Msiagirl

Blog Hiatus

2010-02-22T20:03:00.002Z

Just a note for people clicking through from Twitter! I didn't realise there were so many of you. My apologies for having just old archives here and no new posts. I think I subsituted Twitter for my blog. I wish there was a way to tweet and have it just posted up here. Someone make a simple app, please. I am a real person and I blogged for two years. I did really love blogging, but it took too long for me. Best wishes - you can follow me on Twitter if you like @msiagirl.

Facebook game...on pg 57 instead (poem by Anne Carson)

2008-12-04T23:28:00.002Z

XIII. IT IS A MONOPRINT OF DEGAS SHOWING A WOMAN'S HEAD FROM THE BACK CALLED THE JET EARRING

Inside information.
He sought her. He sought her everywhere. Through the nakednesses
of his imagination. In sorrow. In foxholes. As deer flicker way off in a wood in late
winter.

He knew he would destroy the deer.

He sought her in her virginity everywhere in it (fray'd and fled) from top to bottom
of the little looms of the whitish green and the shivering.
He sought her in the ribbon of her missal.
In the faded black smell of its sateen.
In punctuality.

He sought her in the word mistress but she wasn't there, he should
have sheltered in that doorway from the beginning but now
it was night.

He made night seek her too.

Possible night, impossible night, pegs, strings, stringing her to her own
impersonation of
him.

His hand to brush a mark from his face it was her face.

Hesitate,
oh hesitate.

from The Beauty of the Husband

I've lost my mittens

2008-12-03T11:07:00.003Z

Dessert table, Whippornock Manor, Thanksgiving 2008

Poor little kitten,
She's lost her mittens,
And has a good idea where to find them:
In gracious Virginia,
She's left them somewhere...
She's trying not to cry.

Poor little kitten,
She's lost her red mittens,
And shouldn't be sad that she lost them:
In gracious Virginia,
Remembering being there,
'Cos she had 5 kinds of pie.

Random posting to say sorry I've been away and more postings of a Virginia Homegirl to come later...

Wot I Et: Minute Steak on a Friday Night

2008-10-25T08:43:00.002+01:00

You know how Fridays are the ends of long weeks, and your energy is like the last little bit left on the soap-on-a-roap?? An easy dinner is what needs to lay the week to bed.

Maybe one day I'll learn how to take pictures in the dark...

2008-10-17T00:07:00.001+01:00

New Poem - Thursday is writing day

2008-10-09T13:24:00.004+01:00

Work (first draft)
National Poetry Day, Bath UK 2008

When the work of going to the office
Fell away from me
The smooth clack of to do lists ticking
The ordered stationery
The linear threads of projects following through each other
My hands were empty of myself
And full of uncertainty.

Full of tiny lives and the mad blue hours
Awake when the restless horde on trains seemed still
Looking out onto moonlit gardens
At our unkempt hedges
My own raggedy attempts
To claw back the ravages to my will
Say this is work.

Working love invisible
Each fold each smooth each bend
Soggy runnels of water
Clothes plates children floors eyes
Overflowing
I am more and more invisible
Each day full, each day filled
Needs more work, needs more love.

Needs the still center, like I need it
Walking the knife blade, burns
Meridians blossoming beneath my hands
Light crackling, intent on showing paths
Full, I am the empty vase
Trusting to the adept work of my palms.

by ppo

copyright remains with the author October 2008
Photo by Kak Teh

Freesias and First Love

2008-10-08T19:28:00.003+01:00

The bittersweet green smell of freesias reminds me of when we were young and starry eyed, and although we had no money and hardly a stick of furniture between us, I'd still sometimes get a bunch of freesias, or lilies or red tulips.

Fireballs shoot up high in middle of new construction, Bath

2008-09-23T17:53:00.004+01:00

It happened after 5pm so hoping there weren't any fatalities. Two or three big explosions and fireballs rose up accompanied by thick black smoke. It looks under control now although the sirens are still wailing through town and the train station is closed. Trains are stopping at the small station before the middle of Bath - Oldfield Park. BBC says it was just a gas canister...must've been a big gas canister!

Wot I Et: Paprika Chilli Prawns on Squid Ink Pasta

2008-09-04T13:48:00.000+01:00

Merdeka 51

2008-08-31T10:50:00.001+01:00

Saw this is in an old framing shop!

To A Lyrical Girlfriend

2008-08-27T09:48:00.001+01:00

Lyrical Lady
Girl after my own heart
You’re the only one I’ll go handbag shopping with
The only one, I’ll consult
on egg tart.

Lyrical Lady
Girl after my own heart
You’re the only one who’ll drink chai with me
Warm, spicy one
From the start.

Lyrical Lady
Girl after my own heart
You’re the one who’ll discuss love lives with me
About The One,
Y’know, till death do us part.

Lyrical Lady
Girl after my own heart
You’re the only one who’ll write with me
But is the Blogger
Queen of Food and Art.

Lyrical Lady
Girl after my own heart
You’re the only one who’ll share sashimi with me
With the proper reverence and care
And get the closest we can park.

Lyrical Lady
Girl after my own heart
You’re the only one who can spank Kenny with me
And get away with it
In the dark.

Lyrical Lady
Girl after my own heart
You’re the only one I’ll make pavlovas for
When you visit me,
If I’m smart.

Lyrical Lady
Girl after my own heart
You’re the one I wish a happy day to
And would sing to,
Like a lark.

Happy Birthday to my special friend, Lyrical Lemongrass.

Blog Holiday

2008-07-03T01:11:00.003+01:00

After my trip to Malaysia, it seems I am on Blogholiday too. My kitchen is still being finished, I'm cooking in it now and will post a few pics before and after. It has really taken all my attention to get it done. And we have had/ are having/ will have some wonderful and lovely people to stay - this house is an amazingly sociable house. I can't be antisocial and BLOG while they are here, can I? Sigh, it seems like I can only do this in the wee hours of the morning, with the rain drumming on the conservatory roof. I love that sound. I keep saying it on twitter. It's a lovely comforting sound. The wind blowing the leaves of the trees, make the lights of town twinkle even more madly. This picture is one of the alliums in my garden. It is quite a giant one, I posted this on twitpic - cool app. If I didn't have a blog I would just twitter and twitpic. I congratulate myself that I put enough sockets round the breakfast bar that I can sit here on my computer as long as I like, but since it is so late, dear reader, must bid you adieu. And I'll be back soon. Very soon.

Sportsister! Check it out.

2008-05-16T20:20:00.002+01:00

This is a screen shot of my friend's webzine. Click on it to get there. I've written an article in the clinic section about ointments and strains. Do have a look here. I hope I can be the regular aromatherapist on here. You don't have to be a girl to sign up and support sport and fitness! However, of course, the site will focus on women in sport.

Flying to Penang. Going home.

2008-05-16T20:00:00.005+01:00

We are away for two weeks tomorrow, back home to Malaysia. Hope to see some of you while I'm there. Sharon has kindly asked me to read again at Readings! I'm really honoured. So be there 3pm 24th May at Seksan's in Bangsar, KL.

Just waiting for my first taste of nasi lemak.

Probably won't get a chance to post much till I get back, as my hands will be full of family.

Herbs and flowers in my garden

2008-05-03T00:24:00.003+01:00

Mr G went to Costa Rica and this is what he saw

2008-05-03T00:12:00.003+01:00

Hummingbirds are my favourite! My Totem: Remember Joy.

Aqua on Walcot Street, April

2008-04-10T19:53:00.012+01:00

Okay so it was my birthday in April and I didn't get a post in. I confess. My food blogging ability is only minimally improved since last year, so I better stick to Wot I Et, which is like a cafe version of a food blog.

I had a few celebrations, April is the cruellest month for cake in this house.

My littlest and I share a birthday, so we went out to Aqua for a posh I-talian.

The service was polite, and the children, very grown up, managed their cutlery without much mishap. They had pizza and garlic bread which looked like the same thing except the garlic bread had no tomato on it...

I had the seafood skewer to start - something with pesce in it. The maitre was somewhat approving of my accent while ordering.

It was juicy and came on a bed of rather delicious, tender green beans.

Mr G had the gorgonzola porcini. I was permitted one bite.

The mains were well cooked but not terribly exciting, however, perfectly nice as a family lunch. G had the stuffed chicken with chorizo on the bed of spinach and cream sauce and I had the calves liver with gnocchi. It was pretty good. It came with mushroom and onion. I'm always a little fascinated by the carb power of gnocchi, and the bits of sage involved.

I think Aqua is a chain restaurant and they have one in Bristol as well. It's nicely laid out, and when we arrived at 12 noon, there was no problem seating us, though we had booked ahead. They were nice to the kids, which is a plus in the UK. Many places are not very child friendly, though italian places usually are fine.

Well, viva la dolce vita, then. Another year passes by.

March Tooth Fairy pays us a visit

2008-03-25T23:20:00.001Z

I am the Spring fairy
I am the fairy of Daffodils
I am the fairy of Hyacinths
I am the Snowdrop fairy.

I am the new green Grass
I am the Frost and Sleet
I am the Rainbow and the New Moon
I am the fairy of Beginnings.

I am the fairy come to take
your tooth
I am the fairy to fly it home
Home through moonlight
Owlight, starlight
Grasping the tail of a comet
Plunging through the heart of a secret lake

You can call me Serelia.

We come full circle, blogversary

2008-03-15T21:11:00.005Z

The wild garlic was unfurling along the cliff as it is now. I began writing this blog in March last year, tentatively, speaking to my many selves, speaking from my many selves. Hoping to bring them all together into a whole and connected one. I think I've succeeded, because nowadays, I'm a lot more comfortable in my own skin. I'm a lot less afraid of what I might find, well anywhere. Bringing light to dusty corners of your psyche can do that for you. Finding amazing friends and community along the way, that's a truly unexpected blessing. Thank you my friends, and my mentors, my guides along this journey.

Here is a poem about voice and grief. Many, many years ago now, I attended a funeral of a girl in my class, she was a young mother, she was diagnosed with a particularly fast acting form of leukemia and was dead before many of us even found out about it. As I drove through the evening home through the landscape of rural New York, this was just like what the spirit of place was saying:

Bare Boughs still this Spring
(In memoriam)

Rain and apple trees.
Lilac buds swell on black stems,
Secret, clitoral, rapt.

I can’t untie this knot, deep
where things come from, deep
at the bottom of my voice.
Joy, sprung rhythm,
clenched and petrified:
A fist, that born words batter against.
A fever in the blood.

By the stream, the clay leans
toward the water, eager for swiftness,
eager to reflect the sky,
Deadpan.

Only the colours of old paint,
Spread and bloom,
Like roots.

Don't let this be a gloomy poem - the spring here and now, is full of hope. Let's wish the knot untied. Let the fist unclench.

Happy Blogversary to me.

Sublime Juxtapositions

2008-03-15T20:41:00.004Z

Who came up with the sublime juxtaposition of hot fat, fluffy potato and salt? These little critters probably contribute to the obesity of the western world, but oh, how many people can refuse some, just a few? I always nick a few off the children's plate if I make them with fish fingers and brocolli. They are only nice hot and crunchy out the pan, steaming in the middle, with the lovely shock of salt and olive oil. mmm.

A Contraluz, Barcelona in February

2008-03-03T15:23:00.014Z

According to the novel I'm reading by Carlos Ruiz Zafon, The Shadow of the Wind, the Sant Gervasio district to the northwest is the posh area of town. A Contraluz is tucked away in a little side street behind some artistically lit foliage. It has an outside terrace, probably for those desperate smokers who have to now abide by the european smoking ban. We have to thank Charlie for this recommendation, he was a local for 3 years. A Contraluz is a beautiful space with superb lighting and friendly service. It also has an English menu!

Mr. G agreed to have a romantic date with me that evening and we set out by foot for a brisk walk to find it. We had some nice fresh air and it wasn't very cold, palm trees lined the streets. here is a picture of Mr. G at the table:
OK that is a tired face, but it is about as relaxed as he gets. I wanted to bring home the picture behind him. We looked at the menu for a long time and fiddled with our cutlery.

And ate our bread, with pomegranate sorbet as a small starter from the chef.

Greens are so hard to find!! Parmesan and rocket Yum.
Mr. G left me to order some farfalle pasta thing for him but I had a short circuit and ordered this instead:

Some rather beautifully cooked lamb with jamon...he was a bit surprised when it arrived. Me: "blur". Oops, luckily he's a rather forgiving husband. I had the pretty unforgettable iberian roast pig - wow - I'll be still thinking of this for a long time:

Chinese people and roast pig, that's a symbiosis. Like the chinese character for "peace" - showing the symbol for roof with a pig under it. I'm sure I was silent while experiencing this pigness. The Iberians can sure grow their pig.

Despite stuffing our faces, there is always room for some adventurous pudding:

G had strawberry pannacotta with szechuan pepper (top) and I had the carmelised pineapple and cardamom soup with pineapple sorbet.

...and finished beautifully with peppermint tea. Contentment.

Chiho Aoshima Exhibit - Fundacion Miro, Barcelona

2008-02-22T00:55:00.002Z

This artist is seriously cool.
The picture is a detail from a larger piece of work. All the details were amazing.

Who's been dancing in little frost feet?

2008-02-20T00:15:00.002Z

Signs of Spring

2008-02-11T23:32:00.000Z

Happy Lunar New Year or Rats! I seem to have missed January

2008-02-07T12:25:00.000Z

Gosh I seem to have disappeared off the inner worlds of blogdom for some time - what happened? Well, xmas hols with the kiddies is always distracting, time with family...pretty sacred I guess, walls in the house being dismantled by builders, spraining my ankle for a few weeks - still hurts, and err...probably the real distraction, Facebook, and a bit of block in my writing funnybone which I hope to oil up again soon.

So how should I catch up? I better write up my Vagaries of Memory II -review about the Book of Chameleons and Inheritance of Loss, and a triple Gaiman I've been meaning to do. Then I should do Paris with Grace, and Barcelona travel log as I ate really well and I have some food pics which I took in a posh restaurant to the amusement of the very polite waiters, even mr G got a bit enthusiastic about the food blogging lark. The Bath Lit Fest will be on soon...must get some tickets. And the Bath Marathon, I'll be massaging our local school running team who will be raising money for TESFA, my favourite charity for educating pre-school children in Ethiopia (more on this soon).

Well that's a pretty long list, I'd better get to it tonight after I cook the family New Year Dinner of Noodles - the girls are very excited and insisted on having special CNY hairstyles of mum's special high ponytail and braid set-up; wound in a bun and wrapped in a felt flower tie: exotic! let's hope it doesn't unravel in PE :)

Teacher Cookie Baking Day

2007-12-16T22:37:00.000Z

I rarely bake. In fact my 10 year old did most of these. I had fun decorating with the kids today but it took all day to package these up to the various teachers and best friends in the school. Phew! If wishes were cookies, I would send you some! Happy Holidays!

What is my favourite food?

2007-12-04T14:50:00.000Z

I interrupt the current dreamy broadcast to announce the opening of a new sushi bar in town! I've been pondering what is my favourite food since Nigel asked me. How can you ask any foodie this question? It's a definite way of mentally torturing them, I know now. And for a while, I was gonna do a long piece on soup, because, yes, that is one of my favourite foods, anything soupy, I'll try it. Anything leftover, I'll cook it! But...

Grey and threatening skies and the tension of christmas lights notwithstanding, my feet took me straight in to Yen Sushi the minute I saw it was open. No question. No hesitation. One big beeline. You get the picture. I had heard some rumors before, but this was the first time I had set eyes on it. It's a simple place north of Milsom Street, up the cobbled alleyway by the pelican crossing. You can see the conveyor belt going round and round. The bar was full of people at 12.30pm and they squeeezed me in to the last seat in the corner.

I couldn't stop the secret smile of glee curving on my lips as I sat there, securely in my place: ginger, wasabi, tamari - ready! I think I got a few looks, as people are secretly suspicious of happy looking people - they think "what are they up to?" or "Looking too happy, must be faking." My patience all these years waiting for a decent sushi bar to come out to somersetshire* (*made-up word, pronounced in country accent, with a piece of hay sticking out of my mouth) has finally paid off! I was definitely having a zen moment. What do you do when you achieve a heart's desire? You TUCK in!

There was a varied mixture of hot dishes, sushi, sashimi and large hand rolls. I had some smooth tofu fried in cornflour with spring onion and soy, a sesame inside out roll with avocado and crabstick, those pillow things, some salmon sashimi (err...no pics, was too busy eating), and salmon belly chunk tempura in miso broth. Ya, go on, where's she putting it. And then I thought I'd better take some pics. Here's my last morsel. Everything was really fresh.

I was probably looking so happy that Chef Pedro came over and had a chat with me. He has been in Bath 3 weeks and he loves it. He wants to stay here. I'll tell you his story when I find out. Meanwhile, he says, "You from town, means I'll be seeing you here again then?" Oh yes, Chef Pedro, I'm sure I'm gonna be your friend. Gastronomically, of course.

The Following text is copied

Proposition: What is your favorite food in your state or country? Requirements: Find some info about the food and show delicious pictures of it. Quantity: FIVE PEOPLE. Tag Mode: You leave their blog and post link and add to the list below.

Mybabybay loves Asam Laksa from Penang, Malaysia

JustMyThoughts loves Penang Char Koay Teow

My Lil Venture loves Laksa Sarawak

Monterssorimum loves Teluk Intan Chee Cheong Fun

Chinnee loves Melaka Wan Tan Mee

PeimunLeah loves Hakka Lei Cha

Hui Sia

Jonamum

Karen loves Pan Mee

Something about Lai loves Crispy duck skin from China

Simple American loves Cheese Enchiladas

Nicole Tan loves Char Tau Kueh

Velverse loves Otak-otak

Kenny Ng loves Jawa Mee

Fatty Poh loves Nasi Dagang Kelantan

wmw loves Kuih Tutu.

Nigel loves Char Kway Teow

Msiagirl loves sushi

I tag the following 5;

Lord Daft
Effie in Blindingham
Fusionview
bibliobibuli
Ryn Tales

The Vagaries of Memory– Part 1

2007-11-27T12:17:00.000Z

Another leaf of memory fallen onto the rich compost of imagination. Hearing writers speak about their process is usually what their readers want. After attending a few such events, it really struck me how (for the really engaging ones) all life experience was really fodder for the cannon of their minds. Whether they wrote essays or pure fiction, each memory was transformed into story. Just because it is present in a story does not make it any less true, no no. It magnifies the trueness, it resonates the human experience and connects us together.

Memory seems to have been the theme of this summer's musings, and now that the autumn has come - like a rake through the grass, I felt I needed to take the gleanings of the year, and gather them up. Who can say any memory is the true one, seen through multiple lenses of our experience? Each of the cases I sat in on for jury duty this year involved one man's memory against another's. Who do we believe? Who is the reliable witness?

Is it the man, fundamentally good, knowingly duped by his own community of immigrants into the crime of carrying drugs? What was his lense of experience: fear of revenge against his family if he didn't agree, the need to return home to see his blind mother, denial that his countrymen would involve him in such activity. His own brain shorted and lightning struck by the epilepsy he has suffered from, increased by the stress of imprisonment. He is broken, murmuring in Spanish, defeated by the facts, appalled by where he has found himself after years of struggle and sacrifice. What of the undercover cop, with his scouser accent and careful notes, his 20 years of experience: receiving a kilo of cocaine in a posh Mayfair townhouse from the casual swagger of the men with the package. Handing over a sackful of money to complete the sting with a wire down his shirt. Will he ever see it again? The good lawyers look down their Oxford noses at him. The wife bursts into tears and sobs quietly as the judge, stern but fair, commutes his sentence and softens it - but it is still another 3 years out of the full 6 she was entitled to give. He will miss his daughter's wedding as an innocent man - will this wedding even happen? She is marrying a very surprised policeman, newly informed of his father-in-law's case.

Is it the blank faced boy in the dock, nondescript in a white shirt and jeans? Can his accuser really recognise him two years later while walking down the street, after suffering a violent knife attack from this man's hand? Is he the "tall one with bulging eyes"? It doesn't help that the man in the witness stand preaches to his audience and crows about the rightness of his position, that he is the victim, that this man belongs to a brotherhood of bad men, running through these English streets. He harangues the patient judge, with the twinkly eyes, for allowing men of such ilk to go free! One man's memory against another's. The boy says he has been recognised bringing his shopping home on the same bus, that he lives only streets away from his accuser, that he has never owned a knife. Mistaken identity? Someone has to be lying. The witness may be irritating and pedantic but he is sincere, he will never forget the face leering with aggression above him, the blade slashing down, the blood, the hours of questioning by the police. The boy's demeanour changes as the verdict is read, he straightens up from his meekness and eyeballs the jury like he might recognise us walking down the street two years later.

Frost

2007-11-16T22:44:00.001Z

Aunt Leaf - by Mary Oliver

2007-11-16T10:34:00.000Z

Needing one, I invented her –
the great-great-aunt dark as hickory
called Shining-Leaf, or Drifting Cloud
or The-Beauty-of-the-Night.

Dear aunt, I'd call into the leaves,
and she'd rise up, like an old log in a pool,
and whisper in a language only the two of us knew
the word that meant follow,

and we'd travel
cheerful as birds
out of the dusty town and into the trees
where she would change us both into something quicker –
two foxes with black feet,
two snakes green as ribbons,
two shimmering fish –
and all day we'd travel.

At day's end she'd leave me back at my own door
with the rest of my family,
who were kind, but solid as wood
and rarely wandered. While she,
old twist of feathers and birch bark,
would walk in circles wide as rain and then
float back

scattering the rags of twilight
on fluttering moth wings;

or she'd slouch from the barn like a grey opossum;

or she'd hang in the milky moonlight
burning like a medallion,

this bone dream,
this friend I had to have,
this old woman made out of leaves.

Autumn Leaves

2007-11-14T12:57:00.000Z

There have been a few windy days on the cliff and the trees are more bare than ever. Plenty of crunchy leaves underfoot of every colour of gold. Squirrels rustling in the undergrowth, busy collecting the tricornered beech nuts sprung free from their prickly cases.

I had my encounter with urban wildlife today after walking up the steep steps from school - my neighbour's cat in a small tree by the path looking like he couldn't go up or down. "Meow!" he said to me a trifle piteously. And seeing that he is always being told not to pee in my garden, it was a direct appeal to my previously non-existent sympathies. "Come on," I said, offering my arm as he inched along an ever-bendy girth-decreasing twig. Perhaps he could feel me smiling at his predicament in my mind. He tried not to struggle too hard at the indignity and I escaped with a very small scratch to my chin (for although it was a small tree, alas for me, it was a little over my head). Stalking off quite ungratefully afterwards. Still, needs must, on one's rounds in the universe.

Speaking of more urban wildlife, I was also lucky enough to see the peregrine falcons circling on the thermals above St.John's steeple where they have a nesting box. In the summer you can hear the harsh and raucous cries of the chicks, waiting for food. Plenty of fat pigeon here for them!

I love autumn - time of the earth, when the leaves are settling back into the loam. mmm. Here's one of my favourite poems from Gerard Manley Hopkins:

Spring and Fall

to a young child


MÁRGARÉT, áre you gríeving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leáves, líke the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Áh! ás the heart grows older	5
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you wíll weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:	10
Sórrow’s spríngs áre the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What heart heard of, ghost guessed:
It ís the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.	15

Aww what a lovely boy

2007-10-20T23:52:00.000+01:00

Charlie Cox in Stardust

OK OK, I know I am getting old when I go to a movie and I think the hero is a lovely BOY. A bit like young mr G when he had floppy hair, aww. And a gang of teenaged boys on bikes gave me the eye today. I know I am getting old when I am appreciating youth and beauty with such a detached air! I did give them a little wave though, as I am a saucy miss! They probably would have been horrified to know my real age, but we won't speak of that.

Charlie Cox in Stardust

Mr G and I went to see Stardust- the movie, of course, being keen on Neil Gaiman - and I know the book is always better is a cliche, but I found my mind busily filling in the bits that were edited out. Sigh. What's left is so happy ever after. Don't get me wrong, the book is a fairy tale and has its share of ever after, but there was enough otherworldliness about it so it wasn't saccharine sweet. Maybe I should do a proper reader impression, eh?

It opened in the UK this Friday. It is fun and good to look at...we had relaxing time chomping on the toffee popcorn. I won't give it away, but I am fond of the swordplay. Cracking!

Robert de Niro in Stardust

Wot I et: for dinner - Autumn Chicken

2007-10-09T22:40:00.000+01:00

Autumn chicken with chorizo - a warming dish made with one whole spicy spanish sausage, red with paprika. Onions, garlic and 5 bay leaves, generous grindings of black pepper. Cubed Maris Piper potatoes, butternut squash and carrots. Fried chorizo first, then added diced onions and chunks of garlic into the mix as the paprika flavoured oil seeped out. Then the bay leaves and black pepper. Two whole chicken legs on the bone, thigh and drum, skinside down. Layer the vegetables: squash, carrots, then a layer of potatoes with a sprinkling of salt and pepper. Add enough water to cover the chicken legs and cook in oven at about 190 celsius for one and a half hours or until chicken is tender. An all in one comfort dish! Err...not for dieters!

Lavender Blue

2007-10-09T12:28:00.000+01:00

Ask anyone on the street what single oil they would name in association with aromatherapy and they would state: "Lavender". There are many, many varieties of lavender. There is a lot of confusion about the names, and gardeners have their own names for some of them. Therapists only use 3 to 4 varieties in treatment, so I'll concentrate on these.

In my own practice, I only use True lavender (Lavandula angustifolia), as well as the lesser known Lavendin (Lavandula x intermedia) and Spike Lavender (Lavandula spica/latifolia). These three are related to each other - Lavendin is a hybrid of the other two. True lavender likes to grow high up in the mountains, and the other two will grow happily on the lower slopes. French Lavender, the ones with the 'ears' (Lavandula stoechas) also produces an essential oil, but I find it is very strong and there are other things I can use instead.

True lavender is soft and sweet in its fragrance. It's very gentleness soothes us and sends us to sleep. My children do sleep deeper when I burn lavender in their room - I only use it if they are very restless and excited, have a snuffly nose (with Ravensara or Myrtle) or a drop on the pillow for the older one if she has a headache. I put it on neat on the back of my skull if I have a mild headache, but if it is a strong tension or flu headache you might need to massage it vigorously in the area top of the foot between the big toe and second toe. It is good for chronic grumpiness, maybe I need an automatic spray of it in the morning! Hmm. I'll make up a lavender flower water spritzer to wake me and my skin, and maybe I will have a calmer kind of morning! And it will help with spots or the time of the month. I also use it to clean scrapes and grazes and it helps calm the person who has fallen down.

If I had to choose one First Aid oil for my kit, it would be this lavender. It has a broad spectrum of uses and is gentle on the skin. I keep a special bottle in the kitchen for burns I get from cooking - hot oven, spitting oil. It stops blisters and scars from forming. It is brilliant for healing wounds and clearing inflammation: cooling skin that is red and hot. Like sunburn! Or a sprained ankle, or a hot arthritic knee (with Lemon Eucalyptus). If you are caught out without the Tiger Balm, lavender will help with insect bites. I always put lavender in an eczema blend to sooth the skin - and use lavender with ravensara and geranium to cool itchy chickenpox and prevent from scarring.

The other two do a lot of the same things - lavender isn't only for sedation - it is a balancing oil - which means that if you are hyper: it calms you, and if you are listless or fatigued: it will energise you. Lavendin is that little bit more energising, so I would select it if I was tired but needed to function clearly. I would select it in a blend for aching muscles. If my client had to go to work with a cold I would choose Lavendin, so they would not get too sleepy!

For someone with a seriously bad cold I would move a notch up to Spike Lavender - it has a stronger action on the Lungs and better for infection in that area. I choose it for someone who gets so tense that they get depressed and make themselves ill. It is very heart calming but vigorous. And I use it a lot in muscular blends. It does smell a lot like minyak angin! That is perhaps from its camphor content, which has that familiar decongesting smell.

A lot of the time I have a bigger bottle of L.angustifolia than anything else in my collection. Sometimes I take it for granted, it is easy to use and blends with so many things, often harmonising the mixture and making it more pleasant. For its gentle power and breadth, none can match it. We would be very much the poorer if we could not have lavender in our toolkit.

Can she bake an apple pie, Billy Boy, Billy Boy?

2007-10-08T00:09:00.000+01:00

Perfect autumn food. Fresh off the tree, the apples are ready to eat. Cinnamon and nutmeg warm the body and soul.

The golden beech leaves are falling on our hill. The squirrels are busy collecting the funny angled beechnuts popping out from their prickly cases.

It is time to make apple pie. A toffee-like apple pie with dark molasses sugar and spice. Tarte tatin without the flipping, and it always reminds me of my friend Esther, who used to bake me covered pies like this in Virginia.

What do you do if you are girl like me and can't make pastry and can only make this recipe up new everytime? Well: 1. buy sweet pastry case. 2. get lots of dark molasses sugar and crumble all over base. 3. peel and cut up apples in chunky slices. 4. toss in more sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg sprinkled generously. 5. arrange artistically and dot butter strategically around the slices. 6. bake till brown sugar is oozing and apples shrink slightly. (And Mr. G, following his nose shouts to you, lounging on the sofa hypnotised by Elektra's flashing blades: "Oy! Does this need to come out?")

psst. As you can see, we each had a slice already, warm from the oven before bedtime!

Star Struck

2007-10-04T20:16:00.000+01:00

I look embarassingly pleased with myself to have Neil Gaiman actually signing my book! He said he had only been to KLIA in Malaysia and of course politely said he would have loved to go. Oh, he was extremely charming!

He read excerpts from two new stories he is writing - a book about a child who is brought up in a graveyard...he says it is really 8 linked short stories. The story opens with a killer disposing of this boy baby's family, the baby crawls into the graveyard and is rescued and brought up by the ghosts. Someone in the audience asked how could this be a children's book (it had a rather chilling opening paragraph) . I won't be able to post the answer blow by blow but the gist was that children can take such things in their stride. He said that he had loved The Jungle Book as a child and it was full of Death, blood, hunting and killing, and that The Graveyard Book was a nod to it. When he wrote his children's book Coraline, his editor had nightmares about the story, while his two daughters aged 6 or 7 at the time loved it and wanted to know what happened next. Neil Gaiman is a great story teller - he can see the story going on anywhere. He got the idea for his book when he used to live in a house in Surrey with no garden and took his young son on a tricycle to the graveyard near by to cycle along its paths. I look forward to reading this when it comes out.

He also read us a chapter from Odd and the Frost Giants - his World Book Day 2008 contribution, which he's supposed to hand in to the publisher next week. Odd is the son of a woodcutter/woodcarver who is drowned at sea, he has a limp from injuring himself with his father's axe shortly after his father's death as he tries to take over the job, his mother remarries and the story begins as one winter, Odd takes himself off to his father's old woodcutting cabin in the forest and meets (I think...) a grumpy bear and two other creatures who turn out to be argumentative Gods trying to regain Asgard from an invasion of Frost Giants.

All in all a cracking evening - they even sent him on stage in a cloud of dry ice, LOL. Well, you know I'd do it all again. Check out his website for his blog and lots of cool stuff http://www.neilgaiman.com/

Very small round up

2007-09-24T16:17:00.000+01:00

Well this isn't my post on my favourite food, or on Lavender, or on the vagaries of memory - but I will promise all those because I will have written down my promise and must therefore do it - remember the Frog Prince? I threaten my children - "A promise is a promise." (or else a frog will come and sit on your pillow and implore you to kiss it until you do). Hmm. I am just excited because I am going to see Neil Gaiman at the kids litfest in Bath this Saturday. Yay! I just know he will just be so delicious. Don't worry though, hubby Mr G is coming along err... to escort me. I shan't do anything rash. I'll bring along American Gods and Stardust for him to sign. And the very next day Lyrical Lemongrass and Bald Eagle are coming to stay for a few days! I can't wait to see them, I expect we are all going to have a bubble in the spa, in the rooftop pool. We'll watch the steam rise in the chilly air with the Abbey looming gracefully in the background. Ahh Autumn, my favourite season.

kiddie chatter

2007-08-29T19:45:00.000+01:00

"Maaaaa ammmmm!"
Dad says," What do you need? Mum is blogging again."
"I want to come out of the bath."
D: "OK then, did you wash your face?"
"No, mum says I was to wash my bottom."

To be or not to be on a jury?

2007-08-27T19:21:00.000+01:00

In the balance of things I am glad to have served my jury duty. It was service and it was duty, some of it was tedious in extreme, most of it was about making difficult and responsible decisions. I was grateful to serve with other people who took the job seriously, and were careful to be fair and analytical about the facts. I was glad to have witnessed the process of law and I have new respect for the role of the crown court judge, and insight into the role of the bewigged barristers. I sincerely hope I don't find my way back there too soon. Although the staff were extremely kind and courteous to all of us...they all did say, with a twinkle in their eyes, "We hope we don't see you back too soon!"

Who says fish aren't cuddly?

2007-08-09T03:00:00.000+01:00

These two always cosy up to one another at the bottom of the tank!

Summer is too busy. Must spend time indulging kids' whims before they turn into teenagers and it is too late. I have jury duty on Monday, so I expect i won't be able to say a word about it. I might have two weeks worth of lunches up to £5 in value at the Crown Court Cafeteria...what on earth is that going to be like! Maybe I'll finally get to do some food blogging. They may search my camera before leaving the premises though.

Home away from Home

2007-07-26T21:49:00.000+01:00

Bright and early, I boarded the bus and headed out to meet Kak Teh at Malaysia Hall. There was no water to be seen anywhere along my route and I was waiting in front of the Bayswater tube stop - where the familiar figure of Kak Teh came up the street to meet me, and gave me a big hug. We started talking and did not stop until lunch time!

I knew it would be warm and wonderful to meet her, but it was underlined to me that she embodies all that is true and warm of the Malaysian personality - and to many of the community here, she is the heart and home away from home. Meeting her brought me in touch with a whole part of Malaysia inside of me I had not visited for a long time, and it was a gentle homecoming.

I think the cafe at Malaysia Hall is worth a visit. I will confess I was so intent on the conversation, I barely tasted my food! There is no picture of the nasi lemak as I had demolished it before I thought of taking a picture - aiyah, not a food bloggerlah! In the picture you can see the curry puff and a bit of the roti canai, a pot of my Frankincense potion, YM's book (for Kak Teh) and some Terengganu rendang and Asam kepala ikan that Kak Teh kindly brought for me.

Of course I would have carried on till dinner if I could, but I had an appointment with the Tower of London. Ahh, I drifted away back into the bowels of the city, the happy hum of friendly words in my head.

Wot I et: for lunch or comfort food in pouring rain

2007-07-26T13:50:00.000+01:00

oo-er, is that a sausage or are you just pleased to see me?

Dodging the flood

2007-07-26T10:41:00.000+01:00

Woke up today with more rain slanting across the windowpanes. The children are home at the start of their summer holidays - with its wet weather promise of indoor pursuits! We should be like true brits and don our wet weather gear and wellies and go tramping round the mud, at least to stop the cabin fever from mounting.

However, being a bad blogger mum - (Is that an oxymoron for the holidays? Blogging means "ignoring your children".) I have agreed that if they allow me some time to blog - I will allow them some time on their Nintendo DS. Which I guess will balance out our electronic burnout, I won't spend hours on this because I shall be aware that my little darlings are simultaneously frying their brains.

I was very lucky on Friday going up to London - I left on the 9.13am train and the drizzle was coming down steadily. By the time I arrived at Victoria Station, and got on the first train to my destination there was an enormous clap of thunder and the word "cloudburst" springs to mind. The train was cancelled. The roof of the station gave up the ghost and immediately sprang innumerable leaks as large as rubbertree trunks. It was amusing to see the waterfalls pouring onto the cash and ticket machines, and all the people taking pictures. I had to save the battery and find a train. Bagel, chocolate and flower vendors looked on in amazement at the encroaching flood. Large rivers of water began to snake across the white, slippery stone floors as I dodged huge drips and deluge from platform to platform trying to catch a train out. On my third try I was successful, and chugged away from the beleagured station into clearer skies.

Photo by Warwick Bambrook

My cousin YM from Fusionview picked me up and we had a huge gossip about blogworld, probably boring anyone else within earshot. Angie made us yummy smoked mackerel pasta with rocket, watercress and baby spinach (an added touch she said, owing to my post on tortellini - the blogworld is all about us!). The sun was hot and we decided to walk off lunch at the park, passing gardens bursting with roses and lavender. Two-thirds of our group being Malaysian, we stopped off for coffee and cake.

So while the nation looked like this:

photo by Peter Stewart

I was wandering around in weather like this:

Mr G phoned and said all the trains between London and home had been cancelled. Nobody had made it east since mid-morning and anyone headed west were stopped at Oxford and then turned back, but finally made it home by midnite after 7 hours. We were all shocked at the flood news, and our thoughts go out to those who are still struggling in the continuing rain. Thanks to YM for a lovely visit and more after the lunch break.

Off to the Tower with you!

2007-07-19T23:23:00.001+01:00

Ooh crown jewels and ravens and the echo of the executioner's axe. Or I could just be fighting my way through hordes of tourists. Quite excited really, never seen a Beefeater close up before! I say!
This photo is from the Royal Palaces website.

I'm off to London to see the queen, err... I mean YM and Kak Teh. We're gonna have a grreat time!

Have a really really good weekend folks.

Wedding 15!

2007-07-18T23:51:00.000+01:00

Happy 15th Wedding anniversary to Mr G and me! Oops we forgot till now - 5 minutes to midnight of tomorrow. What happens to old married couples?? Life, I guess. Still we ate dinner together, at least! Mr G's greek lamb casserole with tomatoes, cumin and fresh coriander. Blinis with sour cream and roe, sprinkled with chives from my garden. Hummus and pita and cracked chilli olives, a nice salad. Very companionable.

Tortellini Malaysian Style - wot I et for lunch

2007-07-11T13:46:00.000+01:00

Mr G has taken to buying enormous packs of tortellini, which the children prefer in a soup - tortellini en brodo, I believe it is called. But there is only so much tortellini you can have in a week! And who is left to correct the food balance in the house? So for my lunch, I really really fancied pan mee, not that this is a craving from my childhood - we never seemed to have it in our house or when we went out! I figured the tortellini would do, as the fresh pasta is egg noodle dough, so I boiled it up with Marigold brand vegan low salt soup powder (!! don't ask!! Delia uses the regular kind, same brand.) and added two handfuls of Waitrose rocket, watercress and baby spinach salad from a bag, some mini corn and a big spoonful of chiu chow chilli oil. Happy!

And what else makes me happy? A bowl of lovely ripe summer cherries!

Sunny Intervals - Jacob's Ladder, Bath

2007-07-09T22:25:00.000+01:00

This is only the middle bit of the climb up the hill. More steps before and more steps after. I don't always walk it, I confess. But I try to do it more than once a week, hopefully at least three or four times! I caught it in a quiet, summer moment between rain and schoolboys sliding down the bannisters. Apparently they have been doing that for decades from the boy's school at the top - sturdy steel worn smooth by countless...er...slides. There is always birdsong, you'll be able to see the year's progression from these steps: first Spring, now Summer. When the leaves begin to fall, I will chart them to the bareness of winter.

The Feeling Wet

2007-07-02T23:02:00.001+01:00

You can see the rain on the back of these people's necks! Woo Hoo, it was fun though jumping up and down in the rain, the warm summery downpour, bass reverberating through your sternum.

(Bit busy with the daily slog at the moment, I'm behind in blogging!)

Take it easy

2007-06-26T20:16:00.000+01:00

Mr G came home with new mugs for both of us. Mugs have favoured status in the english household as the ceremonial vessels for the traditional cuppa.

Cuppa means comfort, cuppa means love ya, cuppa means sorry, cuppa means friendship. I'm sure all those things and more. And Mr G being the proper englishman he is, wields the cuppa in all its full meaningful glory.

Mr G chose for me a serene and feminine mug called Momiji Peaches. When you finish drinking your nice cuppa tea, there's a little message revealed through the milk and sugar (just one, please).

It says, "take it easy! life is peaches."

How sweet is that? Maybe I can actually be a sweet and feminine wifey...hmm...no, actually it won't work. Too bad. Don't get me wrong, Mr G did not choose wrongly because he does know my exact taste for beautiful Japanese design, and this is just right. Little did he know, that in the underbed drawer full of presents for little girls, there are already two momiji dolls which I couldn't resist buying for my two. You can see the kind of thing I mean at this shop. What kind of momiji would you like? Or which momiji would you get me? *wink*

Back To School - to Cheddar Gorge

2007-06-20T13:14:00.000+01:00

In the rolling Somerset Hills lies Cheddar Gorge, home of cheese. Vertical limestone cliffs rose up around us and then we were there, at the rather cheesy village of cheddar, full of gift shops and twee tea houses. Apparently it is true that cheddar cheese was first made here, and during the tour of Gough's cave, we saw some wheels of cheddar cheese maturing, and a cheesy aroma (mixed with bat) floated through the air...dubious mmm? We, meaning 3 teachers, 3 parents and 60 kids, were on an educational school trip for the school day. Whilst I, would have been happy at a cheese tasting - it was not to be. My first responsibility was to ward the children's safety through the bowels of the Gorge...ah but I learned a decent amount!

The cave we visited was discovered in 1890 by Mr Richard Gough who retired to Cheddar in 1881 - he was a sea captain, and thus an adventurous soul. A beardy Victorian gentleman, he had 7 children. Together with his 5 sons, he discovered and cleared the mud and boulders away, year after patient year, to reveal the caverns before us.

The cave walls were chill and smooth to the touch, and everywhere was dripping water. Formed by the ice-melt of million year old glaciers it was the old riverbed, and an underground river still ran beneath us. There were some beautiful formations in the cave - my phone camera cannot do justice to them - though not bad for phone-cam!

A calcite "waterfall" - an airpocket in the earth caused the water to form in pools, and as the water evaporated and the level went down, formed each level of the "falls".
My favourite formation - King Soloman's Temple (yes, Mr Gough was a grand old Victorian wasn't he!) - I was really impressed! All this knowledge made up for the ear-splitting volume of the trip, despite behaving well. Needed a good lie-down in silence after, and probably some lavender water in the victorian theme!

Work in Progress

2007-06-17T21:40:00.000+01:00

You know how you have work that isn't quite right, and you sit on it, take it out and revise it, and it still isn't quite right? Well I have this one I am not willing to give up on, but am stuck on where to go next. Can anyone give me feedback on which bits they 'get' and which bits are ?huh? ect, you know, just reader's impressions, doesn't have to be full analysis! Maybe it will light a fire under this work and get me to finalise it. I'll post it here, I promise not to get upset by anything anyone says...and I thought since I have explained chamomiles below, it may be less obscure than I think...

Chamomile Mother
for L and B

You tasted them equally–
Mother’s milk, chamomile tea,
One sweet, one bitter healer,
Soothing the night’s darkness–
Strict in the day’s relentless light.

Flower water and fragrance,
Bathed you and laved you,
Matricaria Chamomilla
Rubbed it on the hard knocks of
budding independence,
Remedy for your tears.

Bitterness to cool your blood,
Purify that daisy chain of dreams,
Your mother will tell you all the truth if you ask.
It won’t be pink through her chamomile glasses.

Love doesn’t come into it.
Love’s like the planet Mars to this plain tale.
An evening star over it all,
A daily wonder to be explored.
Curious companion for life.

Monster Slug eats Bellflowers

2007-06-15T23:13:00.000+01:00

Actually, this was a small slug.

Raindrops on ladies mantle...

The back garden will be evolving slowly and organically. :)

Back garden before...

2007-06-14T22:12:00.000+01:00

There's a large pictsy along the garden path. Will post after work pictures if the slugs don't eat everything aargh!

Started to dig (How many HSS does it take to build a Garden?)

2007-06-14T22:07:00.000+01:00

*update: It is done now. Top view of garden above and from my front door view of the new grass and herb bed! Two weeks before we can actually walk on the grass!

Front garden being cleared...

Summer is here, make room!

2007-06-13T13:49:00.000+01:00

Nigella sativa and Nigella (photo by Francesca York) http://www.nigella.com - this photo is for Kenny. Learn more about the herb here.

These are not quite the right colours but I like them, some strange technical fairyland has touched the edge of my photo! Surreal.

My garden is being dug up and replanted to make an aromatic herb garden. I am excited. Will update you on progress.

I'd like some blue roses, wouldn't you?

The Soothing Chamomiles

2007-06-11T15:00:00.000+01:00

There are two kinds of chamomile commonly used in aromatic treatment. German chamomile, matricaria recutita pictured above - and Roman Chamomile, anthemis nobilis. The flowers look almost identical, but you can tell the oils apart as they are different. As you can see, they belong to the Daisy family Asteraceae, whose bright-faced flowers like bellis perennis dot English lawns and are ruthlessly eradicated by lawn purists; or dandelions, which are even tougher to get rid of.

Both Chamomiles are cooling and soothing. They calm and induce sleep. They help with pain in the nerves and muscles. They are supportive to the liver, encouraging its detoxification function and regulating the Qi. Both relax the diaphragm and the abdomen, helping with shallow, anxious breaths and nervous cramps. Both ease the frustration held in the solar plexus when we have fixed expectations which are difficult for the unpredictable world to fulfill.

German Chamomile is a thick blue colour, pungent and viscous. It is rich in Azulene, a monoterpene chemical which only turns blue in the distillation process and bisabolol, an anti-inflammatory agent. Its smell is sweet and earthy with a bitter tone. I reach for German Chamomile in creams and gels to heal the skin: to cool red eruptive rashes, or inflamed edges of wounds and grazes (not on the open wound itself, it would sting!). It has both sedated my toothache - and my anxiety in the dentist chair from having two wisdom teeth out this year - and aided in swift healing after. German Chamomile helped to cool the inflammation of the lining of my lung after my bad bout with the viral flu. It eased the pain of the torn muscles in my ribs from the coughing!

Roman Chamomile is lighter, more appley, still with a bittersweet bite. I use this with children, to sooth their nights, calm their tummies, wash their stings, stop the itching for chicken pox, in their ears for ear infections. As for the rest of us, massage into tense muscles, apply to the abdomen for pms and period pains, stress and insomnia. Lovely in the bath after prolonged exposure to relatives during the holiday season.

The chamomiles blend well with lavender and geranium, also jasmine and rose. For a first aid blend, mix with helichrysum (for bruises) and ravensara (anti-infectious).

These are two oils I always carry with me in my tool box.

First strawberries of summer

2007-06-10T12:24:00.000+01:00

I always try to catch that first elusive taste of an English strawberry. It's so subtle, vanishing as it melts in your mouth. These tiny little berries pack a small explosion of it - and you have another and another...until the whole punnet is gone. Even better go out to the all-you-can-pick place on the old Roman Road and get them fresh off the plant in the benign English sun or drenched from the quiet rain.

Kenny Reads, Leaves

2007-06-09T19:29:00.000+01:00

Sufian Abas took a very serious portrait of Kenny. He looks like he has a flame of enlightenment over his head like a bodhisattva. Why did I post this pic? It is good to have different viewpoints of everyone, which is why Sufian's photos are so extremely good. Kenny was describing the "I" in his book in the morning, just waking up:

"I see my face as black and white and see no shades of grey." - in Broken Mornings

So since I missed the last Readings, Kenny promised me he would get out Broken Mornings and give me my own private reading when I visited. Lucky me, I thought, but expected him to be kidding. But no, the man remembered his promise. He delivered unto me my own personal read of "Leaves" over the cake I might have mentioned once or twice. Kenny is very good at reading, no wonder ladies get rapt. The paparazzi were too busy listening, we didn't get any photos. It wasn't that kind of evening anyway. He read "Smell" which Spiffy chose and "Settling In" which Lyrical Lemongrass requested. So we all got one. It was fair and square. Kenny said that he felt he had moved on from these stories but liked them again now he heard them aloud. So all was good.

We even got a drawing demonstration on a napkin - hey, he can draw too - look forward to seeing some illustrations when Dark City 2 comes out. We all reluctantly stood up to leave and we dropped Spiffy off at the train and Kenny at his new place, clutching a Just Heavenly cake, I wonder if he ate it or just fell asleep on the spot!

Lyrical Lemongrass and I went off to find the perfect sashimi...we did very well. She blogs about Umai-ya. Mmm, what a lovely crowning evening. Thank you for looking after me so well. I will take this day and store it in my jewel box.

Let Me Eat Cake II

2007-06-09T01:20:00.000+01:00

This orange ginger cake cordially eaten by Lyrical Lemongrass, Kenny, Spiffy and me.

Let me tell you why eating cake is like meeting bloggers in KL.

You see a cake and you want it. You debate on its creamy contours. You speculate on its inner integrity. You imagine its aromatic entree. You can see other's choices of cake and it says something about them. Cake is a luxury of experience. You don't have it normally after every meal. Cakes are intense concoctions of myriad ingredients alchemically transformed into a whole. They are manifestations of someone's vision. Maybe we all have tired, cynical parts of ourselves which whisper, "Cake cannot be as good as it looks." Pleads with us not to get tummyache or be someplace where someone will hurt you, or laugh, or stare.

So what is it like to fall out of the sky with perfect clarity? To hurtle past the towering cumulus canyons and set foot on the earth of your past?

Maybe you could see my hands shaking as I read to you.

Afterwards, the rush, the acceptance, the friendliness and generosity of spirit. Thank you for hearing me read. Thank you for saying a few things to me afterwards. It really meant a lot.

Tucked in my chair at Marmalade - light and open to the sun - Kenny and Spiffy before me and Lyrical Lemongrass at my side, where she had been all day; well, we ate cake. I finally and truly felt at home. Eating cake that evening was the perfect experience. A coming together. An alchemy. We picked up the threads of our blogs and we smoothly turned them into real and very truthful people. We laughed and told each other lots of truthful things and all it made was a good difference. Kenny was burning bright with adrenalin, tired from his move and working so much, he still made some time to come out. Spiffy had a sore throat and felt ill with flu and I said have honey, have honey and we all worried about her getting home to rest. Lyrical Lemongrass had ferried me everywhere, gone to blogger's breakfasts and lunches with openminded aplomb, for she is a formidable writer and reader too. Here I was among them, drunk on cake and companionship.

You know what? There was more.

...and have it too.

2007-06-07T00:15:00.000+01:00

I had to look it up on wiki: about the cake phrase! Too late tonight to keep going. Write more later on getting my promised personal reading I had after. *wink*

Let Me Eat Cake

2007-06-06T14:02:00.000+01:00

Beautifully textured carrot cake from Marmalade in Bangsar Village, photo courtesy of Lyrical Lemongrass

That is how I felt about attending Readings@Seksan's two Saturdays ago. Metaphorically, my life was rich with new experience like reading poetry in Malaysia, a country I had exiled myself from for so long. I was attending with my new blogger friends, another rich and rewarding experience: new kindred is a rare and valuable thing, and here it was in abundance where I never knew it could be found. I was also in touch with my friends from the Convent and my cousins whom I had felt so close to in my teenaged years, right before I left home forever. Perhaps I had come back properly this time, in my whole body, with my whole spirit.

Mirroring my inner life, we did indeed eat a lot of very excellent cake. As you saw in the previous post, my lunchtime was graced with a heavenly treat and so was my teatime. Since it was Lyrical Lemongrass who accompanied me, the standard of the food was high high high. But I digress, since food is always so distracting.

Seksan's is indeed an inspired venue, open to nature and nurturing to the arts. I truly wish to thank Sharon Bakar@bibliobibuli who organises the Readings for her generosity in asking me to read, unproven. She has a detailed account of the Readings at her site on the 26th of May. Sharon is such a prolific and informative blogger of all things literary, that you may have to scroll down a ways to see it. The June Readings will be last-ish Saturday in June, watch for them! She is an oasis in what used to be desert, and the landscape is slowly changing.

I read in august company. An editor of the NST reading evocatively from his book Brickfields: A Time, A Place, A Memory. A veteran poet who has trod the lonely way before us, venerable and published. Young, new, confident talent, already so accomplished, so many awards, poised on the lip of his future. The founder of readings herself, what more can I say! A silverfish short story award winner reading a story so plain, expressive and raw that I was in complete and total awe - about a sexless marriage.

A full spectrum of Malaysian culture in its unique diversity revealed itself both in readers and audience. We do take it for granted, you know - our multiculturality with attendant issues and conflicts. As an individual, this experience in its most positive extremity, seems to enable me to walk some everyman's land between all cultures of this world and is a gift to fitting in, which may not be all people's cup of tea, but I have lived long in hard lands with it.

Photos from Leon Wing, thanks. Left to right Balan Moses, Pey Colborne, Nic Wong, Noraishah Ismail, Bernice Chauly, Wong Phui Nam.

Fourth Blogger's Breakfast Club May 26th, KL

2007-06-03T19:47:00.001+01:00

Lee Su Kim Photo by Lyrical Lemongrass

My LitSaturday in KL began when Lyrical Lemongrass picked me up from the hotel forecourt and we set off to Bangsar for the Breakfast Club. We sneaked in just as Eric was introducing Lee Su Kim author of Malaysian Flavours (Pelanduk Publications, 1996), whose new book, A Nyonya in Texas: Insights of a Straits Chinese Woman in the Lone Star State (Marshall Cavendish, 2007) is now available at MPH. I also noticed a slim volume on Manglish. She spoke amusingly of her experiences in Texas, and how Americans view Malaysia (where??). The guy who always asks about making money from writing piped up at question time, amid much giggling from the audience, so I asked Su Kim if she'd met any cowboys while she was in Texas, to change the subject. Surprisingly, she said No! (and there's a whole chapter on this in her book) There were no cowboys to be met in Texas and she had to pay money to go to the Rodeo to catch sight of any. How disappointing! I just adore cowboys, you'd think there'd be a few wandering around in Texas. She was very funny and a confident speaker.

David Byck Photo by Lyrical Lemongrass

David Byck, author of It’s a Long Way to the Floor (Johnathan Styles, 2006) says it is not an autobiography, it's about the process of change. He looks very fit, so the man walks his talk! On his website he says his book is "a true story of how yoga changed the life of a hot dog-eating, sports-loving, weight-lifting, Mr. Corporate America from the inside out." I wish I could have seen a little bit of the man before (he does describe himself on his official website ) - but David seems like a very relaxed and happy kind of guy. You can see how his gentle, self-deprecating humour would carry the tone of his book.

He spoke with a lot of honesty and integrity about the writing process, describing how he's going about his second book and some very funny anecdotes about going to a writing workshop in the US and the process of editing after one has written the first draft. What I remember? 1. Work on your first sentence. 2. Finish your manuscript before even thinking about anything else. 3. The difference between most published and unpublished writers is simply that the published writer didn't let anyone discourage them. He was a very encouraging and motivating speaker and I think he'll be reading a chapter from his book-in-progress at the next Readings at Seksan's.

Kudos to Eric and MPH for getting such entertaining speakers, and for such a lively session. (Ooh and nice curry puffs!). I met Chet and Spiffy and k.kim which I recognised from Blogworld and somehow ended up going in a group with Eric, Xeus, Spiffy and Lyrical Lemongrass to Red Ginger and then onwards for a lovely box of cakes at Just Heavenly. Mmmm mmmm!

This picture of what I had: Death by Chocolate is from their website. I definitely survived to go back some day.

What I Miss Most

2007-06-03T19:03:00.001+01:00

Rain Trees at the Taiping Lake Gardens

I read this poem at Readings, organised by Sharon Bakar at Seksan's on the 26th of May. It was my first time reading poetry in Malaysia.

I.

What I miss most
Are the rain trees,
The limestone hills in the North;
The sight of a big brown Brahmin bull,
With a bright white egret on its hump,
Under the attap thatched roof,
Of the rickety wood bus stop.

Tin mine white sand,
With weeds struggling to live,
In the barren silverness.

Rice paddy patchworks unfold,
Railroad tracks follow the coast, where
Tiny silhouette huts stand,
Husks of boats, fishing nets,
Abandoned to the wind.
The moist warmth still echoes on my skin.

II.

When I am here,
I am as indivisible as the water,
Crashing as the waves,
Onto Ferringhi Beach.
I forget where two worlds,
Will pull me apart.

I can lie under the casuarinas,
And kiss you,
Like I will never, never leave,
I will stay, stay and whisper
(Like these waves),
Insistently into your nights,
Never letting you sleep.

We watch the fishing-boat lights,
Move far out at sea,
Singing their false songs,
To squid swimming towards the moon.

Published In Earnest Spring 198_ Harrisonburg, Virginia

Penang Views

2007-05-31T10:01:00.000+01:00

Getting on a plane gives me that shiver of anticipation and adventure. Where to next? What new experiences, new food, new friends? I was not let down in my excitement. There's lots to catch up with. But first a few photos of Penang by mr G and me.
View from my window at Tanjung Bungah Paradise Sandy Bay Hotel. I used to visit my granma here when it was all fishing villages.

We got to go on the ferry - childhood nostalgia!

mr G took the girls to the Butterfly Farm in Penang and he took some lovely pictures.

I like this picture of me rushing to get to the hawker stalls on Macalister Road. Charge! Can't leave Penang without some Char Kuey Teow. I have to say that the man who sells pork intestine porridge here was really rude and action. hmf! goodness me, he has a high opinion of his place in the universe!

More later, gotta do my after holiday laundry and housework. sigh.

Penang Post

2007-05-23T04:55:00.000+01:00

My mum has broadband but it is still slow and I won't have much time to post today. I've had lots of mango, pineapple and nasi lemak. And some otak otak. And big family dinner things. But today I think the kids will have to have pizza or they'll pop from all the chicken and broccolli sang mee I'm feeding them. Doubt I'll even get in some char kuey teow...but we will see. The whole point is to visit family, not get in my eating schedule!

I can't believe I get to have my name on the Readings Poster this Saturday - see Kenny Mah's site or Sharon's - my first reading in Malaysia - it is a real milestone, folks.

PuisyPoesy update-check it out!

2007-05-16T19:17:00.000+01:00

Moon joke
(click on above link)
Zoom in as much as possible to the max.

I have just guestblogged for Puisypoesy and Sharon has kindly put it up!

Check it out and leave a comment to let me know you've been there. Join in the discussion :)

Going Home

2007-05-16T11:36:00.000+01:00

Hope the broadband works in Penang. I am not an intrepid phone blogger, so no internet, no post. Some family time, some makan time, some blogger time, some resort time. It will be good - it is just all the packing and organising before that daunts me! I am starting the process today so at least it isn't the day before. Any requests from Penang? Will bring home some Kari Kapitan. I doubt my food photography will improve but will be meeting the lovely Lyrical Lemongrass so I may experience the expert Food Bloggers at work, and catch a Reading or two with Kenny Mah. Sunshine ahoy!

Put some sunshine in your life with Bergamot

2007-05-11T09:31:00.000+01:00

That hint of citrus in your Earl Grey, that's Bergamot. Essential oil is extracted from the rind of this fruit by cold pressing. Well, ideally it is, certainly if you are a therapist it should be, but perhaps the flavourings people are not going to be so picky.

The best Bergamot should come from Italy - Calabria, in particular, on the toe of the boot shaped country. Support these small family growers by choosing whole cold pressed essential oil from Italy because many perfumers and other big users of Bergamot have turned to synthetics or extracted the Bergaptene from it. What is bergaptene? It is the component which has been identified as causing photosensitisation of the skin. This means if you have bergamot on your skin and you sunbathe, it may cause your skin to burn much faster.

The controversial mistake that manufacturers made in the 70's was to actually add bergamot to sun "protection" cream. Oops. Opposite effect than intended, resulting in bad name for bergamot. So now you can actually buy it without this component in case you are worried your client may go out in the sun and sue you for sunburn. However, education is important and I believe that simply informing your client of these facts, and advising them not to go on a sunbed directly after treatment is the key. Or to bathe small children in it and then let them play in the sun. Perhaps I wouldn't use Bergamot in Malaysia for my skin or on beach holidays, but I'd certainly inhale the gorgeous sunshine scent of it because it would make me happy. And I would keep it whole, no fiddling with the bits, please.

Use it carefully and respectfully, and you will be rewarded with an amazingly relaxing oil - uplifting and regulating to the body. Of course, it comes into its own in cold, grey, snowbound times - or when your soul still feels that way, even if the sun is shining outside. It is an excellent digestive, and good for bloated conditions. I use it for PMS and I've used it to treat cystitis and insomnia. People with knots in their necks also benefit from a dose of bergamot to remind them to breathe in and find a summer meadow to lounge in, even if it will have to be in their mind. Bergamot is uniquely calming, more so than the other citruses, so it is ideal for knotty people. It is under the Wood Element and helps sooth irritable Liver clients.

Safety notes: Always dilute your essential oils. 6 drops in 10 ml of base oil like sunflower is a safe dose for adults. Bergamot is safe for pregnant mothers after the first trimester - during the first trimester, inhaling it is great for dealing with so many hormonal changes. I would use orange and mandarin for children instead, as they have tender skin which burns easily. Bergamot always seems to float in the bath and sting the skin, so dilute it properly in a dispersant or unscented bubble bath before putting it into the water. Some literature suggests full fat milk, but I think that is not enough. Swish it very thoroughly.

Deckchairs by Mr G

2007-05-07T22:13:00.000+01:00

Seaside towns. Along the pier at Weymouth. This is my favourite picture by Mr G.

Busy bee picture in the lazy garden

2007-05-07T21:55:00.000+01:00

This is the favourite of all the pics I took this weekend. The flower bracts are from the euphorbias at Lorton House. More pics to come.

Happy Friday, off to Lorton House

2007-05-04T14:20:00.000+01:00

There will be 5 families with small children - and no internet!!!! A football, BBQ and a billiards table. I probably want to lounge around and read my books, so far I have packed 5 but will that be enough?? Other people might want to go walking...and there will be plenty of food, of course. It's Bank Holiday Monday, here - so I don't think Mr G has ever spent so long away without a connection. I bet he is bringing his phone to connect! See you Tuesday.

Update: Here are some more pictures of Lorton House in Dorset once we got there. It sleeps 16 - it was a wonderful space and we would do it again. Here is a clearer picture of the house from the garden. The front garden is that wonderful large field in the bergamot post above. Pic number 2 is a picnic area in the garden and the two little photos are of the landing and the dining room.

The Painted Veil

2007-05-02T21:14:00.000+01:00

When I was a poor and impoverished student in upstate NY, my housemate Sonja would sometimes cut me in on her dogsitting jobs as she worked at a local vet and would often look after some of the dogs when their family was away. This is how I met Ron Nyswaner - he went away to visit his family in Georgia and i would spend my time looking after his dogs, lying in his hammock on his porch and listening to Nina Simone. He got me an Olympics t-shirt when he came back and was very kind to me. When Mr G came to visit me in a fiancee type of way, we used to help out in local plays that some of the jobbing actors, including Ron, from New York city who lived up our way would put on in the local community. One spooky Halloween, when the crunchy leaves were on the ground, Mr G and I were carving pumpkins for a production of Dracula when he nearly cut his finger off and I had to take him to emergency! Ick! We remember the time we spent with them so fondly - they were all so nice to us - and we were really pleased when Ron went on to write Philadelphia (starring Tom Hanks) and was nominated for so many screenplay awards. So we are pleased to see him back on the big screen adapting the Somerset Maugham novel and can't wait to see The Painted Veil (starring Ed Norton). Please let me know if you have seen it and what you thought. The title of the book comes from a poem by Shelley:

Lift not the painted veil which those who live

Call Life: though unreal shapes be pictured there,

And it but mimic all we would believe

With colours idly spread,--behind, lurk Fear

And Hope, twin Destinies; who ever weave

Their shadows, o'er the chasm, sightless and drear.

I knew one who had lifted it--he sought,

For his lost heart was tender, things to love,

But found them not, alas! nor was there aught

The world contains, the which he could approve.

Through the unheeding many he did move,

A splendour among shadows, a bright blot

Upon this gloomy scene, a Spirit that strove

For truth, and like the Preacher found it not.

The Firewife - Tinling Choong

2007-04-30T20:04:00.000+01:00

I definitely want to take thoughtful time over these impressions. I was excited to be able to get this from Amazon - since there are no author readings this side of the pond that I can tell. I know she is coming to a Lit Breakfast in KL in July and that Kenny is probably going to do her poster! Finally though, I wanted to celebrate another published Malaysian author.

I found that this novel separated into a few levels for me: there was this whole Nuwa creation myth level and Hindu Goddesses; there were each of the women photographed and a sort of political/ feminist statement for each one linked to an aspect of their sexuality/womanhood, including the opening story of Lakshmi which underlined the plight of brides in India who displeased their in-laws and were set on fire and killed. Unsurprisingly, the level I enjoyed the most, and which I identified most with as a reader was the story of Nin, the photographer, who is a Malaysian woman now living in the USA. Her chapters were interspersed with each of the photo subjects. They reveal her tragic family story, and chart her journey to find the locked away passion in herself. I found the language of her thoughts and narrative extremely entertaining, lyrical and well written. I like looking at her angst. I like wondering how she will resolve it. I like it that her thoughts are peppered with film and music references of this time, and that she has a thing for Russell Crowe's mouth!

I am trying to write without any spoilers in case you intend to read this. There are some wonderful nuggets of Malaysian tastes. The highlights of this novel for me, were the excruciating protrait of the unique Chinese familial ability to brand shame deep into your soul, with no recourse or redemption. You bear this searing blackness and it drives you to extraordinary lengths. Just fantastic examples of this, I cried buckets. Also, Nin's desire to Not Be the eldest - very poignantly written. More buckets. Favourite chapter? Chapter 6: the discussion on earlobes - this is so very Malaysian I really chuckled over this. My family is also obsessed with lucky earlobes, and I will confess looking surreptitiously at my future husband's earlobes when I met him.

As much as I carry on enjoying the writing, I do get cross with the plot. It is an ambitious and courageous plot. Very modern and disconnected, flying between times. Her writing on sexuality is frank and confident - she is the recipient of the Henry Miller Award after all, where readers of an e-zine vote on the hottest writing. Maybe I am supposed to get annoyed with Nin as her "Water" self - a neutral vessel, unfilled. I wonder why she can't naturally grow to balance her Fire and Water, and there needs to be so many devices involved. The characters to be photographed aren't very deeply rooted, they are transient despite their very real plights - her journey carries her relentlessly on to the next thing before we can reflect much, she makes no difference to them. There is a lot of symbolic mythology here, but I am uncomfortable that nothing of the creation myth and the Hindu myth connects on a heart level with these characters - or least my readerliness (this is not a word...) cannot detect it. The blurb on the jacket says,"Firewife is a poetic, exploration of contemporary Asian women unknowingly connected over time." Poetic, I'll certainly grant - and yes! an exploration - but I am left still unknowing about how to make some of the connections. Maybe I'll have to read it again, I may be simply too tired to think!

Wot I et this weekend

2007-04-29T21:39:00.000+01:00

I put my mouth where my blog is and cooked a wild garlic omelette - mmm...like ku chai or chinese chives, with a very light oniony taste. Not bad, if I were foraging in the forest, I would definitely choose this!

If only I knew how to identify safe mushrooms...

I also made rendang, but we ate it before I could take a picture. I obviously have not got the idea, plus since I used brahim rendang sauce, as I was busy, felt like it was not real cooking!

I only had one chance with this cheese on a cracker because I then ate it - it was blue enough to walk I think, so I ate it fast. Or I was impatient. I think I am too impatient to be a food blogger because I just want to eat the food, forget about shooting a nice pic of it!

(all this while pondering my reader impressions...aiyah, must have food for thoughtlah!)

Stephanie Lehmann and Karen Miller

2007-04-25T20:42:00.000+01:00

I picked this book up in a hurry but it has surprising depths, despite its cover! Ginger is studying at the NY School of Culinary Arts. She is uncomfortable with her body and with her image. She dresses down (and wears funky sneakers) - trying to hide herself away. This is a reaction to growing up with her mother, Coco, who used to work as an exotic dancer and still teaches hen parties for a living. Coco is Very comfortable with her own skin. This book is about seeing your parents with new eyes when you grow up and your reassesment of them. Ginger has to move past simple feminist prejudices and see Coco as a living embodiment of a strong woman who has always been there for her, despite apparently revelling in being a sex object - very nicely observed.

I chose this book carefully. I have read a lot of SFF and if one is not discriminating, it can all blur together into one big quest. I was not disappointed - this is a good, well written story with an active pace. The characters are well drawn and you care for each of them. There is a decent magical premise and a suitably complex political plot. There are no boring long drawn out bits. The relationships are fairly sympathetic, though everything is terribly secret. Still, as it is unusually, a duology - I shall be getting Book Two.

Tooth Fairy is about!

2007-04-24T22:03:00.000+01:00

Tooth number two:
Good for you!
The Fairy Queen’s
Favourite drink is dew,
Captured in the morning’s dawn,
In a goblet carved from –
Your milky tooth
That wiggled loose.

from Fairy SlumberSloth

Meg Cabot and Shannon Hale

2007-04-24T18:53:00.000+01:00

Meg Cabot is chick lit, all right? But she's funny and clever and she knows her target audience well. So I let my 9 year old read the Princess Diaries, and she's a very emotionally intelligent 9 year old. But these last two books (7 & 8) are a lot about "Should one Do It with your boyfriend?" Fair enough questions, but the 9 year old seems to be taking it in stride. Should I be worried?

Shannon Hale has always written about strong, intelligent heroines who think out of the box, who find and gather community, and are not afraid to provide leadership. The heroes in her writing are simply heroes because they recognise and support this. Brilliant! My sister sent me Princess Academy on my birthday for one of the kids, but I admit I read this for myself (and I've read her other books!)

Right, just play catch up on my last four books: The Art of Undressing by Susan Lehmann, Innocent Mage by Karen Miller, Firewife by Tinling Choong and Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman - and then I can just do them as I read 'em.

Reader Impressions

2007-04-23T20:25:00.000+01:00

I've been posting the covers of the books I've been reading, but not saying much about them. I was gonna not just post the "literary" stuff but all the stuff I read in between, and let me tell you, nowadays...I'm just happy to be reading! Book reviews? Don't think I can do it. So I'm going to call these Reader Impressions - please feel free to suggest some stuff to me based on what you see here. I'm just going to casually say how the book made me feel, hoo and if I am really feeling brain snappy, I may have a thought. But probably just one.

Sometimes, I read 4 or more books at a time. I read lots of kids books too, as I like to keep up with what my kids are absorbing into their impressionable heads. But sometimes, I simply read them for me, probably takes me back to a time when I was a happy reader and could simply be a sponge. Anyway, I'll not excuse anything which shows up here, that's the deal. When I was little I used to take out say, 10 books from the library (basket basikal pecahlah!) and then I would play a game where I would find things in common linking one book to another. They would be tiny little details like, in book one there would be a story about a hummingbird. In book two, the heroine would notice a hummingbird come to her porch to sip on hibiscus, in book three, the hero would have a monologue about the place of porches in his world. Get the gist? OK, I lived a lot in my head. So if I notice something I will play the game.

The last book I read is a book I've been meaning to read for a long time. What a pleasant surprise it was. How I enjoyed and savoured its language, laughed really hard at the characters, cried for the narrator, dreamed in the golden summer sense of place this writer conjured up. Wow, this wins Best Read of the Year so far award. It belongs to Mr. G. Even he was surprised how much I liked it. It's about a young survivor of WWI, marriage bashed and wounded, who arrives to restore a church mural in a northern country church in England. Yes, it is quintessentially English - dry, wry and self-aware. The kind of writing where you stop and roll the sentences round your tongue. Yum! Sometimes I don't think I get to reading certain books because the time is not right, that I haven't learned enough to truly appreciate what it means. Perfect timing for this one, sigh. Mr. G said, "Well, it is a book about healing." By jove, he was right.

Ramson or Wild Garlic

2007-04-23T16:22:00.000+01:00

Allium ursinum

click for recipes

Arrival of Leaves

2007-04-23T15:41:00.000+01:00

New cell, new surface
Full of green blood
Power is calling from root
Hold, hold, hold
Reach, be bold

Bolt from the sun
Burn and turn into green creases
Bark thicken, wind teases
Time is now, taller, layer
Distance from the decayer

Free the shackles of husk
Ramsons be your bride
To stem the tide
Turn over new leaf
I have arrived.

Sweet Ylang Ylang

2007-04-18T21:47:00.000+01:00

A graceful, exotic name from the Fillipines. A sensual, sweet and earthy fragrance. Ylang ylang embodies the energy of the Sacral chakra, associated with pleasure, love, passion and sexuality. Svadisthana is another name for the Chakra - the dwelling place of the Self - where the spark of our creativity is first lit.

Relaxing and uplifting, ylang ylang connects and balances heart to mind. In TCM, it cools the anxiety which can flare along the Heart Meridian, calms Heart-Fire which can be seen as a red tip to the tongue and tonifies the Heart-Yin. Soothing restlessness and insomnia, it regulates the heartbeat. Heart meridian is of the Fire element. It runs from the inside of the wrist to the armpit. Putting a 6 drops of ylang ylang in 10ml oil is very calming stroked along this pathway. Halve the dosage for children, they like it when restless and it helps them to sleep.

I use ylang ylang to remember joy. It was one of the first two oils I ever bought - the other one was Bergamot. In my practice, I save using ylang ylang for someone so overwhelmed by their mind they have forgotten their body, which is their vehicle in this world and needs to be looked after. Or I use it simply for someone who needs some more joy in their life. Ylang ylang is also good for the stressed out student, for both those reasons! Use it with moderation because the heady scent can quickly become headache-y if used too often. It blends well with the citrus oils - grapefruit, sweet orange, bergamot, lemongrass. It also goes well with the earthy oils - sandalwood, vetiver, patchouli, spikenard. It is kind, cooling and soothing to the skin, good for complexions which get red or flush easily.

When using essential oils, it is good to take a break from them. Even I try to have a day off - or a weekend off , if I am using them consistently. If I am using them for treatment and I have a dose 3 x a day - I usually do weekdays and break on the weekends before resuming the dose. If I need to continue the treatment, I would mix a totally different blend for the next phase. If you have them for the occasional bath, this is not the case. We are surrounded by scent everywhere we go - much of it synthetic and chemical, a good bit of it pollution. Our noses and systems become very overloaded, and this sensitises us and makes us allergic to many things. Using too much of anything can make us sensitive to it - so to prevent myself from ever becoming sensitised to essential oils - I use them carefully and with respect, when I need them. I enjoy them fully and follow the adage, "Less is more."

Frankincense, Acupuncture and the Individual Prescription

2007-04-14T11:26:00.000+01:00

Frankincense resin and the tree

My favourite essential oil is distilled from Frankincense resin. You can imagine its sweet, calming, heady smell. Frankincense has been used for many religious rituals, it stills the mind for meditation. One of my clients, a lapsed catholic, said that once he had got over the fact that it reminded him of priests, he then liked it very much! I was using a combination of Frankincense and Cardamom for his Spleen at the time. Frankincense is both an Earth oil and a Metal one. It's sweetness nourishes the earth but there is a quality to it which makes us breathe deeply and strengthen the Lungs, which is a metal element quality. Being an earth oil, it helps the mind be calm - which makes it an ideal oil for exams and anxiety. I get a lot of comfort from Frankincense - it makes me stop when I am in a stressed and hectic place, it helps me to look from a higher perspective and let go of the little niggly details, it's sweetness warms me and reminds me to also breathe in the sweetness of life.

Frankincense is a great wound healer and famous cosmetic element in skincare and anti-ageing creams. It is often mentioned in the same breath as Cleopatra, well..and also embalming! It's great, especially if you have dry, irritable skin - it can be soothing and hydrating.

I am using Frankincense and Roman Chamomile for cough at the moment. Frankincense for its Lung strengthening and soul soothing properties - Roman Chamomile for its antispasmodic effect on muscles (relieves spasm - a cough is like an involuntary spasm of the muscles) and its very calming effect. I've put them in a base oil of St John's Wort - a lovely red rich herbal oil (made by soaking the chopped herb in sunflower or olive oil). It has anti-inflammatory properties and is soothing to skin - but don't go sunbathing in it as it has the potential to make the skin more sensitive to the sun. This blend is right for me, because of the kind of cough I have, my emotional state and the fact I don't live in a very sunny country at the moment. It won't cure just any kind of cough. Aromatherapists like me believe very strongly in the Individual Prescription - the blend has to be crafted for you and your immediate situation. No two persons blending the same recipe will result in exactly the same smell - this is known as an energetic signature - a theory that the person who handblends for you puts a little of their energy into the blend which makes it unique. There, a little aromatherapy mystique for everyone.

My friend Hux used to wander around Borneo as a young man with his acupuncture needles, I must get the full story from him sometime. He has just returned to practice after a break of 10 years - he says himself he doesn't know why - as we have been all asking him this because he is so good at it. Now I don't particularly like the needles myself, no no. Only Hux could persuade me, as he is very open minded and also trained in Tui Na (Chinese Massage) and agreed to put the blend on me as well as the needles. Here is a picture (yes, this is my actual hand):

Hux has put the needles in the Lung Meridian - Lung 9 and 10. He also put them in lots of other spots but we don't need pictures of those too! I felt like a pincushion. Then he also twanged them! I could feel the deep swirling and tingling sensations go through the channels. This is the first time I have been able to look at the needles without flinching - and take a picture! Perhaps it is also a testimony about how brave blogging has made me. Let's hope I get better soon - with a little help from my friends!

Sungei Wang and the Bad Man

2007-04-10T02:03:00.000+01:00

There was once upon a time, when Sungei Wang was the first and newest shopping center in all of Kuala Lumpur. The terrazzo tiles were shiny white and the air-conditioning blew vigorously, sometimes accompanied by white streamers flapping out of the vents with manic gaiety. I don’t remember very well, but it seemed like five levels all looking down into a central, square area – connected by many escalators. Everywhere the tapping of feet tramping up and down these five levels echoed endlessly and blended in with the Chinese pop songs, or Malay ballads or Lionel Ritchie coming out of the cassette tape vendors on every floor. Clean neon signs blinked without any dust or grime, yet…from the humid, traffic laden air outside.

What do people do on the weekend? Whole families come and stroll in the cool clean breeze and bright lights. They come from all over, from the suburbs, from outlying villages – Cheras, Kampar, Klang, Kajang. They tramp all over industriously window shopping, looking for a shrewd bargain.

I looked over from the dismal choice at the bookshelves in front of me and there was a Bad Man talking to my little sister. He was dressed like an office worker in a white shirt and smart slacks. He was a very confident Bad Man, smooth and sweet like a barracuda gleaming in between the humanity passing around us. My parents had left us there and gone to do an errand, assuming a bookshop would be a fairly safe place. There was no one else near us, the place seemed deserted as I craned my neck to see if they had returned. Yinmei was only four years old but she had a mulish expression on her face, she was a smart kid. She wasn’t buying any of this chat from the Bad Man, he was offering to buy her a book. He was in between us. I was twelve and hypersensitive, I knew he was dangerous with his smooth eyes and his smooth words and I felt like a little fish in front of this barracuda. I knew that Bad Men who lose face or felt like you threatened them would retaliate in ways I could never imagine. I may have been twelve but I already knew that, the boys in my town got angry if I wouldn’t speak to them. They threw invisible stones at your back.

I blurted out chattily, “That’s my little sister!” I had to buy some time till my parents came back. He turned his cold barracuda eyes on me, face softening as he judged my youth, the ribbon in my hair, my deliberately innocent face. My sister looked at me in a puzzled manner, how often had we heard the old adage, “Never talk to strangers!” I felt in my bones I had to keep talking, babbling brightly and innocently, and not in any challenging manner. What if he picked up my light little sister and ran away with her? His legs looked very long. I felt sick, I kept talking like an idiot twelve year old who didn’t know about Bad Men. “Do you like books? I like books very much!”

He was edging us closer and closer to where the shop turned into the walkway. There wasn’t an entrance to the bookstore, it was open along its entire frontage. I don’t think people shoplifted books a lot. I tried to get round to the same side as my little sister. He was cajoling, “Come, let me buy you some books or some toyslah!” “We not allowedlah, supposed to look only,” I whined. He held his hand out to my sister. She looked at me. I looked round carefully to see if my parents were in sight. The crowds milled around us, walking past ceaselessly. Could I tell someone? If I stopped to try to tell someone, would he disappear with Yinmei? “Let’s walk around the bookstore!” I said, like I wasn’t sure if I should accept such a treat. “My parents might be coming back in a little while.” We walked around the shelves. I had nodded to my sister to take his hand, I walked alongside, close as a limpet, and as frightened. I could tell he wanted us to leave the shop. He was losing his patience, he knew they would come back for us soon. I am stupid, I am stupid, I am stupid, I sang in my head. “Let’s go to the shop next door,” he said. I blinked at him innocently. “Watch your sister!” my brain screamed. “There might be something nice there,” I said slowly as possible. Walking slowly as possible.

There was my Father! He was coming up the escalator. “Dad!” I called out. He looked suspiciously at us. The Bad Man dropped my sister’s hand and I grabbed it. The barracuda was sidling away. He told my father he was just keeping an eye on us. He swam off into the crowd. I can still see his face. Thwarted. Hungry. My father looked at me. “You are the oldest,” he said. He took my sister’s hand and we all went down the escalator. The River of Money swirled all around us. He never mentioned it again. I never got to explain to my sister why I had her hold the Bad Man’s hand.

Never making a deadline

2007-04-07T12:59:00.001+01:00

If you know my previous incarnations well enough, you'll understand why the title is such. You'll chuckle a little at the irony that I went to journalism school. Did I ever hand in assignments on time? Many a long suffering professor could probably tell you, I am not cut out for the deadline life, the media whirl, hot news or...even the average term paper.

It's time for a change in perception, I have to stop thinking that my life is a series of uncatchable deadlines I can chase after all the time, and the constant failure and guilt that might suggest. My first paradigm shift should involve my birthday. Instead of going, this is the date I turn 40 what have I achieved? I am going to say, this is the year I turn 40 and I will spend the year giving myself permission and time to achieve some things which mean something to me. There. I've said it. I am going to sidle past the part of me that seems to be in a rictus of " no one and nothing tells me what to do and when to do it" and one day I am going to soothe that inner child rebellion within me - may need a horse whisperer. That's my promise.

Decadent Household

2007-04-02T22:00:00.000+01:00

What can I say, Mr G goes on and on in culinary triumph! Home made meringue with strawberry, raspberries and cream. YUM.

A visitor

2007-04-01T16:13:00.000+01:00

The apple tree in the back garden is about to burst into full blossom. Mr G took a great photo this morning.

Going to Glencot

2007-04-01T00:24:00.000+01:00

Glencot House Hotel

We went to a party for the launch of a new hotel. Everyone had to dress with "decadence". I usually wear a cheongsam to such things, but mr G was disappointed not to have a red velvet smoking jacket and a cravat. He almost refused to go. But once we reached the elegant Victorian villa with flaming torches on the terrace, and he had had his first sip of wine and nibble of chocolate eclair, he settled down to the ambience of candlelight and stuffed peacocks, ornate mirrors and overstuffed armchairs. There was a roaring fire or two and the crowning glory of his night was the abundance of Daim chocs everywhere, jars and dishes overflowed with his favourite treat. You can see the top of the jar above. The gin cocktails ran out in an hour (400 guests, free booze!) but the Daim remained and a goodly few came home with us.

Having a laff with my girlfriends!

2007-03-28T14:00:00.000+01:00

On the hill:

2007-03-27T11:36:00.000+01:00

Elegy of gateposts

2007-03-26T20:15:00.000+01:00

Lookee what I found when I was trying to see how Malaysian players were doing at badminton...blush! OK he's not Malaysian, but I think he's the current no.1 - Lin Dan from China. For a while in 2004 he was ranked below Lee Chong Wei of Malaysia who was no. 1 at the time, and is now no.4 - but that's pretty good. They are both born in October and the Malaysian is a year older. I did not get quite as good a pic - but you can compare them:

hmm, bit bony - but we wish him luck!

2007-03-25T10:37:00.000+01:00

Very small voice by my ear goes," Mummy, daddy says to come and have fish fingers and scrambled eggs."

I sit up in bed. "Are you sure that's what's for breakfast?"

Big grins, "Oh, oh. oh, I think so."

"Better go check, honey"

Little voice fading down the stairs," Daddy..."

Reappearance - "Smoked salmon and scrambled eggs, mummy."

I am spoilt, aren't I? It came with fresh squeezed orange juice, capers and spring onions and crisp soldiers of toast.

Hurray for the gourmet!

2007-03-24T08:48:00.000Z

Swans on the water.

2007-03-23T00:30:00.000Z

This is the hill where I live one winter evening. I love how the setting sun has lit up the sky just over the trees, and how the rays of light are thrown up into the air above it.

I love how I know all the paths on the north side, but have to still learn the paths to the south. I love the steepness of the steps making you wrestle for your breath like wrestling with an angel on Jacob's Ladder.

I love how the wild garlic has unfurled through the woods on the cliff and how the fallen tree stumps compose the wilderness. Birdsong is everywhere. Tight buds on trees are waiting for the mild fingers of sunshine to tease them open.

I love how the tame robin eyes me in the garden as it pulls up a juicy worm and snaps up half right in front of me. The celandines invading the grass are so mirror bright, I love the little grass spiders sunning themselves like tiny folded crabs.

I love how the phalanxes of seagulls circle below in the city, but never come up this high. I love the ferny streams in the gullies. The ordered allotments lie quietly together in a civilised manner, raspberry and bean canes in a row.

2007-03-22T23:05:00.000Z

The Malaysian High Commission

Every five years or so, holders of Malaysian passports gravitate towards Belgrave Square to renew their passports. They alight at Victoria Station and strike straight down Lower Belgrave Road, which turns into Upper Belgrave Road which leads to the Jalur Gemilang (flag) fluttering above the basement premises at the Square itself.

Perhaps they may pause at the photobooth at the station to get their passport photos (£4) or head to Kennington Road after 9am to the hardware shop where a spotty youth may aim the camera at you himself, and try to get your face absolutely straight while you press yourself up to the wall and try not to blink(£6).

Get there at 8.30am to put your name down in the book on the wooden "pulpit" at the front of the room. The formidable lady who processes you will not even speak to you unless your name is there.

Sit down and read all the signs on the wall. They generally contain vital info which one may find in the FAQ section of any good website. If the High Commission had a website which worked, they might not have to repeat themselves so much, as this information could be disseminated this way.

This lady is the heroine of the establishment, day after day, year after year, she mounts the wooden step and dispenses firmness, information, forms (25p), maps to passport photo takers, translation, humour and genuine kindness to those she judges are deserving - the truly clueless souls of our country wandering lost in this foreign land. She occasionally breaks out in a spirited lecture to those needing one for their own good eg. for not ever renewing their IC since they were 12. And no excuses for never going back to get one. She gives you a number while you scramble to get all the pieces of your application together and come prepared to use your Form 5 Malay. Without this lady, the world would not go round for the High Commission - I hope they recognise the jewel in their crown.

Proceed to the back room with the glassed in counters, they will call your number to hand in all your papers. Sit down. Then you go up again to press your thumbs against the machine and in the ink. Sit down. Then you sign another bit. Sit down. After 20 minutes they hand you an all-important receipt and say come back at 3pm. It is now about 11am. A major breakthrough.

Run away and occupy yourself. Drink a few cups of coffee or tea in a cafe and read a book... Have some Nasi Lemak or Mee Goreng from the canteen under the stairs and a bottle of water (£3.80). While you are doing all this you are also trying to answer nicely all the personal questions people are asking you because your mum taught you to be polite, but you think she should have also taught you to be rude.

Being Malaysian you plan where you might go to eat lunch. I found this place here close to Lower Belgrave Road towards Buckingham Palace - it was absolutely packed full of people! It was called Noodle Noodle.

They had a problem seating one person but were very nice about it and took my order first so I wouldn't have to wait. They seated me at the window:

I had some good warming seafood noodles with tender well cooked seafood: 2 mussels, 2 scallops, tender squid and prawns and fresh veg for £6.95. I was happy.

Then walk it off back to Belgrave Square by 2.30pm to wait to pick up your passport - at 3pm you go straight to the room at the back where they will call your name roughly in the order of the morning - listen carefully! And if you're lucky, then it's time to get another tub of Nasi Lemak for your dinner because you have been too tired from waiting around too much - and home you go.

2007-03-20T00:10:00.000Z

Badminton and other Sport

Aunty Siti lets us play in her corner garden. We are the children from across the road, although I am just visiting. I come here every week after music lessons to stay with Aunty Lin. For some reason, no one is home at my house. Sharon, John and Tommy are my gracious hosts. I went to kindergarten with Sharon who is the eldest, and to Sunday School. I don’t really remember doing any of that, but our parents remain friends and they kindly take me in. I am a bookworm. I shun althletic activities, though on sports days they make me run the 100m and do the high jump. John and the neighbour boys have set up ping-pong; and when we tire of that, there are badminton games to keep us playing all afternoon.

However, being with the other kids is lively. We are all about 10 or 11 or 12. Suddenly I relish the competition, the precise click of the ping-pong ball and the airy thwack of the shuttlecock on the sweet spot of the racket obsess me and I begin to actually play a sport. For once, I emerge from the world of dreams and feel the grass spring under my Bata shoes as I leap in the air in Aunty Siti’s garden.

The neighbour boys are all related to each other, they are two sets of brothers who live next door. They call themselves Little Brother – Big Brother/ Little Cousin – Big Cousin in the chinese custom. Later on, they may get English names, as is the Malaysian custom. Little Brother is their leader, despite being the youngest. He is born in the Year of the Monkey, and he is mercurial. I have yet to meet any other boy who talks as much as he does. He organises us. Shoves us into doubles teams. The months go by and we have all played against each other and partnered each other in turn. Mostly I speak with Little Brother, as he is the most expressive. We are the communication twins, we make leaps of imagination together. The others speak cantonese among themselves. I can understand it. The cousins don’t speak much English and Older Brother stands aloof because he is older.

Everyone is intent on the game, we move aside for our doubles games, stepping up for the stroke of our bats, of our slams and smashes. No one ever bumps into each other. It is rhythmic, even graceful, and mostly silent except for Little Brother’s commentary, his story which pulls us through the days and months.

Of course everything changes one day. We are all talking through the fence. What game do we play today? Little Brother wants me to choose. But he doesn’t want me to choose the game, he wants me to choose the boy I like the best. Little Brother is insistent and emotional. I guess now, it is because he knows inside that he is my 11-year old soul mate and he wants me to declare it. I feel anxious and betrayed. The games stop abruptly as the boys prowl the chain link fence, and I hide with Sharon, John and Tommy in their shared room and wring my hands. There is an older, more experienced shade of me which stands in the corner of my gaze. This other me knows disaster is approaching. I cannot choose Little Brother, he is too little and he has forced my hand. He’s lured me into my body and now he wants to pin down my mind.

I think that if I were older, I would like to have a crush on Little Cousin, he doesn’t say much but he has a noble brow and seems like a decent and honorable fellow. So I tell Little Brother this. I write Little Cousin a poem which he doesn’t understand and he is nonplussed by it. No one speaks to me, and Little Brother is wrathful. I can feel it emanating from the blank windows next door. Aunty Siti’s garden is silent. She must wonder where the children have gone. I never play badminton again as I have learned the shame of choosing.

2007-03-18T12:38:00.000Z

Before I leave the Spleen...

I want to talk about Damp. Damp and the Spleen go together because when Spleen is tired it doesn't digest your food very well, or transform it properly into the energy we need. Do you find that picture disturbing? I never thought I would post a picture of a tongue on my blog, but I think it is important to illustrate both Spleen deficiency and Damp coating. When I am working, all I am thinking about is getting the information from the tongue I am looking at, so I never have a problem. Damp is often prevalent when you live in a humid place, such as Malaysia or chilly wet place, such as southwest England. In hot countries, it appears as Damp-Heat, which could be something like a red, itchy rash or inflamed arthritis.In cold countries...you guessed it, Damp-Cold could just be an ache in your bones when the Siberian wind is blowing and the rain is sheeting down, or very stiff arthritis.

Damp is also associated with having high yeast levels, like candida in your body. So eating too many sugary things aggravate it - or drinking too much beer or wine (sorry folks!) - Damp makes the system very sluggish.

So to help your Spleen recover, you may also have to spend a few weeks cutting down on sugar and alcohol as well as getting some sleep and chewing your (warm) food very slowly...can it be done?

2007-03-16T00:25:00.000Z

Are you taking care of your Spleen?

In Chinese Medicine, Spleen is Earth Energy, our giving Qi. If you stick out your tongue and look at it in the mirror, do you see anything like teethmarks on the edges by the tip? If you see those, your Spleen is run down and needs some TLC.

Characteristically, most people in the caring professions have teethmarks on their tongue - unless they are remarkably balanced individuals. Also, people who worry a lot and don't sleep enough. Or people who never sit down to have a meal. Hmm, parenting probably qualifies for all three. Early parenting anyway. Later parenting probably involves trying to get everyone to actually sit down with you for a meal.

Other indications of Spleen disharmony: bad digestion - too slow or too fast; easily bruised; varicose veins; stiff muscles, fuzzy head. oh and yeah - Chocolate cravings.

Spleen usually needs a lot of nourishing. You probably do too. I probably do as well.

Daverick Legett knows a lot about how to eat for your spleen. Nice warming foods. No salads. Porridge with honey, that kind of thing - orange food - butternut squash, pumpkin with ginger...and sit down and chew.

Spend some time with your feet on the ground or digging in the garden. Spending time just in your head drains the Spleen.

Essential oils for your spleen: Cardamom, yum! geranium, cedarwood, cypress - blend with citruses to be nice to Liver and Stomach so they all play nice. Just off the top of my head...

Point to press if not pregnant: Spleen 6- place 4 finger widths over the anklebone on big toe side - press hard on the point which feels like someone is sticking you with a letter opener. Ouch! You found it. Maybe some regular attention to it may alleviate Spleen tiredness - or actually sleeping, or eating without rushing out the door, or worrying about stuff...

2007-03-07T10:58:00.000Z

The Hummus and the Haggis

Mr G and i had separate dinners last night. There has been a shortage of hummus in the UK for the last week due to the company which supplies all major retailers of hummus having a problem with salmonella!
http://www.guardian.co.uk/food/Story/0,,2015332,00.html

Mr G being a hummus lover, had been deprived of his hummus and experienced withdrawal symptoms. He discovered the hummus supply restored yesterday and arrived home bearing a pot of organic manna from M&S and pitta bread to go with it. I, in the meanwhile had unknowingly got out the Haggis for dinner - you know, chopped lambs lungs, beef hearts and liver - this one not stuffed in a sheeps stomach. We do appreciate Haggis in this house too, we had this one in the freezer since Burns night and it needed to be eaten with mashed potato, turnips, nice green cabbage and generous gratings of black pepper. So I had mostly Haggis, and he had mostly Hummus.

As we sat there sharing the hummus and the haggis, I experienced a moment of peace and contentment that Mr G and I, who are opposite in many ways, were at One in our differences.

2007-03-02T00:33:00.000Z

You know, blogging takes an unprecedented degree of technical bravery. Not only that, you have to dissect your own identity and decide which parts of yourself will be on display: which is your public face, your dark side or your avatar. OK, I'll admit there's a part of me who likes filling in forms and ticking boxes, that's what has got me this far.

I'm a little bit worried though, I've spent the past two years trying to take all the comparmentalised parts of my self and integrate them. Have them see each other, talk to each other, mention one another while speaking to other people. Blogging makes them want to go their separate ways again. Be one thing to each person. This doesn't seem to be the case for most people - many people seem to want to present all the parts to themselves, but I'm naive. It's all probably still part of the illusion.

It'll take a little while for me to figure out what this is all about and what it is all for. Happy to take that learning curve. Feel the walls of the room I'm in streeeetch a little.

see ya'll