured were sculptures. Frankly, I don’t know how to appreciate sculptures unless it’s of the naked David and I had already viewed him in Florence (Kudos to Michelangelo for a great work of art.). I had to force myself to view the two sculptures from different angles (including Venus’ rear end), while listening to comments about how amazing the sculptures are….blah blah blah. Meanwhile, the smarter sibling who without the “benefit” of an audio-guide, had marched her way through a trillion exhibits and snapped a zillion photos.

Paris was quite an adventure to say the least, albeit a good one.

One last thing…

Thanks Qiubio, Dennis and Danielle for having made my holiday so very special for me. I felt really comfortable at your home, and my holiday wouldn’t have been the same without you. Thanks for bringing me around and for providing me with laughter, food and good family company. Love you lots. See you soon in Singapore!

+++

- - FIN - -

In a few hours, the movers will be here. By the end of today, our things will packed away and sealed in carton boxes.

In the same way, so will our lives in London.

Has it really been two years? Sometimes it feels like we've been here much, much longer yet I remember incidents like they were yesterday. Then I take one look at Cheeks and instantly I'm snapped back to reality...

Time has flown by.

Cheeks, walking down H road,
on her way to her FIRST day @ nursery

I started this blog to jot down bits of our lives here. I wanted to document the trials and tribulations of Motherhood, my struggles at cooking (ha!), my experiences as a first-time SAHM. I wanted to have something to look back on - the good, the bad, the tears, the fears, the joy and laughter. I wanted to remember what we did, no matter how trivial or banal they were, and track Danielle's development and milestones.

I've been thinking how I should end my last posting from London. A summary perhaps? So here goes:

Hi. My name is Saggs. Welcome to my blog.

For the past 2 years, my family and I have been living in Southwest London, in the borough of Wandsworth. Some people call these parts, 'The Nappy Valley' because of the droves of families who live here. Our move from Singapore (where we're from) to the UK signalled my first time as a SAHM. If you didn't already know, that stands for 'Stay At Home Mum'.

When Cheeks first arrived to London, she was a month shy of 2.

This is Danielle then:

the day we arrived at Heathrow

Cheeks today:

at Tooting Bec Common

Well, obviously, she's grown. We all have. Not just older, taller, or wider (guess who? Heh heh.) but as a family. London opened a new chapter for us. It gave us our first glimpse of real family life. Our first taste of solid family bonding and togetherness. Before, family time in Singapore was always confined to the weekends and even those were often marred by Papa's frequent callbacks to the office. But here, with the English guarding their personal/family time, their holidays and weekends so possessively, work-life balance vastly improved for Dee and we had him wholly to ourselves. We relished every moment having him with us, and doing things as a family.

When I think about going back to the hustle and bustle of Singapore life, the long hours Dee has to put in for work, the time he has to spend away from us, I'm filled with immeasurable dread. I don't want to seem like a single mum again (it felt that way before). I want our family to be as it was here. I want the three of us, not just two.

Whether it'll revert back to what it was before is still left to be seen. What lies in store for us?

I don't know.

But I don't want to be afraid. So I pray, and I hope you'll pray for us too...

I should end this soon. The computer needs to be shut down and I need to clear the computer table in preparation for the move tomorrow.

But before I go, I want to thank you all for joining me on this wonderful journey. I've enjoyed spending time updating my blog with UK anecdotes and I look forward to more updates of our lives back in Singapore.

Until then...

Goodbye London, hello Singapore!

+++

It seems a shame my last glimpse of London will be from the plane, at a rather shabby Heathrow terminal.

Perhaps more befitting would've been this view of the city from the summit of Parliament Hill, Hampstead - with woodland all around us, the sun on our faces, the breeze carassing our cheeks.

Scenes of London, I think I'll have plenty. But if asked to choose how I'd best remember the city, this would probably be it. It's the scene dearest to me. The one I want etched in memory, and embedded in my heart... forever.

the street where we lived...

One last note on the almost 4 YO...

Cheeks at almost 4:

loves to say:

• I want to go home right straightaway!
• it's not fair! (nothing ever is, kiddo)
• it's really, absolutely the last one/story
  
• that's not nice!
• 'vehicle', 'fabulous', 'pronounce', 'operatic voice'
  
• mummy, I love you ever so much
• 可口可樂
• please, Mummy? Please please, can I?
• When I'm big...
• it's morning time!
• (on the phone) Hello, Papa? Where are you? I want you to come home now.
  

loves to:

• wait for me to begin reading a story before she eats
• race
• tell people what they should or should not do (eg he should not stand so close to the road, she shouldn't litter)
• huff and fold her arms in displeasure
  
• make up silly songs
• sing
  
• pretend she's in a cocoon when she's all wrapped up right after a bath
• drink pink milk (a Lola trait)
• scan items at the supermarket self-checkout stations
• sit on the counter whenever I pay for something
• get my card, cash, receipt at the ATM
  
• charm the pants off commuters in the Tube or on the bus
• get her own vitamin in the morning, pour her own milk
• cover her nose before digging for 'treasure'
• have me run my fingers up and down her arm, her back
• give me hugs, for no reason at all (very manjah)
• drink Milo! Hahahahahaa...
• point out graffitti
  

abhors:

• baths
• going into boutiques (it's boooorrrring, she wails)
• going out!?
• peas, in fact most veggies
• blackcurrent jam
  
• lessons
• going to bed
• the dark
• dogs (loves cats. I wonder why? :P)
• not being able to get a word in
  

Season of Farewells (Part 2)

In response to this week's most FAQ: How are you feeling? I have but one pithy answer-- Wobbly. Like the English weather.

We've been experiencing rather erratic spells of weather here - swaying pendulously from resplendent bursts of sunshine to overcast, gloom and doomey downpours. But most days, the weather just wants to play peekaboo, the naughty thing. It teases us with slivers of sunlight then quickly draws the curtains with thick clouds of grey. It's going to rain, it's not going to rain, not, rain, not - we toss coins, chew our fingers raw, and shoot contemptuous looks at the umbrella, hoping we won't have to use THAT.

So you see, wobbly.

Likewise, my mood.

This week's been tough. Knowing it's our last week in London is tough. The mere thought of not seeing this place for a long long time is excruciating.

I find it difficult to move on yet have no choice. Time leaves me no options. So onward, I trudge.

Yet, despite the undulating emotions - I do have happy spurts - I am aware that God IS Good.

ALL. THE. TIME.

These past 2 years, He's seen to our every need, brought fantastic people into our lives, opened doors for us, healed us, comforted us, strengthened us.

I don't want to think that all good things come to an end. Instead, I want to know that things only get better. I may not see it now. But I'm sure they will.

Afterall, He knows better.

+++

We visited Ros and family in Egham (Surrey) on Tuesday. The initial plan was to board the G1 to Clapham Junction. But as inconsistencies in feeder buses go, G1 never came. So, I had to abort the idea and hopped onto 2 buses instead. Despite the glitch in transportation, I was unfazed. Afterall, the weather was GREAT. No one's allowed to be grumpy or mopey when good weather's in full swing, you know?

We always have a swell time at Ros'. Despite my initial protests to bring my own lunch (didn't want her to be stressed over cooking), I backed down when she assured me she'd whip up 'something simple'.

Riiiight.

Ros' first-class bak chor mee

After lunch, Cheeks attended a music class with Lavigne. She'd attended the same one on a previous occasion and had thoroughly enjoyed it. This time, however, she 'forbade' me to participate so I had no choice but to watch on as the other young 'uns trotted and tumbled with their mummies. She wanted to be independent so I let her. But I did so want to stamp my feet like a hippo and gallop like a pony. Hmph.

After the half-hour class, the 2 girls had time to play in the field next to the music class venue before we all trooped to pick Louisa up from her school.

We had tea back at Ros', followed Louisa to her music class (Lavigne and Cheeks played catch on the field outside with other children, blew bubbles) then all too soon, it was time to say goodbye.

As the South West train pulled up at the station, I took one lingering glance at Egham and said a silent farewell to the family who have enriched our lives so much with their warmth and friendship.

We'll certainly miss Ros and the girls. 10 months of friendship was too short, yet sufficient to seal our friendship. I look forward to catching up with them when they next visit Singapore.

In fact, I can scarcely wait.

Season of Farewells (Part 1)

Women are a sentimental lot. We form attachments easily. We love to reminisce bygone days. We cling onto memories. We find it hard to let go...

Oh, I'm sorry, am I wrong to generalise?

Maybe it's just me. I am exceedingly sentimental. Almost to a fault.

This statue, 'Little Dancer of Fourteen Years' is by famous french artist, Edgar Degas, who was said to have turned to sculpturing when - hampered by deteriorating vision - was forced to give up painting.

When I began taking an interest in Impressionism and the artists who began this revolutionary art movement, I was particularly drawn to Degas because of his choice of subjects - dancers. I always thought he captured them on canvas so beautifully. He never drew them in arabesque, instead chose to show them involved in backstage activities or rehearsing.

And now, I have even more reason to feel an attachment to his work...

Cheeks and I met up with Val and Luke yesterday. To say goodbye.

We've always enjoyed our time with them. We've shared laughs, chatted, watched our children bicker and play well with each other. We've trawled tearooms together, sipped copious amounts of tea, sampled all kinds of cakes and pastries.

So, it seemed apt that our 'last' activity with them would involve all the above.

I chose The Orangery at Kensington Gardens because it's always been very dear to me. Ah, the number of friends and family I entertained within its whitewashed walls. It was THE place I developed the penchant for English tea (the activity, not just the drink). The place where Cheeks, Dee and I first enjoyed tea together. I'll remember fondly the squirrels skirting behind bushes and trees, the beautifully manicured bushes that look like giant 'thimbles' standing in line on the well-shorn lawn.

Cheeks and Luke in motion

I'm rambling...

I'll never look at Degas' 'Little Dancer' the same way again. Coz she was given to me by Val, on her farewell card to me, filled with beautiful, touching words.

Val/Luke - saying 'Thank you' isn't enough. Our London memories will always be filled with the sounds of pattering, running feet, trills of laughter, playdates that basked in warmth of the summer sun, shivered through the thick of winter... the smiles that light up your faces.

there was a better one taken by Cheeks but I kinda like this one.
I thought it was a well captured moment, don't you think?

Goodbyes and... Hello? Are you an Academy Award- and Golden Globe-nominated actress?

Today was Cheeks' last day at nursery. I brought the camera along (like I'd ever leave home without it. Pooh!) to take snaps of Cheeks with her teachers and friends.

Suffice to say, it was bittersweet.

We were inundated with kind words from mothers wishing us the very best, bidding us farewell. Cheeks was smothered with cuddles from classmates, teachers and other non-teaching staff at school. Everyone was lovely.

Cheeks wanted to take pictures with EVERYONE. Unfortunately, some children were not at school that day, their mothers opting to start their summer holidays earlier. Sorely missing were pictures with Poppy, Sebestian, Boyd, Amelia and Maddie.

Cheeks went around announcing excitedly that she was 'going to Singapore!' and that she would be 'leaving London!' I'm glad she seems chuffed by the idea that she's going home soon. I just hope she knows she's not coming back. It's not another holiday. She won't return to this nursery after Summerbreak, nor will she see her friends, or walk through our big red door again.

+++

And now, I'd like to tell you what else we did today! I brought Cheeks to Hampstead to meet children's author, Lauren Child, of 'Charlie and Lola' fame. We trundled bumpity bump (with Cheeks in her buggy) to Daunt Books at South End Road for the book signing. It was publicised as an event to raise funds for UNICEF so I showed my support by purchasing the enhanced copy of 'That Pesky Rat'.

Cheeks meets her favourite author, Lauren Child! Woo hoo!

It was a thrill for us to see a 'minor celebrity' - albeit a children's author - so up close and personal. And Ms Child was utterly charming and down-to-earth. But very tardy! She showed up an hour late for the event. Tsk tsk! But everyone was all smiles the minute she arrived.

Hello? Hang on! Who is this I spot decked in a Vivienne Westwood-esque gingham skirt and dark glasses? Can it be? Have my prayers of finally meeting a star in celestial London been answered?

It had.

It was. Her.

I flubbered like an idiot. I asked for a photograph (what's the camera for anyway? I ask you!). I was as happy as a pig in muck because lo! She may not be Dame Judi Dench, Gwyneth Paltrow Julie Christie, or Helen Mirren Taylor (all Academy award winners), but she's still a star in her own gothic, quirky, movie right.

Behold! I present to you...

Me (grinning like a Cheshire cat) and Ms Helena Bonham-Carter!
Oh Ivory Merchant, Oh Sweeney Todd, Oh Oh!

Showing no mercy to Percy

The writings on the wall. The page's been flipped.

'JULY' is staring at me squarely in the eye.

We leave in 19 days' time. (actually less by the time this entry is posted.)

+++

Anyhoooooooos...

Time for more sweet memories. Literally. Here's Cheeks to show us how best to enjoy a Marks & Sparks Percy Pig, the way she likes it!

'Having your Percy and Eating it!'

Well, something HAS gotta give

Would I be a terrible parent if I confess that visiting Disneyland was hard work? Coz the song that comes instantly to mind when I think of our recent visit to Parc Disneyland Paris is by Queen.

You'd think bringing a child to a world famous theme park would be - oh how should I put it - a walk in the park? But hohohoboy...

Dee was donkey-fied (being the beast of burden as usual)
We were well and truly fried, nicely singed on the edges and all. (Geri mentioned 'chow tah' on FB, that's how bad it was!)

We were amateurs. Greenhorns. Novices to this big and overwhelming world they call Disneyland. It was a stampede even though the summerbreak hasn't quite kicked in yet.

We had 2 whole days but still, we couldn't cover EVERYTHING.

It wasn't a small world after all. They lied. Hmph.

Our 2 days there felt like we were part of a mob.

We had gone in thinking we could flit from one ride to another, see different 'themed lands' - Adventureland, Fantasyland, Frontierland etc - with tra-la-la minimal fuss.

We didn't know how serious people (read: parents) were when it came to the 'meet and greet' sessions with the characters. People, they had targets they had to meet. TARGETS. Mums and Dads were busy striking off rides, ticking off shows they'd completed, and counting what else they had to cover. Kids were well prepared with autograph books and matching pens purchased from the Disney store. These were no novices, no siree, they were trained experts in the field of themeparks!

Dee and I were bewildered but quickly took notes on how to increase our efficiency from the Masters.

It was an Amazing Race (Disneyland edition) from the get-go. We braved the scorching sun, endured snaking queues, tut-tutted at people who CUT queues, dashed from themeland to themeland, witnessed children screaming at their parents, parents screaming their heads off... it was manic.

Yet, despite the rather frazzled experience. We enjoyed Disneyland. I think it was a combination of seeing Cheeks so utterly thrilled, and us working as a team to cover as much as possible that made the trip memorable. Once we got the hang of it, Papa and I split up to queue for rides, the meet and greet sessions. When our pace showed signs of slowing, Papa would remind me of how we'd zip about from one landmark to the next with gusto when we were on a holiday that we wanted. Instantly our engines would rev up again, and we tried best to make sure Cheeks got to see as many shows, take as many rides as possible.

There are many other anecdotes from this trip that I'd love to share - like the time we were left stranded on the 2nd day when Paris' Metro decided to go on strike and we had no means of getting to Disneyland (thank God for Disney staff at major stations who found alternative modes of transportation for Disneyland ticketholders), how we tried to be frugal and BYO-ed lunches (cooked rice! made porridge! packed sandwiches!) on this trip - but there are too many to put up on blog.

Instead I leave you with some photos. Just us. Beaming and grinning from ear to ear. Coz that's what sums up our maiden trip to Disneyland best...

getting cuddly with Sully

apprehended by the CDA (Child Detection Agency)!

with the chipmunks
kisses for Cheeks on her cheeks

Here comes the summer sun!

(yet another b.p)
Hot on the heels of Summer are long lovely maxi-dresses, flipflops, sunbathing in parks, splashing around in paddling pools, tall gorgeous glasses of Pimm's, and of course, hot, flammin' Barbeques!!!!

We were invited to one at the end of June. Our hosts were the very lovely Ongs who organised a mini housewarming shindig at their swanky new pad a stone's throw from their previous apartment.

Val looking gorgeous in her polkadotted green dress
& Alan the BBQ extraordinaire!

With her new bowls
We got them as a housewarming gift for the Ongs :)

Dearest Ros with her new Cath Kidston oven mitten

The Ongs - they ALWAYS spoil us rotten with their smorgasbord of delectables! That day, we were treated to thick slabs of chargrilled beef from M&S, well marinated chicken pieces, bamboo clams from their local fishmonger (Steve Hatt, I think?), succulent lamb kebabs. We imbibed glass after glass of red/white wine and tumblers of juice as we sat chatting under the warm blanket of the Saturday afternoon sunshine. (Well, at least the men did. The womenfolk opted to keep fairskinned by escaping indoors. Heh.)

Everything was pretty darn awesome.

Dee, Alan, and Adrian

Jac, Val, me! (in mirror) and Ros

While we tucked into BBQ food, the kids, in the meantime, got busy upstairs with Luke's toys. The poor little tyke, however, was a tad unsettled by the sudden surge of estrogen in his house so spent most of the afternoon napping downstairs.

ducking the gaggle of screaming women by snoozing.
Wise choice! :P

Later however, all the children got into their swimsuits and played at the fountain located in the apartment compound. They ran round in circles, splishety splashed in the water, and had themselves a swimmingly good time.

the bevy of beauties in their bathing suits!

Now this is going to sound rather odd - especially coz we're moving back to tropical weather - but we'll miss Summer in London. It's the ability to experience the 4 seasons, really. Makes one appreciate hot summery days knowing full well temperatures will dip the rest of the year...

3 Fs*

(yet another b.p)

This photo, taken last Friday, is my current favourite with Cheeks.

It shows us sitting outside some random Chinese diner at Leicester Square, waiting for Papa. We were in Chinatown to meet Aunty Mimi who had kindly organised a farewell dinner for us. She'd invited her son Pat and his gf along so that she could introduce us all (the adventurous couple went on a year-long sabbatical to travel the world). Papa had called earlier to say he would be early and would see us at the arranged meeting point. Clearly, he's not (bah!).

It was tough finding a good spot to wait for him. We were forced to uproot ourselves several times because typical chinese men were lighting up everywhere and blowing clouds of bad, BAD SHS in our direction (bah bah!). If SHS wasn't bad enough, it had to rain as well. It was a good thing we went to a box-office outlet earlier to get some brochures on the musicals. We covered our heads with them. To amuse ourselves, we made up silly songs (shasha white sheep have you any wool? Beauty and the fish...lalalala... Beauty and the goat, Beauty was a dope (just joking! heh)), we commented on the pictures on the brochures, we watched people dart in and out of shops, desperately trying to find shelter from the rain.

That's when I took the photo.

As we sat there waiting, I thought about something Zubeyde said to me - that Cheeks will not remember any of this. Not her life in London, the holidays here and around Europe, not Leicester Square, not this moment we shared under the rain.

I suppose that's why I'm a firm believer in taking photographs. A moment, however fleeting or inconsequential, is immortalized - forever captured in print or stored in softcopy, on a harddrive somewhere.

We need triggers.

Because, we forget. I forget. Although I take a gazillion photos a day and blog about some of my experiences, some events have already started to fade into oblivion...

And I think of how Life goes one full circle.

Eversince Cheeks was born, I have been stocking up memories for her. I know she won't remember her early years so the onus is on me to do the remembering for her. I'll tell her what her first sounds were, the blood transfusion she had to go through as a 5-day old infant, her first cruise and how tiny she was that we could bathe her in the bathroom sink, that Nainai was the first to introduce dragonfruit to her, Gonggong and Grandma had to tie the handles of ALL the drawers and cabinets in the house when it was their turn to babysit her, her favourite phrases at age 3 - 'because that's why' which later became 'because you see'. How she loved to end her sentences with 'alrighty!', say hi to Anna at the drycleaners every time we passed her shop, look out for Blendina at Tesco, loved the kids meal at Bertie and Boo's, the many, many happy moments Mummy spent with her while looking after her full-time...

In time to come, as my own memory starts to ebb - dates I once remembered at the back of my hand, holidays, family anecdotes, daily happenings - they will suddenly be a strain to remember. By that time, I hope Cheeks would have accumulated a treasure chest filled with lovely, precious family memories.

I hope she will take my old, wrinkled hand in hers, and walk me through our happy past. Remember, Mum? she'll ask. She'll search my face for some sign of recollection but I'll (probably) display none.

But it won't matter. Because I have her to rely on for all our memories.

Her memories will be mine. As mine are hers.

And they will be enough for the both of us.

* Favourite Friday Fotos

Gao Tu (The Art of Procrastination)

(yet ANOTHER backdated post)

Heh heh heh.

Ho ho ho.

Kekeke.

Oh please let me tell you why I'm chuckling to myself. Please please please? I'm just dying to tell y'all.

...

Okaay. Am deafened by the deathly silence from the other side (yes, I do mean you lot). What's that phrase? I can cut the silence with a knife? I can hear a pin drop? The silence was broken by a slow, fizzy, poofy noise because someone failed to raise a buttcheek?

I feel déjà vu-ish.

This feels familiar.

Ah yes. It's reminiscent of the MANY times MOM (how's that for a reference, QL!!!!) does a strange little soliloquy over MSN whenever I skirt off from the IM without telling her. Ho ho ho.

Anywayz, I'm wonderfully adept at changing the subject so let's get back to it already.

Chuckling. Why? Because I have a whole backlog of entries which I am looking at in utter disdain. Oh, the tribulations of tu-ing!

So excuse me while I gather bits from here and there and try to piece my life - as of last week - together...

Thursday:
Dennis' cousins, Enrica & Eudora, who were in London/Paris for a 2-week holiday, treated us to a night off and tickets to see Avenue Q.

It was a riot! (the musical that is, not that Hubs and I staged one. Although quite frankly, I wouldn't mind protesting the need for more nights off ! :P)

Critics hail it as 'an irreverent parody of Sesame Street'.

Spot.On.

Brash, totally un-PC and absolutely unapologetic about it, I soaked up the ribaldry, gawped at the salacious scenes, and marvelled at the skilful puppeteering. And all the songs were catchy and rip-roaringly hilarious! A must-see on Broadway!

I was happy to enjoy a nightout with Dee. Occasions like these are so hard to come by, so few and far between. Sometimes I forget how it is to be just us - where conversations are not laced with anecdotes about Cheeks, work updates, or family. We walked hand in hand, snuggled in our theatre seats, finished each other sentences, enjoyed us.

That night, we were simply Saggs and Dee, not Mummy and Papa.

The other guy...

JH called me today. Out of the blue.

To see if I was ok.

And just like that, he made a difference to my otherwise doldrummy day.

So thank you, bud. It meant alot to me.

Do I hear pratas and milo dinosaurs?

Openings & Closures

A few months ago while on our way to the supermarket, Cheeks and I noticed the beginnings of renovation work taking place at a long-vacant corner shop.

We were curious, if not a little excited.

We watched the shop slowly take shape. Every chance we had, we'd peek inquisitively through openings left by the dog-eared newspaper sheets plastered over its windowpanes. We'd eye the woodplanks that leant against walls, cans of paint, bags of cement/plaster, wiring, boxes of store fixtures, piping that littered the pavement.

It wasn't long before we realised the shop was going to be a - very much hoped-for - cafe.

As fresh cafe posters replaced the crinkled newspapers at the windowpanes, I began to wonder whether we'd have a chance to sit and enjoy a cuppa at the cafe before leaving London. Opening Soon wasn't precise enough.

But Soon came sooner than expected and the cafe opened its doors to us on 21 May 2008. Dee's birthday. I remember the day well as it was the day chichi arrived to London.

Thank you...

I know it sounds awfully trifle - even shallow - to be happy over the opening of a cafe. But in a way, I felt we were given time - time to enjoy that bit more of London living.

The cafe is certainly nothing to shout about. In fact, it's a coffee chain that's a dime a dozen in London. But every experience seems impossibly precious now. I find myself clinging possessively to every sight, smell, taste, sound, memory, and finding it so very hard to let go.

I'm not quite ready to close this chapter of my life just yet. I'm not ready to say goodbye. So I think I'll linger a little longer.

(I really want to apologise for the incessant moping on this blog. But if you don't like what you read, just close the blogsite. It's that easy.)

Shiver Me Timbre(s)!

Astounding but true.

Hubs and I LOVE the way the Prince of Wales speaks. Yes, I do mean HRH Prince Charles, the Heir Apparent, husband to CPB, father to Wills & Harry, The Royal who advocates talking to flora etc etc etc.

And now, I'd like to give you all a moment to gawp like freshly caught fish.

...
...
...

Done?

...
...
...

As we explored the grounds at Windsor Castle on Saturday, we found ourselves unexpectedly 'seduced' by HRH's crisp, private school influenced, ultra-polished, Queen's English- accented voice through our hand-held audio guides. So beguiled were we that we actually replayed his segment twice. Ok, thrice, but who's counting?

I think neither of us remembers what he rattled on about. He was waxing lyrical about something. What was it? The splendid tapestry hanging in the staterooms? The proud history of the castle?

I don't remember! All that comes to mind is the rich timbre of his voice, the beautiful way he enunciated his words... *sigh*

Oh. Help. Me. God.

Now here's another man who's been equally successful - if not more - in bowling us over with his verbal delivery - Simon Woods. He played the v dishy Dr Harrison in BBC's successful adaptation of Elizabeth Gaskell's 'Cranford'. This man's elocution is oh-my-gawd-I-can't-even-say-it -- pure, molten chocolate. Rich, smooth, utterly irresistible. *swoon*

Please, allow me to convince:

+++

In related news, we've done it. We've visited every royal castle in London. Windsor's the last.

The Sun wasn't in its most cooperative mood that day but we went ahead anyway. We weren't going to let a little weather blip scupper our plans, come hell or high water!

We weren't particularly impressed with the Queen's actual residence though I suspect it was a case of 'you've seen one, you've seen them all'. Cheeks did enjoy Queen Mary's Dolls' House though. The lavish opulence of the Doll House was dumbfounding. Besides the meticulously crafted furnishings and ornaments, the Doll House is equipped with electrical lights and plumbing - hot and cold water run in all the bathrooms!

There was a strong sense of déjà vu as I traipsed over the cobbled pavements. I watched Cheeks quietly listening to her special audio guide and marvelled how much she's grown. Before, she was a mere tag-along. Now she's an active participant who's able to follow the audio guide and walk through staterooms and galleries without too much complaint.

Anyway, here's a look at us - then and now. Our 1st palace visit (Tower of London) and our last (Windsor Castle).

Same people. Same jackets (me and Papa! totally unpremeditated!). Same photo taken with guard wearing bearskin headgear. But how we've all grown... in big and small ways. :)

Tower of London Sept 2006

Windsor Castle June 2008

The best bestest play

(a backdated post)

After weeks of eager anticipation, we brought Cheeks for her first play (not to be confused with musical. No animated artists gesticulating wildly, belting out songs using their diaphragm - don't play play!) at Polka Theatre in South Wimbledon. It was a deliberate choice - Cheeks hadn't yet been to a play so I thought what better way to introduce her to that aspect of the Arts than through... Charlie and Lola!!!! Whoop whoop whoop! (seriously, I sometimes wonder who the real fan is here!)

Even Papa tagged along, quite chuffed to be part of the event.

We bought tickets for the 10:30am show. The play, lasting just over an hour, left us ample time to send Cheeks to nursery after. Super!

The theatre was all I expected a childrens' theatre to be - an inviting facade, a friendly cafe for one to grab a quick nosh before a performance, an 'exhibition area' with displays of props and puppets from past productions, a selection of rocking horses for children to climb onto, a crafty corner stocked with picture printouts and colour pencils to do colouring in, rows of shelves packed with popular childrens' literature. There was also a Toyshop, which sold toys (du-uh!), books, show programmes, and a panoply of C&L merchandise, which, after the show, I felt impelled to buy. Dang!

Despite arriving early, the theatre lobby was already teeming with schoolchildren. I muttered a prayer hoping they wouldn't cause a ruckus during the show and ruin it for everybody. Thankfully, they behaved beautifully. Phew.

--spoilers ahead--

The play was done 'puppet-style', i.e people holding up cardboard cutouts (?) of the characters. Because of this, I felt the characters' expressions were limited, although not entirely compromised. The 'puppets' were able to display different expressions - happy, sad, shocked - which weren't great, but all in all, they sufficed.

It was a thrill for me to observe the kids. The moment the lights dimmed and the oh-so-familiar themesong resonated through the speakers, the young audience leapt up and let out claps, squeals, screams, and cheers of rapture.

It was a mini rock concert.

Favourite bits
When coloured, paper butterflies were released. They flitted gently from the ceiling into the eager, outstretched arms of the children below. Truly a wonderful, magical moment.

The discoball that lighted up and spun from the ceiling, throwing tiny orbs of white light onto the walls of the little theatre, transforming it into a sparkly, dazzling wonderland.

Not so favourite bits
The puppeteering took away some of the 'magic'. I suppose they couldn't have done it any other way - 2 live size dolls on stage would've made certain scene changes a logistical nightmare. Not to mention, cumbersome.

And finally.

Did Cheeks enjoy it? I certainly hope so! But I really can't say. I surmise she did although she was a tad quiet towards the end. I snuck glances at her throughout the play and caught a smile here, a chuckle there, but she was rather reticent for most of the 2nd half. Certainly not the reaction we'd expected especially after successful outings to see Mary Poppins and Mama Mia, both of which she enjoyed.

Perhaps she's more a song and dance girl. Perhaps she was disappointed she didn't get to catch one of the paper butterflies during the performance. Perhaps she was tuckered out.

Regardless, I'm still glad we were able to bring her and I hope, in years to come, we can relive these memories through our library of photos.

On the goodbye trail

There are so many things I want us to do, so many places I want us to visit and re-visit before we leave London. On my lengthy list:

• Hampstead Heath (never been, would love to bring Cheeks to see the bathing ponds. Heard so much about them)
  
• Windsor Castle (to catch a glimpse of the Queen (!) who actually resides there, and not Buckingham Palace as is the popular belief)
• Richmond
• Brentcross
• Browse vintage boutiques at Angel/Covent Garden
  
• Brighton (walk on the famous pebbled beach)
  
• Climb to the top of St Paul's Cathedral for the breathtaking view of London
  
• Catch another musical/play
• Visit Columbia Road Flower Market
• Stroll down Portobello Market/King's Ave/High Street Kensington/Hampstead/Regent-Oxford Street

Truth is, I know I'll be unable to complete the list even if I were to stick to it slavishly. I'll have to be content with whatever I can manage within our limited timeframe. As it is I'm already feeling the stretch - a classic case of wanting to do too much in too little time. Besides the list, I'm feverishly trying to set aside time for friends who've been so much a part of our lives here.

Because I want to, and because I think they're important.

Surprisingly absent from the list is perhaps a visit to the museums. I took that out because I managed to bring Cheeks to the National Gallery on the spur of a moment today. I'd love to bring her to all of them again if I could - the Tates, British Museum, Horniman - but I can't.

So I picked the grand old dame. She who houses almost everything.

We made a beeline for the Impressionists.

They were all on proud display - Monet, Pissaro, Cezanne, van Gogh, Degas, Seurat, Renoir - names that have, in recent times, become familiar to Cheeks because of the 'Katie' series by James Mayhew. She paused to ask questions about Henry Rosseau's 'Surprised', Degas' 'Ballet Dancers', Seurat's 'Bathers' and Renoir's 'An Evening at the Theatre'.

But the painting she lingered at most was one by Paul Delaroche, 'Execution of Lady Jane Grey', one of my favourite paintings at the Gallery. This was the running dialog while we stood gazing at it: (pardon the lengthy exchange, i'm writing it all down so I don't forget)

D: Mummy, why is the lady blindfolded?
M: Because she is going to have her head cut off.
D: Why?!!!
M: In the past, when the king was not pleased with someone, he would give an order to have their heads cut off.
D: That's not very nice!
M: No, it isn't. But because the king was very powerful, he could do pretty much what he wanted. I think this was King Henry the VIII.
D: I think he is a very evil king! We should cut off HIS head!
D: (scans the painting) Mummy, why is that lady on the floor?
M: She fainted, I think.
D: Why?
M: I think it's because she was overcome by sadness that the young lady is going to have her head chopped off. I think that old lady is her lady-in-waiting.
D: And what about that man at the pillar? What's he doing?
M: I don't think that's a man Cheeks, it's another lady-in-waiting.
D: Why is she turned away?
M: I think she's crying against the pillar, sweetheart. She's probably very sad that the young lady is going to die.
M: How do you think the blindfolded lady feels, sweetheart?
D: I think she must be very scared.
M: I think so too, Cheeks. Look at that big axe. (we both turn to look at it)
D: That king is an EVIL man. I don't like him! He should NOT chop off people's heads! *growls*

Before we leave, we browse the Gallery bookshop. I buy Cheeks a chocolate coin, a 'Katie' book, and a print reproduction of Picasso's 'Child with a Dove'. As we descend the stairs at Charing Cross station, I find myself... a little overwhelmed.

These museums will no longer be at my disposal. I can't amble through gallery after gallery any time I want to, or bring Cheeks on mini excursions to see 'the Greats' on a whim.

I guess it's true what many friends have been telling me of late - that it was good while it lasted.

In our case, perhaps a little too good.

Father's Day (in pictures)

Cheeks proudly hands Papa the card we picked out for him

behind it she's drawn our family and ... Bambi!

Helping Papa blow out the candles...

...then helping him cut the cake

Happy little family!

Happy Father's Day, Dee! We love you.

and

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY to my Bapak di Singapura!!!
xxx

Remembering... How Great Thou Art

So there we were - half sprinting, half briskwalking, trying to get ourselves home in record time to unlock the main door, hurl our grocery bags onto the carpet, slam the door, lock it, then dash all the way to Cheeks' nursery. Hopefully, in time for school.

Despite the flurry and fluster, Cheeks, between pants, was able to conduct a (rather one-way) discussion with me regarding God:

D: Mummy, God is great, isn't He?
M: Hhehh hheh hhehhhhh. (this is me panting, btw.)
D: He knows what's good for us, right?
D: He knows what we should eat.
D: He knows what's best for us.
D: Mummy, without God, we'd be human bones.
M: Bo...? (silenced by sheer exhaustion *pant* from all that sprintwalking. *pant* Therefore *pant * unable to articulate. *pant* Manage to look quizzically (enough) at her to *pant* signal my incomprehension regarding her last statement. *pant pant*)
D: (mildly affronted) Ye-ess?! If God didn't make our bodies. We'd just be bones! Right? Huh.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh. Nod. Nod.

+++

Later, as I take the Tube to Leicester Square to buy some fresh supplies for the steamboat we're having with the Lanes tonight, I think to myself how incredibly simple yet true her words were/are.

A waft of something familiar distracts me. I watch a fellow commuter peel the skin, then chomp carefully on her ripe banana. And I thank God for my sense of smell and for the delicious fruit He's provided for us all.

I think of my conversation with Mona (Jelani's mum. Cheeks' friend at nursery). She tells me today that she'll 'miss us' when we return to Singapore. I think of all the kind, sweet words from schoolmums/playdates/friends here, telling us our absence will be felt, and our presence missed.

And I think about all the lovely messages from friends and family in Singapore, telling us how they can't wait for us to be back.

Then, for the first time after (what's been) a loooong time of feeling sore about it, I thank God for 2 of the BEST years of my life. Although I know I'll still miss the family life we have here, I am finally submitting it all to Him. Because He knows what's best. So I'm thankful for having had 2 wonderful, close-knit years with my Cheeks and Dee.

2 years of priceless, happy, cherished memories. Together.

And I think of how timely this reminder is. How glad I am that my 3YO can talk to me about God.

How in her own little way, she's prompted me of God's promises and His love for us. Jeremiah 29:11~13.

Raising a toughie

Children are injury-prone. I'm sure parents the world over would concur.

On our way to nursery today, Cheeks struck her foot against an uneven slab of pavement, tumbled and landed - knees first, then palms down - before ending up completely prostrate on the ground.

...

Eversince she was a wee thing learning to totter about, Dee and I have assumed a 'go on, pick yourself up, dust yourself off, no need for tears' stance whenever Cheeks has a fall.

Or bumps herself.

Or suffers a scratch.

Or takes a knock to the head. (Unless they were super-duperly hard knocks, of course.)

As a result, (we think) Cheeks has grown up to be rather... sturdy?

Or perhaps there is some measure of truth behind the nutritious properties of durians? It's been said that pregnant women who consume durians throughout their trimesters will give birth to robust, bah-bah (firm-skinned & meaty), hardy offspring.

I followed the advice, seeing my ex-boss' 3 strapping, healthy, energetic boys. On a wild night of unstoppable gluttony, I'd wolf down 5 packs of durians on my own. At a go.

So yes, I do wonder whether it is the durians or our low-fuss attitude that has helped Cheeks become the stalwart she is today.

Anyway, I inch closer to take a look at her wounds. As I do so, she begins fishing for sympathy by crying piteously. I notice a few tiny spots oozing with blood on one knee. I wipe them clean. I take a look at her hands. No cuts, grazes or scrapes. Just dirty with bits of gravel.

I'm certain the fall isn't bad. I give her knee a quick peck to kiss the pain away, then tell her everyone trips and falls once in awhile. Even mummy does. But few have red polkadots on their knees like she has.

At the mention of spotty polkadotty wounds, she stops sniffling immediately and manages a chuckle. She likes the sound of that.

She takes one last, cursory glance at her wound, wipes her hands on her jeans then tears down the pavement again.

Pain (if any at all) and injury are clean forgotten.

Effects of Time

I'm still finding London chilly at night. Me toes are turning ghastly blue as I squat here, perched on my stool, attempting to blog after the looooonnnngggg-ong-ong-ong (echo echo echo) hiatus.

It feels like a long time. And yet, it hasn't been. Has it?

I no longer see it fit to use the phrase 'Time flies'. Because to me, Time doesn't fly, it's evanescent.

A 13 hour flight, a one-way plane ticket, that flight across continents are all that separate me from here and there.

First Chichi was here.

Now, she's somewhere out there, in the clouds, snoozing as she flies over some country? Or perhaps she's keeping herself entertained with inflight movies. I hope they are good and make up for the undoubtedly horrendous service she'll receive from BA.

Sometime tomorrow, her almost 3-week holiday will come to a close. She'll be reunited with family.

Before long, so will we.

...

Every holiday earns me a new stamp on my passport, a new 'momento-magnet' on our fridge.

Every step I take now brings me closer and closer to home.

I loved having Chichi here. I loved throwing open our doors and showing her what life in the UK is like for us. I loved being able to show her around, cook for her, share experiences with her. Just having her around to talk to, and being a little sister all over again.

But this 'now you see me, now you don't' disappearing act is getting a bit too achy-chokey for my fragile fraying nerves.

Our last day is coming soon. It'll soon be our turn to be here one day, and not, the next.

...

Now here's a newsbreak. The good people (note the mild sarcasm) at the real estate company have lay claim to the apartment. Notice the hard-to-miss 'TO LET' sign that's been hammered into the ground right outside our soon-to-be-ex flat? A stark reminder that, yes yes, we'll be vacating soon.

them vultures. Bah!

Now, music moments!

Do you ever wonder why certain songs pop into your head? For no apparent reason? You've not heard them lately - not a single note, bar, section of melody. Nothing! Nada nyet nein.

Once in awhile - and if you allow it to - the past finds ways of creeping up on you. In my case, through music. This tune's been filling my head all night. I don't know how or why I pulled this out from my memory vault. I have trouble remembering personal events, much less songs from days of yore? Anyway, despite keeping it in cold storage - gathering cobwebs in some remote part of my grey, no doubt - this song remains an evergreen and I love that I can effortlessly belt out its lyrics despite the memory lapse.

(So it's teeny-bopperish. Stop them eyes from going all rolley polly on me.)



* oh, and I promise the next entry will be more upbeat!

Craft

Cheeks striking an awkward pose with her
newly sheared fringe - courtesy of barber Papa.

Ha.

In a bid to inject a worthwhile activity to her otherwise humdrum termbreak, I whisked Cheeks to my favourite London museum, National Portrait Gallery, to participate in their 90-min family art workshop.

Completely gratis. Did I mention how much I love museums here?!!!

It was, as always, brilliantly conducted. Using one of its current exhibitions, 'Brilliant Women', as a backdrop for today's activities, the workshop began with a short introduction to portrait painter, Angelica Kauffmann - who she was and the painting styles she favoured. Next, the 16-or-so children (number of, not age group. But you knew that already, didn't you?) were asked to try their hand at silhouette drawing, similar to the one featured on the exhibition poster (see below) .

Children - heads bent over their drawing pads

Cheeks' 1st 'silhouette' pix.

The final activity, which lasted an hour, took place in the basement of the museum in a fairly large room frequently used for their family activities. The children were given step-by-step instructions on how to make a journal using felt fabric and paper. The task involved:

* Sewing paper onto the felt fabric (I had to poke the needle through the fabric/paper for Cheeks while she helped pull the thread through)
* Designing a booktag (drawing, cutting, pasting a design then sewing it to the end of the journal)
* Drawing a silhouette of a person, an animal, or whatever the children wished to include on the cover of their journal
* Cutting and pasting a label onto the 1st page of the journal.

Here's Cheeks, to demonstrate:

And voilà!

Cheeks' 'silhouette' of Nessie, the Loch Ness Monster.
Methinks it resembles a wriggly spaghetti strand making a slow descent into water. Ha!

While we were busy getting arty crafty in London, what of my sis? Why, the intrepid mother of 3 is currently flying solo in Rome, exploring the ruins of the Palatino, sticking fingers into every orifice at the v holey Colosseum, and more importantly, checking out the suave and dangerously irresistible Italian men! (Now we know the real reason why she chose to travel alone! Hohoho!) After Rome, she's off to the epicentre of Italian Renaissance, Florence, followed by the Chianti region. Her final port of call will see her ensconced in the shell of her gondola as it plies through Venice's famous waterways.

And that's where we'll join her.

With any luck, we'll be cruising down the Grand Canal together - a glass of bubbly Prosecco in hand, listening to a soothing serenade, a warm breeze through our hair. With the breathtaking Venetian skyline as a backdrop, our brawny gondolier will push the oar through the quiet waters and sail us towards the golden sunset...

I've never been. So I can dream, can't I? :)

Excuse me while I take a moment to...

WHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! :)

Man of 33

Somewhere between snores, snorts and scratching his man bits (did I say 'bits'? I mean BIGORMOUS, POWERFUL *quiver!*, MANLY *oh my!* ORBS OF STEEL!!!!), my man turned 33.

Despite the lack of brouhaha surrounding his bday celebration (I say this because I always believe birthdays ought to be spent in boisterous revelry. The bigger and louder, the better. But that's just me.), I believe we still managed to make it special for him.

'Twas a simple dinner. Simple, but intimate.

I roasted a chicken (with lemon butter and thyme) and a joint of pork (honey roasted with a sage and onion stuffing). I made Insalata Caprese, roasted parsnips and potatoes, and for dessert, I tried out that molten chocolate cake recipe.

Party decor was the usual - the over recycled 'Happy Birthday' sign saved from numerous birthdays before. Cheeks made Papa a really nice 'Monster Family' card. I liked it so much I gave it a place of prominence - smack in the middle of the under-decorated wall.

(* Cheeks has progressed from drawing stick fingers. Them fingers? They be resemblin' flowers now. See example below.)

A bouquet of red and pink flowers vased in a cookie jar with a white satin ribbon tied round its waist, Rob Stewart crooning old standards in the background, and my dinner setting was complete.

We ate. We drank. We swirled round the kitchenfloor (we seem to do that alot. Think it may be a 'Chan family' trait). There were chuckles, kisses and cuddles throughout dinner.

The great part about big birthday bashes is the element of excitement, fun. But small, intimate ones - especially those celebrated with the ones you love - they are truly... some kind of wonderful.

Here's a low-down

I am decided. I AM TRASHING THE 5 REMAINING UNFINISHED, UNINSPIRED, UNSPEAKABLY BAD ENTRIES related to 'The 12 days of termbreak'. Gah! Good riddance!

In my world, this would be me doing 'a Mel'. It's a private joke. I'm not elaborating.

Speaking of Mel, I received a lovely surprise and letter from her today. Reading sentence after sentence of her squiggly handwriting brought back many fond memories and made me grin from ear to ear. I sure do miss her. Thanks so much for the woolly socks, ma parrot. Mornings are still rather chilly so I'll be able to wear these for a couple more days/weeks?


Anyway, here's the low-down:

• It's Dee's bday this Wed. And I've just decided (like half a minute ago) that I'm going to throw him an 'intimate' dinner party at home. Just him, Cheeks and me. It's going to be a simple home-cooked meal but I'm eager to try out some new recipes. One of which, this.
• We visited Fenny's on Sunday and had a feast of ayam kuning and mee siam. I made key lime pie for the first time. It was goooooood.
  

• A new cafe is opening in the neighbourhood. Exactly when, I do not know. I just hope I get to relax there and have a cuppa before THE MOVE...
  
• ...speaking of which, we've written to the estate agents informing them of our tenancy termination. *GULP*
• My darling chichi is coming to London this Wednesday!!! Oh boy, I'm bubbling over with excitement here!
  

• I popped down to Leicester Sq today to get Dee a last minute 2nd birthday gift. I got Gift 1 from New York, but thought what the heck! he deserves another.
• Last Wed (14/5), Val and I committed parental kamikaze by going to an Orla Kiely sample sale on its opening day with kids in tow. We had to queue. It was crowded. The kids almost died of boredom. Val managed to bag quite a number of items despite the uncooperative kids. I didn't buy anything on Day 1 but went back the very next day for a second browse. That's when I finally caved in and got myself a bag. Why I need so many bags, I'll never know. Anyway, this one's brown with green handles and has O.K's signature stem prints plastered all over.

And finally...

• I'm prone to 'phasing out' these days. I walked home from the Tube station today with a million and a half things on my mind. Cheeks has to repeat herself three times to get herself heard. I feel awful. I'm trying to be more focused. But it's hard when you've got a gazillion and a half things...