T is for Trumpet

oh, i love the brassy trumpet sounds, i do. especially when i think of Christmas, which makes me think of New York, which makes me think of Rockefeller, and the angels with trumpets.  

little known fact: Denn plays the trumpet. well, he played the trumpet for 7 years, in the RI concert band. but i have never heard him play a hoot. he claims he can’t play it anymore, which is a right waste of talent — considering what a beautiful important instrument it is.

2 Chronicles 5:12-14

All the Levites who were musicians – Asaph, Heman, Jeduthun and their sons and relatives – stood on the east side of the altar, dressed in fine linen and playing cymbals, harps and lyres. They were accompanied by 120 priests sounding trumpets. The trumpeters and musicians joined in unison to give praise and thanks to the Lord. Accompanied by trumpets, cymbals and other instruments, the singers raised their voices in praise to the Lord and sang:

‘He is good;
    his love endures for ever.’

Then the temple of the Lord was filled with the cloud, and the priests could not perform their service because of the cloud, for the glory of the Lord filled the temple of God.

i told denn, maybe next year, i could pick up the harp (again!) and he the trumpet, and what beautiful music we will make together. 

F is for Fever

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D is sick. like coughing his lungs out, running a fever, and sneezing. he has finally succumbed to the year-end-freak-weather flu, and is feeling right miserable. he was supposed to be on annual leave today. but his boss was kind enough to tell him to change his annual leave to medical leave instead.

but instead of resting, he is slaving away at his home office, banging out some email which “shouldn’t take too long” and is “urgent”. and its been nearly an hour since he started. i love his commitment to his job, i do. i think its important that people take responsibility and deliver their urm, deliverables. while the doctor tells him he got a bacterial infection, and augmentin should sort it out nicely.  

its been a bad season for D. he took me out for a lovely meal on my birthday, then stayed up till 4 am to finish some work while i bunked down,  with a warm puppy (pepper) and a book for company (re-reading the James Herriot Series, which is perfect for christmas). i guess there are somethings we just have to get used to, as a lawyer’s wife. not complaining, just observing.

maybe its the book i’m reading. but again, i want to move out of here.

there is never enough money, or time, or breathing space here in the little sunny island — dont get me wrong. we are living well within our means. but really, i’m exhausted from keeping up with the surge of the rat race. the type that demands you carry the latest small leather good from XXX brand, the type that requires you to sort out work when you’re raging a fever of 38.6 degrees, the type that makes you squeeze onto the train at 11 am in the morning. the type that makes you leave your bed at midnight to answer some mail. 

itching to go back to you-know-where, if even for a week. if even for pretend living. 

P is for proverbial

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This word bothers me. A lot. Don’t get me wrong. I like the word. I want to use it, sensibly and in the correct syntax. I know the context. It’s the syntax I struggle with.

It means, “as heard in a proverb”, and yes, I had to actually google it (hello, you all know who I married right. His mantra is, “if you don’t understand it, google it.”)

So if I understand it right, one can say “the proverbial rolling stone”, “the proverbial flock of feathered birds”, “the proverbial stitch in time”, “the proverbial drowning man”, “the man who lives in the proverbial glass house”, “the proverbial last straw”.

Never too old for a vocabulary lesson. Aye say! Just thought I’d share. Who wants to read morning anecdotes about my life anyway (did I tell you I lost my car today in one of the biggest shopping malls in Singapore? I forgot where I parked it, and had to go to the car park management office to ask for help. They had to drive me around in a buggy! Found it at last, 50 lots away from where I first started looking!!), when we can learn cool words like “proverbial”.

H is for Hugs

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when i was younger, i met this girl — we were dating best friends, and we became fast friends out of circumstance. she was everything i wanted to be — smart, confident, genuine. good grades, good friends, good life. i remember her laugh distinctively, and remember how infectious it was.

we met a couple of years later, older, wiser. we had a heart-to-heart by-the-beach : we’d both moved on from the boys; and talked about love and life and work and everything in between. i remember being surprised that we both didnt want to go home after the lunch; we had so much to talk about. i remember that day distinctively — i told myself i wanted to approach life the way she did. boldly — taking the day by the horns (so to speak); efficiency is the key to success. 

something happened, and we stopped talking. and little by little, we went along our own way. businesses, marriage, life. and a common friend (i forgot we had) commented a while ago, that she was going thru a tough time, but is still standing tall. she used to read my blog a while back, i wonder if she still does. 

here’s a long shot, anyway. i’m proud of you. of your achievements, of your ambitions and of your dreams. i haven’t forgotten you, and my number’s unchanged if you need some one to talk to. if you don’t it’s fine, i said a little prayer for you today. that god will keep you close, and that he will keep you safe. may the god of good things surround you with love and laughter this christmas. 

B is for Breath

In the still of the night, my lover sleeps
soundly beside me,
still.
His breathing crests and ebbs like waves upon my back.
Little feathers
that comfort and calms. my peace.
Nothing is ever so bad, when you have
such a faithful friend.
He carries my heart, my heart
Is his.

His body is always warm, on nights like these
I am grateful; for how else will my
Toes get toasty?

I love his breathing; and before I know it
I tumble and stumble
Head over toasty toes in sleep, love.

Tomorrow when he wakes, he will know none
Of this, my secret is safe.

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