F is for Fresh Bait

5 am; haven’t slept: assaulted by an army of Mosquitos. It started with a bite on my pinky, then a bite on my thumb; 3 am. Stuffed my hands under the covers– only to wake up in half an hour to count not 2, not 3, but 11 bites on my face ears and neck.

What? I’ve slept without Air-conditioning for the last 10 years and it’s never happened. Even during the monsoon/mosquito season. I killed one of the suckers. Blood burst. Clear torso, pale body — no lines on legs; perhaps a fresh batch of mozzies.

Tomorrow I am going to tear apart the house to find out where these guys are breeding; possibly call the pest exterminators to come and fog the area.

I am not happy; tomorrow was supposed to be a productive day of admin. But here I am; 5 am, freshly bathed, didn’t get more than 20 winks of sleep and grumpy to high heavens.

Oona has been scratching; but being a Maltipoo, she’s got the facial features of a Maltese and the fur of the poodle. Very cute but very curly– almost impossible to see her skin. Do Mosquitos bite dogs? I doused her with Purification EO. She is now hiding under the bed; seething with anger. She’s so mad she picked a fight with Pixie (not very smart, that Oona), and is growling at herself. I can hear the rumbles emanating from beneath me. Poor baby.

Woke Denn up (he woke up chirpy and happy that weirdo) to show him my bites and to check him to see if he’s been bit. Nil. He fell asleep to my fingers feeling his face, neck, arms, legs. He sleeps barely under the covers; but no bites. Me? Covered up like a snug dumpling? 11.

Pepper must know something is amiss. She curled up in a ball on my chest and comforts me. I think tonight I shall bend the rules and leave her there. As I feel her little heart beat against mine, little by little, the calm washes over. It’s wonderful being comforted by a little dog, barely larger than my foot.

M is for melt down

I had a small meltdown today; and I feel awful for it. It has been a fissure waiting to gush for a while now, and a completely-unexpected circumstance which sparked of this name-calling, finger-stabbing, foul-thinking, self-pitying tirade which shocked even myself.

So I kinda expected some tears, I did not expect the torrent of words-I-will-always-regret-saying.

I thought after the worse had past (I had dinner with the BFF, and our dear brother who is back from Shang hai) and I am somewhat soothed, I would feel better but I don’t. I feel downright petty and mean and cruel and out of control. I haven’t quite lost my temper this badly in a long while; there goes my new year’s resolution to be gentle.

I really wish Denn were here; but he’s sound asleep in Osaka. And I don’t have the heart to wake him cos he’s been sleeping so little and working so hard.

At times like this, I really really think, how to be a mother? How could I want a child, and yet fly off the earth like that. I don’t know anything about being a parent and at this point, it’s probably a good time to talk to Denn about this. We keep saying maybe next year, maybe next year. But it’s been almost 30 years, and I haven’t quite learnt to deal with myself; much less be responsible for the physical safety and moral development of another life?

B is for Bed

I’ve been awake nearly an hour and a half now; and I’m still fighting an internal war. I still don’t feel ready to face the world yet.

I guess we all have to get out of bed eventually. Sigghhh.

2013, you’ve been a blast

2013 has been an amazing year for me, and to be honest, i am sad its over. yes,  friends, this is my annual year end post, and i sit down in the quiet of my room, with the rain softly beating against the window. I know its a little late; seeing as its already february 2014. but well, i still havent gotten by 2013 closure — and i hope this helps.

2013 was a year of travel for me, and mind you i’m not complaining — i only travel with my favourite people– and there are many memories made to cherish and to hold dear. Mark Twain said:

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”

I wonder if you know/ How they live in Tokyo, (and Osaka), Japan  

 

The beautiful Greek islands and the beautiful people we met there.

 

A secret, last minute weekend getaway to Batam, Indonesia with our best couple ( you know, like best friend.. they are our absolute favourite!)

 

Driving up to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia to pick up the pillow i left behind.. in our little Toyota Rush for the first time.

 

Finally saw strawberry fields (forever) in Cameron Highlands, Malaysia with my fantastic in-laws and family.

 

 

2013, a little sad puppy at the puppy mill came home with me and became a part of my heart.

 

the other members of the tribe grew a little older, but not much wiser.

 

2013 was lovely, warm and happy. i hope 2014 is good because it has a tough act to follow.

 

 

 

Letters from the Road; Rotorua

We went for a mud bath.

Yes, even my OCD, clean freak of a Dennis went in.

I now totally understand; the pigs got it right. There’s something oddly soothing and comforting being covered head to toe in a mud pool.

It’s totally different from going for a mud wrap in a spa (and seeing as how my ex used to run one of the top luxury spas in Singapore, I would know) — it is a totally different kind of pampering I tell you, there is a certain kind of warm, bubbling joy in wallowing in mud pool.

Letters from the Road, Tauranga

My kindle died on me– horror of horrors, not even half way through the trip and I’m BOOKLESS? Can anyone else hear the night-anxiety screaming? I woke Denn up in the middle of the night ranting and raving and pleading with him to please fix it. I married a patient patient man, who calmly and coolly found me a “warehouse” (chain of stores in NZ) that sells it.

I dunno if it’s a kindle 2, or 3 or 4. It’s black, no backlight, with ads, wifi enabled. But it’s a book!! Haha! Got it! Funny how when there’s only one option, it’s the best damn option there is! I love it! Cue images of me very upset at Beekshop (a shop in Singapore that sells the kindle) because they were 3 weeks late in delivering my kindle and delivered the wrong colour and wrong version — I love the kindle keyboard. But now I have a regular kindle, and I’ve gotten quite used to it! It’s lovingly named Kia Ora!

Letters from the Road; Papamoa

Surf Sea Sky Sand Sunscreen– this is what I see, hear and feel.

A perfect little beach with its different coloured sand. The swash wash sounds of the sea. The cotton cloud balls in flight in the sky. Warm sand in my toes and wind in my face.

Life doesn’t get better.

Letters from the Road; Coromandel

There is a secret throbbing here in the coromandel; a secret beauty that lingers in my mind long after we complete the drive. With it’s vicious twists and turns and it’s winding roads, sometimes I turn my head to look back on the distance we have driven and my heart–my poor afraid-of-heights heart–slams to the roof of my palette and plunges down to the depth of my gut in fear as the back wheels of our car look like they are falling off the cliff.

The coast line is spectacular, and steep and deep and blue. We drove it in the summer sun and the sea winked diamonds back at us. This is what summer looks like, say I to my favourite person in the world– that glance, encapsulated everything I knew of summer days, drifting away.

Oysters here there and everywhere. The last trip we took we ate them fresh off the beach, using an old screwdriver and switch blade provided by one generous Maori couple doing the same. I say we, but really I didn’t eat it. Denn and the prefect did– I live vicariously through my husband’s mouth. (Haha, what a sexy double entendre)

Beautiful. I know why the kiwis come to Coromandel for their holiday too.