Just an update.

The house reno (seems to be on for forever) is finally picking up steam in these past few weeks. There was a slow period of about 2 months which rest assured MrGart has thrown some serious adult tantrum to the contractor, using words I can’t write here.

At the moment, both houses’ front gates are missing. The huge 12-yr old red palm tree is being uprooted in the left wing to make room for a car porch. The tree will join its cousins, some green cha-cha ruffles palm trees on the right wing where we will have a gazebo and a garden. Right now the garden looks like a warzone.

All the plaster ceilings are done. The kitchen’s tiling is ready. The master bedroom’s done. The walk-in wardrobe is being built. The spacious black-white split level huge master bathroom is ready minus the window frames. Kids’ bathroom Number 1 is ready.

We’re waiting for the window frames, door frames and kitchen cabinets and in the mean time they’ll do up the car porch and garden and the gates. Then only we’re able to move to the right wing for them to work on the left wing where the kids’ Bathroom 2 is to be done and my existing master bedroom to be converted into a study. Our sodden bathroom will be knocked down and just be a room. The kitchen is to be converted into utilities area with specific area for laundry and ironing, taking things away from Andes’ room outside. Won’t she just love us more?

Ayisha meanwhile is doing fine. This month she starts her Quranic recital every weeknight instead of her afternnon KAFA classes. She’s happier too. We’re making solid grounds in her Maths work with me. I, in fact started everyone on this. Not just Asha. We may not be seeing As just yet, but I have faith that the day will come.

Adani meanwhile has been a little emotional these past few days. I think there are some friends issues at school. I came home from official dinner do last night to her red, swollen eyes and I got her to the clinic. Her very first allergic reaction to something. Nothing that a dose of Zrytec and some Prednicolone couldn’t help clear. Academically, she’s been oustanding. While we’re doing some intense Maths with Asha, Adani’s doing a grade higher than where she is, at ease. Alhamdulillah. Both Adani and Ayisha are really into reading these Diary of a Wimpy Kid books for reasons I can’t quite fathom.

Anyways.

Aliya is currently in a mad dash to UPSR. The dreaded public examination for any 12-yo in Malaysia. She did very well in her exams and her teachers have all praises for her. Just need to keep the momentum going. I’ve been doing some doodling work with her from DeepSpaceSparkle just
to help her to destress and unwind. She does wonderful PileUP Name Design and seems to enjoy doodling. At 12, self-awareness and conciousness is really affecting her and that was why last weekend’ hair trimmings was a big deal to her. She nearly cried when the first few snips were made, but I assured her that wait till its over, it would be alright. And it did. She beamed afterwards, admining her long layered hair do. Very stylish, I thought. We need to get those hair straightener. Aliya’s hair is wiry and rather stubborn. Ayisha’s jet black and very straight. Adani’s dark brown, very soft and easy to manipulate. Ariz’s uhmm .. just cropped short and rough, like stubbles.

Ariz these days is so hard to snap a picture of. He refuses to pose and runs away whenever a camera is nearby. He’s into ToyStory3 and is often caught role-playing with Buzz and Woody in cars with dinosaurs. All’s great. His reading is amazing and he takes reading practise very seriously. Of late, he’s been quite upset that his Malay Language reading is not as good but he wants to improve and makes me read with him. Alhamdulillah. Otherwise, he’s still a tv-addict but only to Playhouse Disney and Disney Channel, and the super heroes he loves are Ben10 and Batmans and Phenias and Ferb and the funny platypus.

Apart from that, all’s well at the Gart’s dwelling.

And of course, the “car” is days away at arriving at our yet-to-be porch. Yippee!

I’ve gone mushy as I age.

I read Rotidua‘s blog yesterday about Raden Galoh i.e. Dalilah Tamrin’s battle against breast cancer. Hence the blog’s title One Breast Bouncing.

She was feisty and bold and didn’t whine or complain about the intense pain that she was in. Who am I to even try to understand her pain, her suffering ? We can imagine, but nowhere near what she felt. The frustration and the pain.

Instead she wrote about what steered her in the straight path. She wrote about her husband and her children, often reeling when it came to her children.

I read most of the posts with eyes tearing up last night. Her last entry was 3 weeks ago and she spoke about going for an Umrah, a minor pilgrimage to Mecca.

I came in this morning, tearing up listening to the Cheryl Crow’s Fight For This Love. And am sitting here, adding her blog in my burgeoning list of Reader’s subscription, and googling about her, wanting to know more about this strong, stoic woman.

Only to realise that she has just passed away this morning at 8:50am. I was too late, I guess. I was drafting a heartfelt comment for her for her to be strong and that she’s giving us, the ignorants, a real slap in the face for being for ungrateful for what we have. But she’d never knew that that.

To MH and her two sons Adam and Idris, there is no word that I can ever say to ease your pain or even to describe your loss. But have faith that Allah’s promise is true. I pray for Allah’s mercy for her and for Allah to grant her Jannah.

Al-Fatihah.

I turned *counts* 28 30 37 28 37 yesterday.

A big number, I should say.  Thank you to all who who wished me all the great things in life, in the virtual world.  Thanks to the Facebook, I had an avalanche of wishes from friends and families all over the world.

Friends I knew from primary school when I hardly had boobs sent me their wishes.  Friends I knew during the wild days at Manchester sent me their wishes too.  Even families strewn around the world sent me their wishes.

I have no idea how we all ever survived pre-Facebook days, seriously.

But not a single birthday card.  A physical card.  One you can touch and trace over the quirky hand-written message.  The cute tiny hearts drawn as a signature or even the smiley face drawn with a circle and 2 dots and a smile, instead of the automatically generated smiley face.

I guess that’s 2010 for us.

Anyways.

Happy Birthday to GartRed too!  She’s exactly 10 minutes younger than me.

MrGart and I have taken up this hobby or rather a sport about 6 months ago and it involves bicycles.  The kind that has slender, light frames meant for roads, not for hilly or moutainous terrain.

These road bikes are fast, especially downhill if you’re heavy like MrGart.  I would outrun him on slope and he’d catch up downhill.  Anyways, it’s one of those things we both enjoy doing.  We’ve always been an adventurous couple all these years and this was just waiting to be picked up.   Did I tell you guys about the 4 weeks we spent backpacking around Europe when we were 19years old?  That is not something I would want ANY of my kids to ever attempt, now that I know how silly it was,  for us.

Well, MrGart has already clocked like more than 1000 km on hhis bike and I’m still around 250km.  He rides 40-50km every Sunday and Saturday with this band of cyclists from Bukit Jelutong and I do get a little intimidated to ride with them, so I often just ride with MrGart whenever he does solo, to keep him company.

Anyways.

Last Sunday, coming home from my weekly salsa/mambo/bollywood aerobic session with Adani and MissKLSentral, Ayisha rushed out to meet me saying Daddy fell off the bike and was bleeding all over.

I was worried and finally spoke to him to know that his cycling buddies have despatched a guy to pick him up some 40 km away (they were going to Ijok, like 45 km) and he was about to reach the clinic at Bukit Jelutong.

We waited for him and when he arrived, bloodied and all, I whisked him straight into the treatment room and the gash over his eyebrow was long and deep.  He had long scratches from his left eyebrow down to chin.  Face is face and turning blue black.  His jersey was torn at the left side, leaving his back lacerated.   The doctor came and he had 9 stitches to close the gash and get cleaned up.

Apparently, they were riding in peloton and the rider in front was avoiding a dog and swerved, causing the riders behid to avoid crashing into him, which 3 didn’t have time to.  MrGart was actually eating a banana at that point in time, re-energising with his right hand and he hit the brake on the lefti.e. front wheel which sent him somer-saulting in the air.

Alhamdulillah, they all landed on the safe side of the road instead of the oncoming car stream.  The helmet and the glasses protected his injury from getting much worse and proper riding jersey helped too.

So, the Colnago is not too bad, just a little out of alignment, must to MrGart’s delight.  I doubt this could dampen his love of riding.  But I guess this would make him be a lot more careful in future rides.

In the meantime, he’s mending at home with 2 days of medical leave.  I for one, was late this morning from watching the World Cup final at 2:30am.  Kudos to Spain for winning it and I feel for you guys Netherlands.  I was rooting for you guys, but I guess, Snejder,  it’s not your day.  And to Diego Forlan, great play and even greater hair.  Good jon on winning the Best Player.  Whoohoo!  I heart you!

This time for Africa!  It’s over now, think I’m gonna go into a WC-induced withdrawal mode.

Made these last Sunday for Umar’s 8th Birthday World Cup themed party.  His mom made meticulous preparation for the party and even held a match of football among the guests.  It rained in the morning and the football field was a little slushy, but it never did deter boys and “bigger” boys from playing, getting all mucky and yucky, including my two boys.

BTW, am a little dozy this morning from watching the defeat of Germany to Spain in last night’s semi.  The semis and the final are shown at 2:30am here in Malaysia and that resulted in many many sleepy heads in the morning after.  Anyways, YAY to Spain!  And sorry Klose, the end is here.  You’ve been wonderful, but let Villa and Sjneider steal the match in the final  aye!

I digress.  I’ve always wanted to make pavlovas but I failed both times I did.  The last try was inspired by the Delicious cafe’s Choc Pavlova with Strawberry that Dayang is still dreaming and smacking her lips, remembering.  I googled for a recipe but threw the whole batch away since it was so so so so sweet.

Then I remembered in my Nigella Lawson’s Domestic Goddess book, she mentioned the Mini Pavlova and that  it makes for a great dessert.  But that book is nowhere to be found in my house.  Did someone borrow it from me?

Anyways, that was superb!  I think i beat the cream a little too long and it’s seconds from turning into butter.  I sliced some strawberries and for effect, I spooned on some of my thawed frozen Raspberry Sauce from Heavenly Cakes book.  And that sauce made the pavlova, seriously.  I would keep making the sauce and freeze them for moments like this.  Serious comfort food.

The picture was taken from the leftovers broken pavlova at home with what remained of the raspberyy sauce and the stawberries.  There were some 10 pieces left and they quickly dissappeared.  Aliya and Asha were so in love with them, making me promise to make them again.  No worries girls, I have plenty of frozen eggwhites in the freezer.

Here’s the recipe.  It does work and not too sweet, but I’d be lying if I’d say it’s not sweet at all.  It’s a sin food.  *throws hands up in the air*

From ACatInTheKitchen

Mini Pavlovas
(Makes 18. Recipe Nigella Lawson)

8 egg whites
a pinch of salt
500g caster sugar
4 tsp corn flour
2 tsp white wine vinegar (makes the meringues chewy inside)
1 tsp vanilla extract (I didn’t have any so I just substituted 100 gram of the above 500 gram caster sugar with my own vanilla sugar, which basically is a jar of caster sugar to which I add scraped used vanilla pods instead of throwing them in the trash).

Preheat the oven to 180°C. Line 3 baking trays with baking paper.

Beat the egg whites and salt until the mixture form satiny peaks. Keep beating the egg whites while adding sugar little at a time until the meringue is stiff and shiny. Sprinkle over the corn flour, vinegar (and vanilla extract, if using). Fold in gently.

Form round meringues on the trays lined with baking paper, around 10 cm a cross and 1.5 cm high. Make an indentation in the middle of every pavlova with the back of a spoon. Put in the trays in the oven and immediately reduce the heat to 150°C. Bake for 30 minutes. Turn off the oven and leave the Pavlovas inside for 1.5-2 hours.

Serve the Pavlovas with whipped cream, fresh fruit and a nice fruit syrup.

Episode 1:

At school ground, picking up Adani and my twin’s kids.  A white Harrier, double parked behind a row of school vans blocking them and delaying them from sending the kids home.  One of the vans was the Manjit van my kids go on.

The guy came and arrogantly moved his car and blocked off another part of the road.  I walked past and gave him the utter disgusted look at him.  He got off his car and came to me, demanding what’s wrong with me.  I told him off that this was a school ground.  Be considerate to other people.  At least show some great example to the kids.  He arrogantly said that he’s picking his kids up and has to go the hospital.  I told him, what did he think we ARE ALL doing there?  Having a picnic?

He then said that I should behave like a woman and not do what I did.  WHAT?  SAY WHAT? Just because you’re a man, that makes you, right?  Puhleeeze!  Clearly, you’ve gone no further than the year 1983.  You scum!

I decided that he was no match for me and that I hold a much higher emotional control than him and I actually think with my brain. After all, you can’t win with idiots who think they’re right all the time, even when they’re dead wrong.

So I preserved my sanit and left by saying “harap kereta aje besar, otak cetek, hati sombong, dah salah, naaak menang jugak” which means “so much for your big car for you have such little brain matter  with a huge arrogant mind.  you’re not worth my time”.

After all, he couldn’t even speak a word of English when I was berating him.  All uttered were some dialect Malay words of little class whilst I was in my hard-negotiator mode.   Sheesh!  The world is so full of these I-am-so-special people.  To the driver with the white Harrier registration DAS xxx, I’ve got my eyes trained on you. *wags finger*

Next time, you think you’d want to cross words with me, do learn a thing or two about ethics and morale, and probably learn to speak some adult words too.  Malu lah!

Result:  FLIGHT with pride.

Episode 2:

MrGart’s away on work stuff and I was doing Maths exercises with the girls.  I had Asha doing her Maths, a level lower than hers is.  She’s been really really under performing, failing her tests and all.  In fact, today I decided to stop her from her KAFA in the afternoon to focus on her school work.

Anyway.

I lost my cool.  I lost my temper.  I pulled her ear.  I ticked her earlobe.  I slapped her on her shoulder.  I turned red.  I yelled.  I lost it.  On a person I love.  She sobbed.  She cried.  She blew her nose on a tissue and had teardrops on the math page.

I shamefully did that to my 10-year old daughter, over some math questions.  I am ashamed and haven’t I vowed that I would persevere ? Didn’t I promise Asha that I would work on my anger?

I listened to a talk on the radio this morning, about how anger is ingrained in humans.  It’s not about eliminating anger, it’s about managing it.  Too little, you become a coward, too much, you’re out of control.

So, I’m making a pledge today that I will try the best that I can to have this anger under wraps.  I so need to do this.

Result:  FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT.  For Asha, it’s worth battling this.

Boys do the most unthinkable things. Like hopping and knocking himself against the table’s edge which has been there like before he was even born and had a nasty cut on his nose bridge. Any lower, it would’ve resulted in a broken nose.

That was Wednesday night.

Last Friday, we had a wedding dinner invitation and the kids showered. Ariz just came out of the shower and I was just finished praying Asr. Suddenly he leaned backward with a loud thud and started to shake with eyes rolled up.

I picked him up, calling his name again and again with no response. Carried him to the tap to sponge him down. He had fever the night before and he’s had 3 febrile seizures before and I knew the drill, but the last one was more than 2 years ago.  I honestly thought he’d outgrown it.

When he came to, he was still listless and I rushed to get more tap water to wet his head and body and I put him of the bed. I slipped and fell in the toilet and hurt my ankle which I never felt until all was over.  It was pure adrenaline at that point in time.

Ayisha was at tuition. Aliya was my pillar of strength when MrGart was not home. She asked me whether to go to the clinic or straight to the hospital or to call for an ambulance. She called my twin for advice and Adani grabbed Ariz’s clothes. Decided to go to the clinic for the much needed voltaren  suppository to lower the fever. My stock has expired.  Turned out his temp was 39.6C. Very high.  Spiky high.

He was talking by then, protesting to be sponged down. I was able to speak then, instead of choked with tears. Writing this brings tears to my eyes, still.

We were asked to go straight to the ER of SDeeMC and I refused admission after securing an appoitment with the pediatric neurologist today. Ariz had no noticeable fever then on.

We went to see the neurologist today and although she was sure that he would grow out of the seizures by the time he turns 6, she cautions us that some kids do develop epilepsy. And most cases may be controlled with drugs.

Since its hereditary, we went through the family history and it was clear that it’s MrGart’s side again. With the eczema, the sinus, the athma and now the seizures. I felt like crying there and then. I didn’t know hat I was thinking. I smiled confidently at the doctor but my heart sank.

I’ve been reading about febrile seizures and epilepsy and am not entirely comforted either.  I felt like I should have him under my eye all the time.  I felt helpless.  I felt so scared of the what-ifs because those are serious what-ifs.

O’Allah, I seek refuge in you. I ask of your protection on Ariz. I ask of your mercy on him. Grant him good health.

I need a good cry. The kind that makes you sob and you sob and sob again before you pick yourself up, believing that you can do this. There’s a reason for everything. Then I found Kelle Hampton‘s blog. In February, she gave birth to the most beautiful baby girl called Nella Cordelia, who has Down Syndrome. I cried reading this post and I felt so moved by her honesty in the way that she writes.

I took strength in her and if she could shoulder up and face the world, then I can do it too. After all, my problems are so so much pettier than hers are.

Do pray for us. Only time will tell and that only Allah knows.

Street shopping in typical Asian cities would definitely require one to bargain for at least 50% off the quoted price of anything at all.

It is rampant in Bangkok, Bandung, Cebu City, Kuala Lumpur, Kota Kinabalu and the likes.

Being Asian, one would imagine that I have the skill to negotiate for a better price for that bangle or those pearls at the  Philippines Market at KK.  Heck!  I sit in teams to negotiate power agreements worth billions of ringgit.  Surely, I could bargain.

Sadly.  I don’t.  It’s not that I can’t.  It’s more that I won’t.

I mean I would bargain for some significant purchases like a car or a house.  But for a cheap souvenirs or t-shirts, I don’t think so.  Even though the travel agent or drivers would always remind us to do it.

I keep thinking that if the bangle is RM5, winning a negotiation for a discount of a further RM2 is not going to make me any richer.  But it makes that seller RM2 poorer.  And she’s already down and out.  And the ways some people bargain, are just pure extortion.  They whisper, and they pout and they throw tantrum for a mere RM10 off their purchases.  Heck!  Woman!  Look at yourself with your branded sunnies and you travel Business Class and yet you’re beating this seller for a mere RM10.  Please!

So, people, that’s why I don’t bargain.

People tell me too that these sellers or peddlers make a lot of money anyways, so we might as well bargain for a better price.  Well, if they do, then good on them.

p/s my freezer is stocked to the brim with fish and prawns and squids from Sabah fish market, super fresh and at unbelievably crazy prices.

Maybe ?

Probably not. But I plan to catch up.

Instead we were here for the last 4 days. At Kota Kinabalu, Sabah, the state where the Mount Kinabalu looms high.

Fun fun trip, except that I came home with a bad heat rash on my face (seems to happen on my every island holiday), a sore throat and a sickly self and a feeling that I can’t eat another crab or huge prawn for at least 5 months.

A very similar boat we went on at the Klias Wetlands.

WHile we were there, we went on a Klias River Wetlands Safari, looking out for these proboscis monkeys with funny noses and after a BBQ dinner, switched all lights from the boathouse, oohing and aahinng over the thousands of fireflies, illuminating the trees. Really magical. I actually felt the scene in The Princess and the Frog, when Loiuse the crocodile and Raymond the firefly took them to the Mama Odies’s place. The boat house we were in was similar.

We went island hopping, well 2 islands. Manukan was kinda dissapointing as the water’s not clear. It rained the night before apparently.

Manukan Island, Sabah

Sapi Island meanwhile was just idyllic. Water’s clear, we snorkelled and spotted more fish and some corals. We lingered and by the time we were to leave, the sky darkened and there weren’t a lot of poeple around. Then it rained, a raging storm. We waited for our boat in the howling wind and huge raindrops in our wet clothes.

I was getting really worried about the boat trip back to Kota Kinabalu in that rain. Luckily the boatman came and asked us to wait out for the rain. Finally, we left the island, shivering cold as the strong wind blew. I was relieved when I saw the jetty.

Ariz, Adani, Aliya and Asha were all shivering and their fingertips were wrinkled. But I was glad they took it in good spirit.

Sapi Island, Sabah.

More later, folks.

1. Yesterday’s interview for a senior post in the Kompeni went pretty well, I’d say. I was calm enough, I hope and the essay that I did was I felt alright. Though, some said that I didn’t get some of the facts right. Yikes! Anyways.

2. Rear car type popped this morning and I never realised it. It took a cute young guy to tell me after I’ve parked my car that my tyre’s completely flat for me to realise that it had tears in it. Gosh! What did I run over? A curb? Definitely not! Dang! *counts money*

3. The lump under my arm stays in, says the doctor. *phew*

4. Despite the many wedding invitations, I haven’t been to any, not even Aeni & Fairuz’s. Shame on me, I know!

5. Met Ariz’s classmate at MissKLSentral’s new eating place, Ayers Rock at d’Bayu, Bukit Jelutong which is superb for fresh grilled stuff. Anyways, a chat with the mother, (Ariz’s friend, not MissKLSentral) revealed that the friend was breastfed for 4 years too. Hey! Lega! I thought I was alone in breastfeeding Ariz for 4 years and 3 months. That long!

This is one of those days when you wish that the days would just whizz by you and hope that you’d wake to a Saturday morning, looking out to the sea, the breeze in your air and the kids’ laughter in the background.

That I hope, insyallah will be on Saturday.

Meanwhile. This is Wednesday. And tomorrow is Thursday. Yikes!

Nothing mega-sensational happens today, except that I’m seeing my friendly doctor to remove a lump under my arm. The swelling’s all gone and the lump’s gotta go It’ll be a day care thing and I’d be out the door by day’s end. Insyaallah.

What is a lot of worrying is the interview I have tomorrow morning. There’s been a lot of drama culminating in me finally submitting my application for this career move a month ago.

This would a new place, a new environment, a whole of of new people and a new set of work of which new management skills are needed. Out of MY box. And it was out of my mind until it dawned on me that I just had to do it.

And it’s here. The letter calling me for the interview.

Trying to read things and understand more things so I can ace it. But above all, I hope that if I get it, it’ll be for my benefit and if I don’t, then there’s a silver lining to it too.

Life’s never fair, that much I learned already. That’s why we’re here. If it were, we’d be in Paradise.

Anyways.

*goes back to wiki-ing and google-ing for info*

For two weeks that is.

Lucky for me, I have work. *evil face*

Well, not really. Tomorrow am taking a day off to take the girls Adani and Ayisha for a clay-craft class. And this Saturday, we’re off to Kota Kinabalu, Sabah for an island holiday. WHoohoo! It’ll be sun, boats, beach and snorkelling.

You know how families evolve, in the manner of things they do, which always abide by the youngest member of the family’s readiness for anything at alll.

Since Ariz (now 5 and a half years)’d been of the boobies and is able to stand, sit and relatively able to take instruction (am still teaching him to walk instead of run, hop, skip or even dragging himself of fthe floors), we’ve embarked in more adventurous stuff.

Like movie-watching. Adventurous? Try bringing a 3yo into a cinema. You’d be shooed-out or dished with angry glares and stares, and not to mention, the many loo trips and whatnots.

And of course, island holidays. We live in a country where islands are abound and what a waste it is to confine ourselves to the safe beaches. So, since Ariz has more or less shook off his dislike of sand on his feet and water that moves on its own (like waves and the runs of waterfalls), we tried Pulau Redang last year.

A blast it was. So, here we go again. To the land Under The Wind (eh, ye ke? in Malay it’s Negeri DIibawah Bayu).

*makes a long list of things to get before we get on that plane*

Any ideas?

Taken from the tireless AsH.

Indeed.

*counts wedding invitation cards on my table*

6 invitations and the holidays are only 2 weeks long. My parents would I imagine, have at least double mine. My 6 is probably minimal by Malaysian standard, I guess.

For what its worth, I’m happy that these friends and families are tying marriage knots and I pray for their happiness and blessed future together.

Wedding cookies for a wedding. Shirin’s I think.

Close-up 1

Close-up 2

Today I will love my child unconditionally, and I will try my best to express that love, at times which are most beneficial to my child.

Taken from Parenting Tips from KhalifahTraining.

Taking the cue from Amber Fischer who, by the way phenomenally gorgeous pictures of babies, toddlers. mischievous boys and sweet girls, along with their mummies and daddies.

How I wish I could do something like that. Explore photography and make printed and cherished memories. Sigh!

Anyway, Amber does a Ten On Tuesday when she lists 10 completely unrelated things on a tuesday. And since I feel like I sometimes or rather most of the times have no interesting events happening to me in my not so exciting life, I guess I should bore you with my 10s. And since ten begins with a t, which makes great phrase with tuesday or thursday, but tuesdays are too hectic, I’ll take thursday. So, here goes.

1. Took away Ayisha’s phone last night as a punishment for crying and skipping Ad-Daris. She said that she has a headache and all which I don’t think she does because she was ready for the night classes which she likes. The Ad-Daris she dreads. Sigh!

2. I love electric green

3. My friendly breast surgeon wanted me to have a minor surgery to remove an infected lump under my armpit, thursday next week. Yikes!

4. The moulds on my office walls are back. They painted it but now they’re back, yellow and raised and heck! My infected lump must have had some connection to the sick building syndrome.

5. Have an important career progression interview next Monday and I’ve learned nothing at all. Panicking! There’ll be an essay writing exercise too, just to gauge the applicant’s ability to coherently and articulately write things. Yikes!

6. The world in indeed a small place. The surgeon I saw yesterday was a super senior at school, the glorious Convent Bukit Nanas and she also lives at Bukit Jelutong. Indeed!

7. There’s not a lot of people in the country who have rooms as messy as mine. Organised chaos!

8. House renovation in its 6th month and hitting a stumbling block. A lot of sms-es around. Waiting for kitchen cabinets to be installed and then we can move next door and let the contractors work on the left side of the house.

9. The “car” which has arrived from Bristol for the past 3 weeks is still sitting in the holding yard at the port, while waiting for clearance from Immigration and whatnots. *getting impatient*

10. thursday already?

A state crime.

A terror inflicted upon a peace mission.

I am appalled at the arrogance of the Israelis soldiers.

I feel for you Gazans and I pray for you and your peace seekers.

Insyallah.

BBC News

Free choice week is back! *glee*

And I am far behind, I know. *head hung low*

But as an excuse, all my leg muscles are aching from the 25km cycling I did with MrGart on Friday. BTW, they are right. Clipless pedals on roadbikes are just amazing. Footworks are easier and I actually felt less stress. And of course, not falling off the bike at all, was a huge relief. I had nightmares thinking about it, actually!

What my foot would look like in its cycling shoes. Mine’s white, BTW.

Well, despite that, I had real issue choosing which cake to do this weekend. A case of spoilt for choices, methinks. That deep an issue that I almost ditched a Free Choice Weekend. Sad eh?

Anyhow. Decided upon a the Gateau Breton midway through Sunday after realising that I have not a lot of fancy ingredients in my fridge and I was just lazy to traipse down to the bakery supplies shop.

But I needed almond, 42g of those slivers. Rummaging through my freezer, I found a small bundle and miraculously it weighed exactly 42g. Taraaa!! I felt like dancing and skipping around after this small achievement. Guess that was the hardest step in making this.

Anyhow, I’ve always wanted to try the similar recipe in the Cake Bible but have never gotten round to it and I guess now’s the perfect time, since I missed the week it was baked.

It was pretty easy, seriously and in the mixer the butter and sugar and the yolks. BTW, eggs in Malaysia are always always larger than the LARGE eggs in the book. Theyr’e always like 60-65g per egg, instead of 50g. But some of them have small yolks. Hmmm .. surely I can deduce something about this correlation. *ponders* NOT!

Well, Marie was right. The kitchen bloomed in the wafts of the cake. It felt homey, almost domestically goddesyy in all its glory, if you ignore the mess on the coffee table and the bickering kids and the toys on the floor. *yikes*

Well, here it is.
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The gateau, all shiny and gloriously yellow.

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The close-up. I’m not sure if I’ve underbaked this but it went for 40 mins (than suggested 35-45mins). Look in the center. But it sure tasted wonderful. Buttery and cakey but yet crunchy.

Aliya and MrGart finished their slices and were picking up crumbs. Adani and Ayisha picked at the crunchy bits and Ariz poked at his. It never amazes to see other people’s kids lapping at every baked stuff and mine turn their noses at them. Spoilt for choice, again, I think. And why is it that with all this fattening, buttery, cakey stuff in the house, my kids don’t seem to put on weight when some kids are just brimming on the verge of obesity ? I should be thankful. I am. *ponders again*

I sent some to Ninuk and MissKLSentral while the gateau was still warm in my fancy flowery paper plates and great feedbacks I get. Yay!

The other cake. Lemon-syruped sponge cake, part of a wedding cake.

I’ve never been an enemy to Mondays. All days come and all days go, then they come again and they go.

*free tip to blogging: reiterate wordsto lengthen your post effectively, whilst looking clever*

But I had one of those whirlpool, blitzy Mondays ever.

Day started fine and chaos began in the afternoon meeting I had with PJ. Felt like a real Lost in the 80s moment. People in jackets, speaking real Malay in perfect tense and politeness all around. I felt suffocated and by 4pm, I had a blinding headache from all the niceties.

Ooooo … traffic home was horrendous today. The opposite lane was completely blocked off by the police and I learned later that a fatal accident involving a pedestrian and a gleaming Alphard, with its nose all dented occured. One pedestrian and they clsed the whole 4-lane roads? And the cleaning of the road? Sounds like gory pirces of flesh on the road. Gory gory gory! Well, some think they can outrun cars downhill. Think again, peep!

Didn’t have time to cook proper dinner and just fried some german sausages with herbs and chives, tossed them in the oven with a sprinkling of cheese, since Aliya mentioned she loves cheese better than any herbs, or any greenie stuff.

Lily came short after to pick her cookies for little Mikail and we had the most animated chat ever, ot’s as if I’ve known her for years. And of course, she said that I didn’t look my age at all. *gloats and in a bubble*

Today is SKBJ’s Teacher’s Day celebration day and I was so busy sorting out gifts for the teachers which the kids picked out last weekend. Those printed chocolates which I thought was a darn good idea. Not to mention, cheap too. I paid RM50 for about 10 pieces of loose boxes of chocolates about an inch in size, 2 ribboned gift boxes of choclates and a box of teddy bear choc. In the midst of it all, we lost one to Ariz. I tried to pry the chocolate off his molars, but it’s a goner alright!

That done. Adani decided to bring a smaller bag to school since she’s going in the morning. Instead of picking a bag from the mountain of bags we have in the house (I swear, if I were to tip the house upside down and shake it all around, 1034 bags will tumble out, 699 hair brushes and combs will emerge), Adani demanded to use the pretty white with beaded flowers slingbag I bought secondhand at Pasar Tani for about RM3.

Only problem was it’s too long for her. I had to stitch it all up for her. I thought Desperate Housewives was on last night and after much heckling and failed negotiation with Ariz-the-Remote-Control-freak, I gained control of the tv only to realise that it was Monday and not Tuesday. Darn! Back to Oso then. BTW, what’s with this OSO inspector. I mean, he flies all the way from a cave somewhere just to help a kid button up his shirt? And always always in 3 SIMPLE STEPS ? Listen Oso, life’s more than 3 simple steps. hokeh!

And of course Nonah and Nina read my post today on the Lemon Cheesecake and out of my goodheartedness, I offered to bake some for them and I had a wonderful email exchanges with Nonah. Esok okay, babe?

That was, fellow readers how I just spent my Monday. Blitzkrieg!

p/s Just heard that a good friend’s house was broken into (more like the thieves jumped over the gates) and raped her maid, whilst the 3-yo girl hid under a pillow. I felt really bad for the maid and my friend. The maid’s going home for good after her ordeal on the 30th. If you feel like donating to her, email me and I can pass it on to her. The maid protected the baby girl and ensured that those men didn’t hurt her. Astaghfirullahaladzim.

It’s been a month since Rex died. We caught Asha crying looking at Rex’s pictures in MrGart’s phone a few times. Even I cried as I felt her pain. She tilted her head and tears came streaming down her face.

Bubbles the cat, Rex’s half paternal brother is affected quite badly. I think he misses Rex a lot. It’s been them two all the time and Rex was always the one who’s more adventurous and mischievous. Bubbles, is the cautious cat.

Since Rex died, Bubbles became a real house cat. His eczema flared badly and the vet had to shave off his fur completely. He then refused to leave the house.

When we let him out of his cage in the morning, he goes upstairs meowing loudly, searching for people. He’d be rustling up next to you, needing a stroke or two and would always be found at your feet in the kitchen. He is especially attached to Asha and Ariz. Asha showered him with love and Ariz is a great play friend. Me, he craves for attention and he calls for me everytime I have the door closed for prayers.

Is that even possible? A depressed cat? He’s not crying or anything, just very clingy. Super-clingy and we’re not quite complaining. When they say, Maine Coons are needy, very loving cats, they’re not kidding.

There’s only one problem with the newly clingy version of Bubbles, Aliya’s annoyance level increased skyhigh. She’s already cat-o-phobic (if there’s such a word) and having Bubbles in the house all the time, just doesn’t agree with her. So how now brown cow?

And of course, having just lost a cat, having one so clingy and so loving puts fears in my heart when the time comes when we lose him. Asha can’t go through another loss. She’d be devastated. I would be too. I’ve been talking to Bubbles a lot in the past month and I felt too attached to him already.

Sigh!

I guess that’s why hearts are that way.

A week’s late, I know. *head hung low*

Am thinking of an excuse but I really don’t a have a great one.  Just a few weeks of being through a roller-coaster of events and I guess it’s about time I get back to baking.

And since I miss baking, I made the trifle, a lemon cake as well as some cake pops. I must have really missed my baking, huh! The lemon cake was a Peggy Porchen lemon sponge layer cake, iced with the superb Rose’s new revamped Mousseline buttercream perfumed with Cake Bible’s Lemon Curd.  I even made 2 and a half roses from syruped lemon peel, rolled up.  A half because I didn’t manage to keep the last lemon in one long peel.  Shucks!

And I should announce to the world that I only attemped the Mousseline butercream because … *drum rolls* .. I now my very own THERMAPEN!

Whoohoo ! I danced a little jug when I held it in my palm. Such adrenaline rush, from a thermometer. *shakes head* Anyways, it came all the way from Bristol, courtesy of my uncle and I’m so ready to attempt anything that requires me to take the temp of anything within 4 secs. *gloats*

Anyhow, the mousseline was a dream. Unfortunately, my camera acted up again and I couldn’t find its pictures in it, nor in my phone. Am so getting a new one after this. *imagining throwing the camera on a brick*

I should also mention that owning only one kitchenaid bowl didn’t help, I wished I had 2. But I decided to beat the eggwhites and the syrup stuff first and transfer it to a larger bowl, waiting for it to cool from 47C to 21C, in the freezer. *gloats still*

I then beat the butter and upon knowing *gloats* its temp has climbed to above 21C, sat it in an ice bath. Those two combinedm produced a silky, light smooth buttercream in minutes. I was so impressed and I was even more delightfully suprised that the lemon curd added a new dimension.

Well, I digress. The trifle.

I knew that I had to make this trifle from the very first flips of the book. And the chiboust cream intrigued me. But the thing that got me scouring all the malls in KL was finding the trifle bowl. Pulling out my teeth was easier. Err, maybe not.

Gosh! Either it’s too blue, or too green, or it’s too narrow at the bottom, too wide at the mouth, too square, too oval, too this and too that .. too huge like 14″, it’s a vase or a flower stand or it has a great clear glass with a stand but there’s a hole in the stand. What?? And they all were pricey.

At the very last minute when I was ready to ditch it and make the trifle in a mixing bowl, I remembered a ceramics store at Shah Alam, called Romantika and I found, or rather Aliya found the exact bowl that Rose had in the book. And it cost me RM29, which is less than USD10. I almost danced with glee, if it’s not for Aliya staring at me with her slitty eyes, threathening me not to embarass her in public. Well, she spotted the bowl first, so, I spared her that humiliation, right after I’ve already bought a RM7 green straight backed bowl.

Anyways.

The bowl’s 8 inchs wide and my genoise’s 9. Should’ve trimmed the sides and removed the brown sides, but I only learned that on layers 3 and 4. In fact, while I felt good and really competent, I realised after all was stacked up and the last drop of the cream had been slathered on, that I realised that I forgot to brush syrup on the topmost layer. Yikes!

Ah well.

The 4 layers and the cream and the strawberries all fit miraculously in that one bowl and I was so pleased with myself. And there I was in the car, holding a full trifle bowl for the 30 minutes drive to my aunties’ place in Seremban.

Verdict: A show-stopper. A limelight robber. It was amazing. The cream I piped too near the edges of the bowl, dripped down but the chiboust cream was a dream. The genoise was superb. I had 3 servings, uhmm maybe 4. And before long, it was all gone. Unbelievably good. I am so making this again.

The mothers in the house that Mothers’ Day was so ecstatic and that’s just swell. I love you girls!
p/s I wasn’t brave enough to attempt the sugar. *shivers* maybe one day. hopefully!

A mother doesn’t need to remind her how much her child loves her, nor does she need a bouquet of flowers as a testament of how deeply profound an impact she’s made to her children and how she glues the family together.

Clearly, I received any hugs and kisses. Wet ones especially. I got a huge pink heart lollipop made by Ariz at school and flowers promises from Adani. Ayisha is making a card she refuses to let me see until she shows it to her teacher and Aliya seems to be nonchalant about the whole thing.

But it’s never the end of the world for me either. A boss had her teenage daughter posted a video of her playing guitar dedicating a song to her and I read with envy the flowers and the breakfasts other mothers get. But silently, I read too about the mothers who are no longer around and that I am.

Well, the day was spent at my auntie’s as we have the usual clan’s get together doa selamat and makan-makan. I made a huge Saint Honour trifle which was the star attraction, ehem ehem and some cake pops. Us cousins bought another cake for our aunties i.e. mothers above the age of 40 to cut the cake and to celebrate with them. It was a fine day, food-ish sort of day and a great Sunday.

My own Mak is one role model I have no chance of emulating, regardless how much I try. I used to resent her strict upbringing on us and now I wished I had started earlier with mine.

She was a teacher and juggled teaching and kids and she hardly yelled at us all. She instilled in us the love of books from very early on and I was a voracious reader too, thanks to the Perpustakaan Kanak-Kanak at Jalan Tun Razak where we get to spend the Saturdays when she was at the school tending to co-curriculum activities.

My defining moment came the day I left for the UK when I was barely 17. She cried and it was so hard to let me go and I never did cry. It was true that those get left behind suffer more than those going and through the 5 years I was there, she sent me letters upon letters, it’s as if I never left as I knew exactly how everything was, some 13,000 km away. One news she never did tell me in the letters was when my grandfather, Wan passed away and it hit us bad.

I still have in my office drawers, a few of her letters. My twin, GartRed was studying at Liverpool for my final 3 years at the UK and I was at Manchester. Mak solved the problem of being fair to both twins in writing letters by making sure she wrote an even number of pages per letter. And she made sure that I get original copies of say pages 1 and 3, GartRed gets pages 2 and 4. Being fair was important to her.

Well, Happy Mother’s Day Mak! I know I don’t say it quite often enough but I love you to no end and thank you so so the very much for every single good thing that I do, which you have taught me to do.

The official picture in the news. Picture comes from the Waterfall Survivors blog here.

Location was Sg. Kedondong, somewhere near Batang Kali. Idyllic place, except that that day was also the by-election for that locality to elect new MP as the current has passed away.

So, along the way there were a lot of heckling, a lot of flags and adult men and women in their respective party colours, holding placards and flags pleading for votes. There were a lot of police forces too, in varying colours, dark green, dark blue and white uniforms. I even saw a dark police Humvee parked by the sideroad. Darn! A Humvee in this sleepy hollow. Ruling party must be desperate!.

Anyhow. I brought the whole gang-bang to clean up Sg Kedondong with some other 200 participants from many organisations. Good thing we were supplied with gloves as the trash we found was bizarre.

I picked up broken glass jug and a knife. Ayisha and Aliya picked up cigarettes boxes and plastic bags. Ariz asked me every 10 minutes when he could jump into the river. Adani was so consumed with the glove on her hand, she just admired herself. I was so glad I brought the kids as this provided an excellent opportunity to teach them to be kind to nature and not to litter.

The trash-picking session ended in about an hour and a half and that was 2 tonnes of trash, including a lorry’s tyre. Some joker must have thought that the tyre could float. The tube la wei!

We made our way to the spot we had earlier targetted for the dip in the water and it was so cold and the water’s deep too. The kids had so much fun and the company was great.

Ariz and his rocks collection. I wasthe lowly paid labour who had to fish rocks from the bottom of the river for him to inspect and deem satisfactory.

We came home, exhausted and later I found out that my E71 was a victim of soaked in the water, without me realising it. Expecting the worse and excited over the prospect of an iPhone, the guy at the phone repair place loudly proclaimed that the phone’s fine, with the exception of a dead LCD and a dead battery.

Other than that. All was well. Shucks!

.. is when you’re right smack into it.

Am taking the day off I arrived home past 11pm from the Philipines. The trip home was rather uneventful. Well, considering that we pulled very late nights most night we were there like 1-2am every night, I slept through the 2 legs of flights.

The first leg was the Cebu to Kota Kinabalu, then transit for 30 mins at KK’s spankingly brand new airport and then Kota Kinabalu to KL. The sky over Kota Kinabalu has always been very cloudy and when we were above it, it was so amazing to look out the window, cloud-watching. Since it’s almost a trend these with posts by rotidua on bulucirrus and Mendungimbus
as well as Lollies’ great writeup on cloud here, I wouldnt miss posting my own-cloud entry too.

But what I saw most was these clouds. They were thick and creamy and white and when the plane flew into it, a lot of bumps and rattles were felt. The captain forbade any hot drinks due to turbulence but I managed to get my mug of black coffee still. Bliss!

Image from Lollies.

It was just amazing to see how thick these clouds looked and how wispy they actually were once you’re close enough. And it brought fear in my heart too when we’re going into gray clouds and the plane shook a little.

On the flight out to Cebu, we flew right next to Mount Kinabalu and I was so in awe of the majestic peak, with clouds circling it.

Ciao.