I'm back!

Went to visit my sister in London for a couple of weeks.

It was a pretty last minute decision, based on MAS suddenly lowering their airfares for the Easter season. So barely 10 days before the flight, I booked my tickets, and with narry a plan, I was off!

Arriving in London smack at the start of their Easter break with NOTHING planned was FUN but stupid. FUN cause it meant that my sister and London based friends had time to spare and took me around and fed me. STUPID cause everything was fully booked!

So hung around London a lot this trip, which I am not complaining about. I love the museums and galleries there..... It still astounds me that the original works by michaelangelo, raphael and leonardo (no, not the ninja turtles) are there, on display at their museums, and I get to oggle at these masterpieces for as long as i want... for FREE!

Made several really really enjoyable day trips to Brighton, Windsor, Kent and an unbelievable day trip to Paris too.

Oh, and a long and lazy weekend in Scotland! That was lovely :D


Extended my stay a bit cause I HAD to. Icelandic volcanic ash over the airways closed all UK airports for 6 days, and my flight home was at the very days of airport closure. Flight got cancelled twice. But that simply means more musuems, more days in the park, and more musicals :D

So, museums, musicals, pub food, puddings and many kgs added on later, I am home.

And as much as I loved my trip to London, I must say, it's good to be home :D




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Oh Nigella!

So I had some leftover egg yolks from the cranberry-orange and almond cake I made recently.

And mucking about the fridge, I found a zested orange sitting forlornly in one sad corner. Also found a couple of lemons I'd forgotten about lurking in the crisper of said fridge.

So what do I do?

LEMON-ORANGE CURD!!!!

Yummy!

Did my bestest Nigella Lawson impersonation this morning, complete with British accent (in my head) and her signature - finger dipping in the luscious, lemony curd and licking my fingers, smacking my lips after, while making eyes at..... my kitchen wall.

Oh well..... waste not, want not! :D



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Me bake?

I've always enjoyed baking.

Whether others enjoyed my baking.... now, that's another story.

I remember when I was younger, whenever I wanted to bake, my Mom would say "Please don't, don't waste flour". Sigh.

And when I DID bake, it always turned out as unrisen, hard doughey things. Which would sit on the kitchen table till it smelled funny, and ultimately end up in the bin. (even the dogs wouldn't have a go at them).

But lately, I've picked up baking again.

And this time, I bought MY OWN FLOUR!

And boy have I been baking!

I've done several! Red velvet, pink velvet, velvet baileys, key lime coconut, banana butterscotch walnut, pandan chiffon, passion fruit meringue, lemon meringue, pavlova (which didn't turn out so well) and strawberry shortcake!

I enjoy scouring the internet for recipes and tweaking them to suit whatever's in my baking stash. No heavy cream? No problems, I've got baileys.... what? They're both creamy-ish....

No lemon essence? No issues, absolut citron/bacardi limon should do the trick ;)

No orange flower water (whatever that is!!!) ? Hello cointreau! :D

Stick with things you know I say. And thank the heavens, them cakes have turned out.... passable.

So far no one's hurled either the cake, obscenities, rotten eggs, tomatoes or fruit, or simply hurled at me whenever I give them cake, so I take it as a good, and promising sign.

Well, it's no where close to them professional bakery cakes, but I'm having a great time baking! For one MUST sample the ingredients that go in (which reminds me, I'm running low on Bailey's and rum (for all them rum soaked raisins.... ahh....yummmm) and one must also sample the finished product (damn my jeans are super tight now... I wonder why....).

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He's four....

He’s four. And he was having a tummy ache.

Complaining to his mummy, he asked why his tummy ached so.

His mummy replied that it happens because it’s his body’s way of communicating.

His tummy makes a phone call to his brain, and his brain will tell him to ask mummy for some medicine.

Placated, the little one took his medicine and settled down.

An hour later, when he felt better, he looked at his mummy square in the face and asked “So what’s my brain’s phone number?”

He’s four. Stunners like that can only come from someone who’s four.

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Close call....

Thank goodness for Phi.

I was driving. Phi sat in the front passager seat, CP behind us.

We came to a junction. To my right, waiting to cross the road, a mother in BRIGHT RED was with her two little girls, holding on to their hands in each of her own.

The mother saw me, and stopped.

I stopped, acknowledged her, and looked to the the left to check for oncoming traffic.

The road was clear.

I started to move.

"JOYCE! JOYCE! JOYCE! Stop!!!!!!!"

I saw nothing. Only Phi's cries asking me to stop registered. Unquestioningly I stopped. And thank goodness I did.

One of the little girls had let go of her mother's hand, and had started to cross the road, barely inches from my bonnet. She was so tiny, I did NOT see her.

If Phi had not called out, I would have run her over for sure.

And that thought still shakes me up.

Thank goodness for Phi.





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I dream…

For those of you in the know, my father passed away in July this year.

The loss brought me grief and sorrow like I’ve never known. Coping is the only thing I can do now, slowly but surely I’m trying to make some semblance of sense into this thing called ‘my life’ now.

I’ve been dreaming of my dad lately.

In my dream, I woke up, my usual happy self, burst out my room door and happily hollered out to him from the upstairs hallway, expecting him to be downstairs, watching either CCTV 9 or National Geographic. Expecting like I always do for his reply, to which I’d answer with our ritual weekend breakfast date.

But silence greeted me.

And then reality hit me. The jolt was severe and sudden. And I awoke. The reality of his loss falling on me like a tonne of bricks.

Weekends will never be the same.


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The Doosh! *swoon*

For those who've known me for many a year, you will remember my intense love affair with "the Doosh".

No, it is not a sanitary device nor is it the sound one makes when air punching or kicking someone.

But excitement is me, cause my dear dear friends, I AM GOING TO SEE THE DOOSH!!!! LIVE!!!! IN PERSON!!!!! IN ALL IT'S VIBRATING GLORY!!!!!!!

Yup! Alan Tham & Hacken Lee concert's this Saturday, and the tickets are in my bag :D:D:D:D

*twirly dance of joy*

Ahhh..... all those hours of looking at that doosh, and imagining it vibrating, moving sensously up and down.....

Ok... this is getting a little TOO cheeky, even for me!

Lol! For those who havent known me for that long, the Doosh is what I had affectionately named Hacken Lee's......... adam's apple.

I admit, I had a thing for it.

And when I was much, much MUCH younger (and stupider goes without saying, but I'm saying it anyways), I had the Doosh syndrome. I called it the Doosh, and had HUGE crushes on guys with Dooshes to match. And ONLY, ONLY if their Dooshes were a respectable size of an apple. Them grapes, strawberries and lychees warranted narry a glance... but ahh.... how my heart skipped a beat when I spotted...... a Doosh.......

And come Saturday, it won't be just any Doosh.... I'll be seeing THE DOOSH!

Oh boy, oh boy OH BOY!!!!!!



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