Monday, August 26, 2013

What is love...

Ever so often, Ed would teach me what love is.

It isn't the luxurious holidays, expensive gifts or grand gestures.

It is in all the smallest things, in the everyday, in the routine.

It is when he does the laundry.

It is when he asks if there's anything I need help with in the kitchen when all he really wants to do is take a nap. 

It is when he does the dishes the day after parties I throw a party for my friends. 

It is when he offers to fetch me from the office even though he is miles away. 

It is when he asks to hold my hand in the middle of an argument. 

It is when he empties the dustbins in the home. 

It is when he knows I'll be home before him, and leaves the light at the front door on. 

It is when he waters all the plants in the home. 

It is when he teaches me how to love myself first, before anyone else. 

It is when he does the laundry and the dishes and empties the dustbins and waters all the plants before I get home. 


Friday, May 17, 2013

Clare.

If she were a girl, her name would have been Clare. For the short-lived 2 weeks after I saw that faint blue line with disbelief and joy all happily intermingled, I could just feel it - that she would be a chubby little princess with her father's beautiful lashes and stubborn heart. But God called her home one night, maybe because He knew best... No, because He knew best. So up she went to join her brother, who was probably going to be called Tyson. Or Paul.

I will always pray for you my babies, and know you will pray for us too.

Love you for eternity.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Being the salt

Today's homily was about salt. Ed and I attended different masses, but both priests talked about being the salt in other people's lives. We all know that salt, when added to food, well... makes food salty. But salt also brings out other flavours in a dish that may otherwise be muted. To cut a long story short, both priests talked about acting in ways to bring out the best in others.

The priest at S.I. talked about Mr Bai Fang Li, a rickshaw operator who devoted a good part of his life to secure a brighter future for orphans in his community. I read more about him here, and was moved to big fat tears. His story made me want to do the same, or at least get my butt moving to give back to the community no matter how small it is. The occasional cash donation eases my guilty heart, but only temporarily. And really, no matter how I think about it, I know I am merely taking the easy way out.

Mr Bai Fang Li makes me want to be a better person; his story has brought out the best in me. I hope to one day do the same for others.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Haji Lane rediscovered

Photobucket

Vintage dress from Dulcetfig
Ed and I hung out with a couple of kooky friends last Saturday and found ourselves in a cool new bar called Bar Stories at 57A Haji Lane. I craved for something refreshing and citrusy, so they recommended the Grapefruit Martini that was all I had asked for and then some. They were part furniture store, part bar - the kind of place I will henceforth bring alkie friends to in a heartbeat.
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I used to visit Haji Lane every other month, always making a stopover at my favourite boutique - Soon Lee. This Saturday trip reignited my love for the tiny, nondescript lane. I went back on Tuesday to browse the stores and picked up a lovely vintage dress on a ridiculous offer. In addition to Bar Stories, a couple of other shops in the area are 'must sees'.
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Salad Shop
25 Haji Lane
For home accessories and dresses
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Dulcetfig
41 Haji Lane
For vintage dresses, accessories and cute clutches
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Doinky Doodles
33 Bali Lane
For handmade dolls, laptop bags, handphone covers and all other random things
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Piedra Negra
241 Haji Lane
Mexican food (ask for their deep fried bananas)
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Bar Stories
57A Haji Lane
Cocktails and mocktails

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Photobucket Pictures, Images and Photos


I have been mighty stressed of late because of (surprise surprise) work. Sometimes (actually many times) I wonder why I care so much, why I get so harassed when I cannot complete my tasks. After all, when we are minutes away from breathing our last, what really matters isn't how many tasks we've completed or by when, but who our lives impacted and how.

I was somehow reminded of this when I saw a tiny pair of pale pink shoes left in the middle of a carpeted lounge, abandoned for happy, carefree, barefooted pursuits. What I would give to feel that way again.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Moving poem that I just had to share

I slept and dreamt that life was joy;
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I awoke and saw that life was duty;
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I acted, and behold, duty was joy.
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- Rabindranath Tagore