Happiness is....

....Finding that PERFECT recipe for the lightest, loveliest, lemony-est, lavendery-est cupcakes EVER!!!!!!! (Thanks Phi for finding me lavender - oh, Happy Birthday!).

They came out smelling heavenly, and they taste so good, I wanted to name each and every cupcake and keep them all!

Almost didn't wanna put any frosting on them in case it overpowers the delicate flavours of the cake, but I'll think of something feather light to prettify them with.

Ahhhh.......... the joys of baking!

Jesus Kitchen...

He came today.

Late, but he came nonetheless.

Ladies and gentlement, Christ was in my home this morning.

Capenter that he is, he came, he measured, he tapped, he measured some more, and all this, while Buttercup sniffed him out and made eyes at him. LOL!

I'm expecting a quotation next week, with pretty 3-D pictures in whatever colour I may fancy. His colour pallette pretty much covers ANY colour I see driving around on the road. Yup, they use the same paint as them car paints.

So imagine a Betsy Blue with a Bookermobile maroon! (Ewwww........eating!).

But you get the picture.

Right now, I'm imagining the kitchen in a super glossy metalic red and a super glossy silver speckled black. Then I'll paint one of the kitchen walls a chilli red and shock the shock (of her now non-existing pleasantly white kitchen) out of my Mummy. Muahahahhahahahahaha!

But, I also asked him to show me the kitchen in the traditional wood grain variants, just to keep Mummy dearest happy (I'm NOT as evil as I look).

Also in a fit of wishful thinking and idealistic dreams, I've asked Christ to draw me up a bar and a tv panel, with in-built soft lighting and some wood grain dividers to separate the split level space.... And when I get the bill for this, I'll go to my RED RED kitchen and shock the shock (of my now non-existing bank account) out of my system.

And now, let us pray.......

The First Time...

They say there's a first time for everything.

It all started with me purchasing my first copy of Motor Trader earlier this week, which got that heaving chest of his bursting with pride. That Nut can be quite persuasive.

And then, before I could sink my teeth into that magazine, he calls, sounding very excited.

Honda Civic. 2.0. Mint Condition. Cheap.

And it was from a friend. His father's car. Sounded good. Reluctantly I agreed to see the car over the weekend.

But then he calls again. This time frantic. 6 people with ready and willing offers are lined up this weekend. To get my grubby hands on this sexy piece of steel, I've gotta be quick. Are you doing anything tomorrow evening?

So trepidatiously, I went for my first car-see and met up with said friend and father of said friend. As a source of superior technical car knowledge and cashmere comfort, the Nut came too (thank you!).

We chit and we chatted. If I was nervous at all before, I wasn't anymore. Father and son couldn't have been lovelier. We laughed through light hearted car banter and I tried, I really, REALLY tried not to sound dumb about car thinggies.

We test drove, and everything went well. Car was lovely.

And then it was time to talk numbers. As a first time buyer, I guess anything they ask for is automatically, too high.

But they were SUCH NICE PEOPLE I didn't want to insult them by making an offer too low. (Almost made an unreasonable offer just so I could be friends with said father and son) but the Nut checked me on that (apparently, that's NOT how you buy 2nd hand cars).

So with a pained expression on my face (it was a look of half constipation and half toothache), I, as politely as I could deferred, and then earlier today, declined.

The car was beautiful. All civics are.

It drove beautifully. In pale blue too. So pretty!

But I guess I chickened out of this one.

So I didn't get the car. But there you have it. My first time! And thank goodness the sellers were lovely people, and as always, thank goodness that comforting and supporting heaving chest was there. Thanks again Nut :D

Open season has just been declared. Let the hunt begin!

Hokey Pokey...

Nigella looked really Goddess like making it.

It looked SO SIMPLE.

Just 4 simple ingredients.

But..... sigh.

Maybe I wasn't watching the fire closely enough.

Maybe I didn't measure the sugar properly.

Or maybe I should have replaced that busted light over the stove. Checking boiling sugar for that perfect caramel colour using the light from my handphone MIGHT have caused it.

It.

"It" being the bitter, black horrible smoky burnt oil-slick like sticky mass that was left in the pot! My favourite pot no less! Thank goodness I didn't ruin said favourite pot!

Sigh.

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It's a SIGN!

Subtle, I know. Cause not many people would take a leaky engine oil tank as a sign to replace their car, but I see it as such.

A sign that maybe, just MAAAAAAAAYBE, I should START thinking of getting a new car.

Nevermind that my friends have been YELLING it into my ear, and the Nut reminds me pretty much on a daily basis, and heck, EVERYONE I know's been asking me to get a new car. From the gentle hints to the club-me-over-the-head approach, "new car" has been mentioned muchly lately.

So I guess it's time to break the bank.

No more stalling.

Bookermobile's gotta go.

Sigh.





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Yet another wet, wet Wednesday...

It's yet another wet Wednesday.

And I'm in the office. Typing away, looking very much like the busy and occupied worker.

But in reality, I'm thinking of what I'd rather be doing right this instant, as I look out at the grey landscape outside my window, splockled with raindrops...

1. Sleep.

Curtains drawn, curled up in bed, reading light on, while I finish the last few delicious chapters of my all-time favourite book "The Egg & I";

2. Eat.

If calories didn't matter, I'd be having scones with clotted cream and strawberry jam, creme brulee washed down with some cheese, crackers and white wine.

3. Bake.

Days like these my head's filled with recipes! The latest one that's been zinging in there's a big bad dark chocolate cake with bananas and hokey pokey honeycomb drowned in caramel sauce....

4. Draw.

It's been a while. But a friend showed me his debut collection of pastels and I must say, I am inspired.

5. Yoga.

There's just something about the soothing music they play and it's just you and your body. No machines, no gadgets. Over the rain, the traffic's silenced and everything's very zen..... (okay, it helps that the instructor's so cute it's almost illegal!).

But it's a couple of hours yet till my time becomes my own. For now, I'll just sit back, sip on green tea and dream a little.....

Ahhh....

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Holiday dresses

After the month that was May, I need a holiday.

Nut, if you're reading this..... I NEED A HOLIDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok then, back to normal stuff.

Just spent a bomb (think Hiroshima) on clothes. From France. Which got shipped to UK, and will be coming home to me next week! Yeayyy!

Dresses that are made for women with boobs! Holiday-y summer-y ones! Yeayyy! And I got pants too! Which are long enough!!! And... IN MY SIZE!!!!!! *twirly dance of joy*.

Seriously, I love Malaysia and everything, but this country makes and sells women's clothes for tiny petite little things. Anything "free size" would most definitely, 100% guaranteed not fit, and those "proudly Malaysian" labels... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA... I don't even bother.

To be honest, the only thing that kinda fits are stuff made for (sadly) plus sized <-- no problems with that cause some of these pieces are rather pretty, but I'm curvy (aka fat - I'm not delusional... let's call a spade a spade) all around, and not just at my tummy or butt, and these plus sized clothes hang at the wrong places on me.

And for those of you who are gym buffs, (who are thinking I really shouldn't be whining but sweating my butt off on them machines) honey, I'm on the wrong side of 30, and ALL dreams of losing weight and looking like Angelina Jolie has flown out the window, died a thousand deaths and been buried.

I've come to accept that I look the way I do.

I will never be skinny, svelte or waif-like, no matter HOW many laps I swim, or how much I try getting into that (*&%#$&#^$) yoga position.

I am curvy. I am wobbly.

And I'll NEVER be able to wear skinny jeans.

But you know what? I actually LIKE me this way!!!!!

Quite a lot :D

Giant feet and all (but that's another blog, for another boring Wednesday).

Ok... Nut, the holiday, and yes, it is for the sole purpose of me having reason to wear them pretty dresses!

What better reason to go for a holiday rite?

:D:D:D

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