vicious babies on the loose

I'm not as mean as I look...

2006-09-12T11:25:00.000+08:00

I can't say I'm surprised at the public relations disaster S2006 is turning out to be. All 4,000,000 smiles can't ease the pain of 28 banned activists. The surprise really is why neither the host country nor the organisers saw this coming when they settled on Singapore way back when. Given our legendary pigheadedness in sticking to our guns, why even take the risk? Has everyone - on either side - forgotten Michael Fay?? Singapore should consider it has lost more than it's gained from this overhyped meeting (which for the rest of us basically means we stay away from suntec city the next week and for shops in that area unmitigated disaster.)

Anyway, three thoughts come to mind as foreign dignitaries and indignitaries wing their way to our shores (I hope they have the right papers!):
1. It would be impossible for the S'pore government now to reverse their stand without riling their citizens. You can't have one rule for us and one rule for foreigners. I would like to see the rules relaxed, but not this way, sorry.
2. Activists need to get out of confrontation mode, sometimes. Is compromise such a dirty word? Is there no other way to engage the Establishment than by disruptive outdoor protests promsing the potential of violence (is that wanking or what)?
3. It's not right for august institutions like the IMF or World Bank to pressure the host nation. That is merely making political capital for oneself.

As for the 28 activists... I feel their pain. It was heavyhanded and overly cautious, of course, but pretty typical. It won't be the first time they haven't been treated with courteous respect, and Singapore won't be the first - or last - country to exercise its right over who to admit to its sovereign shores.

Let's hope the security sideshow won't overshadow all else, including the IMF and World Bank's own problems. Sadly, many will go away smug in the knowledge that Singapore is a police state. The short answer to that is that of course we are, and yet we are so much more too...

Working for a health mag is quite the opposite...

2006-09-11T18:02:00.000+08:00

Working for a health magazine is not exactly the most reassuring of jobs, though you become knowledgeable with all sorts of information that you hope never to have to use. You become more absorbed, no, obsessed, with your body than you should.

Since Mind Your Body began, I've pictured my own demise more times than was sensible from the litany of horrors that we "educate" the public about. I've already died from metastatic cancer, heart failure, COPD, and become terribly debilitated by Crohn's disease, glaucoma and diabetes. I've felt all kinds of mysterious pains which signalled that I would soon die, and every unusual bodily emission has become associated with the most ominous symptoms.

Last week my middle region became palpably tender after we published a story about pancreatic cancer which carried the mournful message that it may not matter how diligently you exercise or how carefully you eat. One day you may still find yourself in a doctor's office doubled over with cramps while he tells you to set your affairs in order.

Of course we publish good stuff. We tell people about the best supplements to buy, the right things to eat, activities they can take up to get fit or de-stress. Somehow that kind of information pales in comparison...

I suppose I should be grateful for the advance warning -- the body IS distressingly mortal so you should be ready to shed the corporeal when the time comes. How one starts to do that, I haven't yet figured out, or I wouldn't be so preoccupied with whether my sinuses are just blocked or if a massive growth is impeding my breathing...

This has got to be a first

2006-05-30T21:38:00.000+08:00

At 7 this morning, I jumped out of bed to answer my ringing cellphone, wondering who on earth would be calling me at that hour. It was Alexis -- calling me FROM THE LIVING ROOM.

""Why are you phoning me, Alexis?'' I asked. In my sleepy state I thought she might be at her grandma's though I had a memory of going in the children's room to check on them late the night before. ""I want to know who's taking us to the zoo today,'' she said.

""Put the phone down now,'' I growled as I walked out of the room. She was coming towards me, with a very sheepish smile. ""I thought you were at work!'' she said. I think she had dialled my number out of sheer force of habit.

This must be a sign. I'm not home enough. You reckon??

Not too soon for June

2006-05-29T11:20:00.000+08:00

Isabel woke me up at 6.30 this morning, ready to have a bath and get ready to go to zoo camp. Usually on schooldays, we have to drag her out of bed at that hour. No such reluctance today.

It's not that she dislikes school, a fact she reminded me of when she called me at work on Thursday, upset that a file photo of her had been used for a blurb for Mind Your Body the day before. It was to illustrate a story about some children's anxiety over going to school.

She was in tears. It's not that I mind having my picture in the papers, she said. That's not why I am upset. But I mind people thinking that I don't like to go to school. It's not true at all. What if my classmates see it and think that I do? It would be very embarrassing. What if Miss Katherine sees it? Or Miss Ling?

I didn't really have an answer to the clear-minded logic of a seven-year-old. Instead I felt ashamed that it hadn't even occurred to me, her mother, to think about her feelings when Rishad showed me the blurb before it went to print.

Then she offered up her cousin for next time. Ethan wants to be in the papers, she said earnestly, and he doesn't mind frowning. Next time you need a picture of a frowning kid, you can take a picture of Ethan and use it instead. You could hear Ethan in the background agreeing.

I had to stifle my laughter. She was persuasive!

But anyway, although both she and Alexis don't mind school, it's also a drag to have to be up at 6.30 every morning and in bed by 8 every night. I can't tell you how much all of us have looked forward to these next four weeks. It won't be too soon before my leave starts on June 10. Sometimes one just wishes for a more quiet, less demanding life. Where would that be?

I mean, just this morning alone, it took us 20 minutes to locate a taxi so that we could get to zoo camp by 9am. We arrived at 9.10, in plenty of time but still, there had been some anxious looking at the watch along the way, and not by me alone.

Then we waved goodbye and after the children walked away, I bought a coffee and sat down near the entrance for the next half hour with my book. It was really pleasant -- beautiful sunny weather, greenery all around, the sound of water in the background, and nowhere to have to get to for the next five hours. Wouldn't it be great if every morning could be this way?

I hope the girls will be okay at camp today and that they enjoy themselves. It's the first time they've had to complete an entire day's activity without a grownup they know with them. Even when we went to riders' lodge, Jonathan and I were in the vicinity, if not with them during the activities. I hope they won't be anxious today and be keen enough to go back tomorrow!

Working party

2006-05-05T04:30:00.000+08:00

Decided to finally do what every Singaporean has been doing the past week and go to a Workers' Party rally, the final one before polling day on May 6.

The last time I attended a rally was also a WP one, in the archery field in Portsdown Rd in 1997. I'd gone there to listen to Mr JBJ, drawn by his call to Singaporeans to ""take your power.'' The idea of an empowered citizenry was an attractive one (beginning with the power NOT to vote the ruling party), but I was disappointed by his meanderings with the occasional bombast. The crowd was a desultory one but appearances can be deceiving. That was the year the WP took it to the wire in Cheng San. I think so, anyway!

This year they are once again oh so close to winning a GRC in Aljunied. If crowd numbers are to be believed, victory should be theirs tomorrow. But as the elderly gentleman next to me pointed out: ""Don't look at the crowd. This is all wayang.''

But wow, what wayang. Once Serene, Ember and I were on that field, there was no getting out. At 7.10 there were perhaps 1,000 people; by 8.30 the crowd was swarming like ants around a drop of honey, but unmoveable ants. Bodies packed the entire perimeter of Serangoon Stadium and we were getting text messages (started by provocateurs???) that there was gonna be crowd trouble, so watch out.

As it turned out, there was none. At 9.55pm, everyone sitting on the field rose to their feet and cleared their belongings, as though to a pre-arranged signal though there was none. I realised they were all rally veterans. Mr Low Thia Kiang appealed to the people in the bleachers to let the people on the field out first. They obediently did so order prevailed. We heard that the lights had been shut off at 10 on the dot in an earlier rally. The folks at the stadium were kind enough to leave them on till everyone had made their way out.

And I must say that things are not the same anymore at the Workers' Party. They have worked extremely hard at communicating with people. Just about every speech was cogent and well-delivered and showed how much they must have practised their public addresses. And when Sylvia came up to the rostrum the crowd's affection spilled forth. They surged to the front with banners professing their love. She responded in fine form, saying: ""If two or three of you love me, that is okay. But if more than 10 of you do, I won't be able to concentrate!'' People roared with laughter. Not only do they know how to make speeches, these are also candidates who are genuinely likeable.

I scanned the crowd for the young English-educated intelligentsia who are the ones agitating for an opposition in parliament. I didn't see many. Yes, there were young people but by and large the crowd was older, poorer heartlanders clutching Chinese evening papers which they laid on the field to sit on. One uncle next to us even revived a leftwing anachronism when he told us to beware of Sor Luan (who had stopped to take our pictures). ""She's not a photographer,'' he cautioned. ""She's a running dog.''

Running dog???

We didn't tell the poor girl, who was just doing her job. As the night wore on, the running dog press was forgotten anyway. The crowd was held rapt by the candidates, who surely knew which buttons to push. But the reason they got such a wholehearted response, I think, was because the pain they tapped into was real. All around me people were looking for answers to the lot that life had handed them. They were looking for a saviour for their future.

I don't know if the WP has got the answers they want. I didn't hear any that night; mostly it was crowd provocation and very skilful provocation at that. But I think that they, as the underdog, can relate to the underdogs whose cause they say they want to champion.

The master stroke of the evening came at 9.55 when Mr Low suggested that we all recite the pledge together, in English and Chinese. Hand on heart, I have never heard the pledge said with such emotion. In one move, he'd managed to make everyone forget they were the ""opposition.'' We were all Singaporeans, all patriots, all in this together. Around me, aunties and uncles didn't even have to wait for him to lead. They knew every phrase by heart and said it with true conviction. I was almost brought to tears. It was an emotional high, like being at a national day parade, but one which wasn't carefully crafted with music and pyrotechnics.

Magnificent stuff.

Fort Me

2006-04-25T12:26:00.000+08:00

Jonathan turned 40 today, which is a good thing as I was getting lonely being there on my own...

I gave him a Trek 12oo road bike, which is not as significant as being at the cusp of another decade. It was just something I thought he would like. I'd actually thought about other gifts like a plasma TV or a dive trip to Komodo but those ideas had been leaked to him before they were executed so I had to drop them.

I thought the bike would be useful for the triathlon he's planning to compete in come July. It was also sweet. That was all. I didn't think how it must seem to someone leaving his 30s behind. ""You got me a healthy gift,'' he said. Approvingly, I hope. In any case, he was sincerely surprised when they delivered it in the morning (esp since he was still in his boxers!).

We will take the girls out to lunch at Bather's as a treat and tonight I will buy him dinner at Morton's. It'll be a quiet 40th and it will pass like any other day.

I don't remember that much about how I spent my own 40th, back in January (waaaay back). I had friends over for a meal the weekend before Jan 18. It wasn't a particularly memorable party. On the day itself, I didn't have to work. Date aside, it was just another day, an anticlimax, as it should be.

I have chafed for so long at the process of getting to 40, hating the idea of growing old. Where did the intervening years go? Thirty was the peak of life. Now I look back and I can't connect the dots anymore of how I got to be middle-aged and middle-class, married with kids and no longer in possession of a waistline.

No one can help how time slips away but not being able to do anything substantive about it doesn't make it any easier. Every now and then I wonder how it would feel to get to 50 (and 60 and 70 etc). Age creeps up and lays its chilly fingers on me. But then it occurred to me recently that it's better to get to 50 than not to! I've been ridiculous agonising over it. I'd take growing old any day over not getting the chance to...

2006-04-17T23:17:00.001+08:00

Alan suggested driving up to Frasers Hill for the Easter weekend, with our respective families, and mum and dad.

Fraser's Hill?? Gosh, I haven't thought of going there since we last were, in 1980. I have pictures of me riding a pony, and memories of staying in a house with a ping pong table, which we used a lot because there wasn't anything else to do!

But it was also charming. There was a fireplace and the caretakers cooked delicious meals for us, serving us toast in a silver toast rack. Funny the things you remember...

The most recent thing I'd read about this hill station, which the British used as a retreat since the 1920s, was that the British high commissioner to Malaya, Henry Gurney, had been ambushed and shot there in 1951 by the communists. According to Chin Peng's memoirs, what everyone had thought had been a great coup by the communists (killing Britain's highest officer in Malaya) had actually been unpremeditated. It was a lucky accident. Gurney had thrown himself across his wife to save her, which was very heroic, I thought.

Anyway, there is a plaque to commemorate the spot where he had been gunned down but I never saw it on the drive up. The drive is still sickening. The dramamine I'd taken barely put a dent in my nausea and dad was of course just as sick as me.

We'd actually driven from KL on Friday around lunchtime, having left for KL the night before and stayed overnight in a hotel. The drive up was uneventful but then Alan's new Saab gave up the ghost the moment we parked it in the grounds of Singapore House. Amazingly it had gone all the way until then! Hours of phonecalls later he and Jonathan figured it was the fuel pump which was dodgy but there was no fixing it. Arrangements had to be made for the car to be towed down the hill on Sunday morning and repaired in KL on Monday.

So that was a real dampener for my poor brother. As for the rest of us we were slowly being won over by the quiet charms of the place. All right, so the restaurants and shops had seen better days but the weather was just lovely and it was beautifully tranquil. I told Jonathan that as a child I had a book of stories about Borneo (hard cover, musty, eaten alive by silverfish, with black and white illustrations of slow lorises and mousedeer -- magic!) and this was how I had envisaged the Borneo rainforest to look and feel and smell.

The bungalow we stayed in had a beautiful outlook but though clean, was rather drab and old. I thought we had paid too much for it at S$210 a day, not including meals. In fact, lying in the tiny bed at night with a child sleeping next to me, it felt a little spooky too, and dogs barking didn't help...

Anyway, the first day went well until we dragged the kids on a nature trail with us and Isabel, already complaining nonstop, picked up a leech on her ankle. The child screamed like she was being murdered. I was convinced that a cop would come out of nowhere and arrest us for abusing her. She really was terrified and she would hardly stop sobbing and screaming while Jonathan ran to the nearest house for salt.

That of course was the end of all nature walks for the children. The next day, J and I did one on our own. They are very pleasant, really, and not difficult.

The most spectacular thing was the mists, which rolled in swiftly at dusk, enveloping the house on the hill we stayed in. On the second night Jonathan, dad and I were out when it happened and I watched the mists crawl in and swirl around an abandoned stone mansion. It was deliciously ghostly.

If the drive weren't so puke-inducing I'd suggest going to FH more often. There's a lovely forgotten feel about the place. On Sunday we had lunch at the Smokehouse, which was absolutely charming, and out of the colonial days. Or even a farmhouse in France, or something. At night we sat around and watched a movie or played Cadoo. It was relaxing and the cold weather was just great!

Trinerds, go!

2005-12-14T21:23:00.000+08:00

There's a first time for everything. I never was sporty in school so I rarely hung out with anyone who was athletic. I wasn't ever considered for a sport of any kind so I never knew what it was like to be part of a team, to train for competition, or to live and breathe that kind of mental pressure.

About two and a half weeks ago, I found myself in a place where nearly everybody did. All right, make that about 700 bodies -- all participating in the Phuket Laguna Triathlon on Dec 4.

I was there to cheer on Jonathan, who was doing the 12km run in a relay with a team, aptly named Insane. Their swimmer was another photographer, Udo (2km) and their cyclist a schoolteacher in Bangkok named Helen (55 km). Udo's wife, Barbara (the EPA photo chief in Bangkok), did the whole race herself. I was much impressed by her fitness (not to mention her calmness and good humour!).

Udo had talked Jonathan into racing as a team. Their first outing had been in May to the Bintan triathlon, where J managed to complete a 10km run without any training for it. I am not kidding. I was insanely jealous, considering that I've been running at least three times a week for the last five years and I never seem to get any better or faster...

I guess the fact that he was a state champion cross country runner in his youth must really help!

The Bintan race assured him that he could run again, I guess, so off we went in December to Phuket, with Serene and Steve. We stayed in a lovely little place in Kamala called Duvbo Village, which had just six spacious villas, a pool and real homely atmosphere. Barbara, Udo and Zoe were also staying there. In fact, we had got the place with her connections, for THB1,000 a night, around S$40.

Anyway, with Serene and Steve chillin' most of the time, I found myself on more than one occasion surrounded by super-fit and determined racers... and convinced I must have stuck out like a sore thumb!

Race day dawned hot and sticky, unlike the previous rainy mornings. The Creans slept while J leapt out of bed and made breakfast for the two of us (fried egg sandwiches and coffee). We got to Laguna in a tuk tuk for THB250. The swimmers crowded on the beach and as the starting gun went off, they swarmed into the sea, like a colourful shoal of fish, churning up the water with their swift strokes.

J and I walked up the beach to meet them coming in through the hotel lake (the swim encompassed both a sea and a lake swim) but the first swimmers got there before we did on foot.

The race winners were amazing. They completed all three legs in something like two plus hours. In fact, as the front-runners came in, J hadn't even started on his run yet!

Finally, he was off, in the heat of midday, at 11am, finishing in under an hour. Udo and I were at the finish line to cheer Barbara and J as they came in, as well as other competitors in their group (known as the Trinerds).

Trinerds. Team Insane. Monikers all chosen for their awareness of how this group of ordinary middle-aged folk must seem to others embarking on something that in its ultimate form is called the Ironman.

Yet everyone in this group completed what they had set out to do. In fact, nearly every race participant finished it. The crowd cheered each tired athlete as they came in, staying right to the end to welcome home the very last one.

At the finishing line, J and I cracked open the champagne we had chilling in the medical tent's ice freezer and shared it all round. Whatever their times had been, everyone was triumphant. The tremendous sense of achievement was palpable as well as infectious: I almost felt I had finished the race myself just standing near the sweaty tired bodies!

Serene in fact was inspired to start training herself, for distance runs. On the whole, we had an amazing time. We crashed the carbo-loading party was well as the post-race celebrations, where we stuffed our faces and danced until the deejay said it was time to go home.

Phuket itself was lively. There were more people at this year's triathlon than ever before (and the biggest group, at 231, were from Singapore). Apart from small patches of rebuilding, you couldn't tell that Patong had been hit by a tidal wave a year ago. The restaurants and girly bars are all as packed as before. In fact, I almost wished the tsunami had washed that part of Phuket away for good.

For the most part, we avoided Patong. When we weren't in Kamala or Laguna, we explored other beaches like Nai Thon (lovely!) and Lam Sing. But it was clear that, as the banner at the entrance of the Phuket Laguna district proclaimed, Phuket Is Back!

Malacca

2005-11-29T22:19:00.000+08:00

What's up with us? We don't go to Malaysia for years and then suddenly we go twice in two months. All right, that's an exaggeration. Twice in three months.

The kids utterly loved Redang, when we went in September, and then on Nov 11, we drove up to Malacca in two cars with grandma and grandpa, Alan, Yuen Fong and Ethan.

We left late, about 7pm, and ran into a sea of motorbikes, eight deep in the lanes, at the Second Link. It took about 45 minutes to get through Sing immigration, but otherwise there wasn't a hitch driving up. Somehow we stumbled on the Renaissance Hotel (no thanks to the rather confusing directions from its website) checked in, dumped our bags and went out to get a bite. This was 10.30. We went to a no-name coffee shop nearby and had decent enough hokkien mee.

Then we went back to the hotel and slept, though it turned out that wasn't the end of the evening for grandma and grandpa, as grandma had forgotten her PJs. So while the rest of us were snoring, the two of them were shopping for something she could wear to bed!

The next morning we had breakfast in the hotel, then walked about 10 minutes to the church square and the stadhuys. Nothing much to see or do; the kids played in the playground by the UMNO museum and then we walked to Mahkota for some airconditioning.
It was blazing hot out, but our enthusiasm for good food was beyond reproach; somehow we located the Teochew Bak Kut Teh in Jalan Laksamana. Alexis was completely disgusted but the rest of us loved it. It wasn't just bak kut in the claypot, but belly pork, and mushrooms. The braised pig's trotters too were mixed with glistening slices of belly pork in a rich, redolent, slightly spicy gravy. To accompany it was tow gay, lightly stirfried and fragrant with garlic, and bowls of yam rice. Outstanding. And the whole bill came up to 68 ringgit.

Then it was back to the hotel for a dip in the very nice pool. I do like the Renaissance. It's not fancy but it's very decent, and it cost us $120 per room. Around 5pm we emerged again, to a Malay village on the river which we could see from our room. While the kids picked bunga raya from the aidilfitri celebrations, we went and poked around in somebody's home-cum-living museum. Lovely open Malay house on stilts dating from the 1920s. From there we walked to Jonker, along the river some of the way. The Malaccan government is putting money into building a boardwalk along the Melaka river. It will be quite a lovely walk when it's all completed. Right now, there's only about 500m of it.

We had dinner at a pokey hole in the wall place in Jalan Hang Kasturi called Teo Soon Loong, on the recommendation of a friend. You have to make a reservation at this poky place or you might not get a table. We over-ordered that night but who could blame us? Everything looked spectacular. As a result we had oyster noodles, a whole roast suckling pig, braised goose, steamed pomfret, steamed crab, deep fried soft shell crab,and stewed cabbage with abalone. We ate till we could eat no more and we had to cancel the orh ni. It was all unbelievably good. The noodles were especially satisfying. The damage was RM560. Pretty amazing value. Ok, by Singapore standards.

On the way back our eyes -- well, MY eyes -- popped out at the sight of the goodies along the way; orluak, chai tow kuay, ham cheem bang, steamed cockles, all cooked along the roadside and calling our names. Alas, they will have to wait till next time. In the hotel, we watched TV in Alan's room, drank beer and snacked on the left over suckling pig. Hehe.

Left the next day but not after doing more damage with chicken rice balls and Baba chendol in Jonker Street, in between poking around the shops and buying a few things. We left Malacca at about 4pm, and arrived in Gelang Patah at about 6.30, winding up our trip with more cheap and good food, this time seafood at a place called Tian Tian Lai.

We got home to Sunset Way about 8.45. Was royally late for Nat Soh's wedding but made it to the Tanglin Club at 10.30. Jonathan said he admired my energy! So did I!

Funny girl

2005-10-29T00:07:00.000+08:00

Isabel's developing quite a sharp sense of humour, but then she's always shown signs that she can think on her feet. As a toddler her speech was not very good. She would say k for s, so Ikabel, instead of Isabel. Miss Katherine, in a bid to teach her the correct form, asked her one day what her name was. ""Ikabel,'' replied my two-and-a-quarter year old. ""Is your name Ikabel then?'' asked Ms Kat. Isabel shook her head. ""What is it?'' asked Ms K. ""Mei mei,'' shot back the child.

Now she's constantly making cracks that crack me up. Last week I took them to the pool at NUSS. When we got out for lunch, she complained of being cold. I said she could have her towel but it might be cold and wet later, so she asked if she could use my shirt to dry herself with. Well, what am I going to wear then, I asked. Your other shirt?? she asked cheekily, then burst out laughing. She's a rascal that one.

Gap toothed

2005-10-05T23:00:00.000+08:00

Alexis's other front incisor fell out in school today, during recess apparently. She says Rachel Heng went to her help. There was a little blood but she didn't cry.

That tooth, like the other one, had cavities on both sides of it! Tiny round holes, bored by bacteria into the enamel. Egads.

Anyway, I duly put $2 under the pillow as instructed. When the first incisor fell out last week, Jonathan asked if I would do it, as Alexis had made him swear not to. I think she wanted to prove there was no such thing as a tooth fairy. The next day, Isabel asked if I had put the money there. How do you know it wasn't the tooth fairy, I asked, thinking that my second child also had become wise to the world, like her older sister.

Tsk, replied Isabel. Of course it was YOU. The tooth fairy only comes for FIRST TEETH.

Hahahaha... I'm glad to know that we still have one child who believes in fairies and santa claus and whatnot.

Anyway, I am getting used to Alexis's gap-toothed grin, an echo of her adorable toothless baby smile.

Shutters are down in Block 106

2005-09-29T00:10:00.000+08:00

Walked past the neighbourhood shops as usual on my way to catch a cab to work this morning, and was so sad to see the doors pulled shut at our little market in Block 106. The shopkeepers in that block have opted to retire on the compensation that the government has offered if they don't want to continue. Business is not very good in the little enclave; I guess our few blocks in Sunset Way are not enough to sustain a living. But I'll miss them. Having lived here for more than five years now, I've become pretty familiar with the shopowners. I really liked nodding good morning to each and every one on my way to work in the mornings, even if I haven't had the time to patronise them much recently.

Funny to think how it doesn't seem at all long ago that this was our new home and we were getting to know the shops around us. Now we've lived here long enough that my memories of them are tinged with nostalgia. When the kids were little and we were at a loss for things to do, we would walk down to the animal clinics to check out the dogs and cats there, and then stop at the fish shop to admire the tanks and tanks of ornamental fish and frogs. Then we would stop at Balmoral Bakery to buy donuts covered with sugar sprinkles, or Grindelwald Supermarket for crackers or candy. The kids would always clamour for 20 cents to have a go on the kiddy ride outside G or the Food Lion. And before our spanking new food court came into being (wow, that was July 2004) all we had were a few hawker stalls where we could buy some wantan noodles for lunch (I still go to that stall, which has moved across the bridge to Ave 4) or prata for breakfast. Now they have all moved out to make way for the food court.

It's nothing fancy but I'm really fond of our sleepy neighbourhood. With the shops in Block 106 moving out by Dec 31, I wonder what will become of it? Would HDB rebuild it? Or will it stay empty and crumble to pieces?

Fever

2005-09-27T22:12:00.000+08:00

Isabel's been running a temperature hovering around 40 deg C for two days now. Of course thoughts of dengue crossed our minds but I can hear the congestion in her voice. She is also coughing, so I figure it must be the flu or something like it. I would make her wear repellent but that we've been sponging her frequently. I just hope it's not dengue.

Mainly because I can't imagine how she'd put up with having her blood taken every day. She's already mortally afraid of swallowing medicine, which is odd considering how easy going she was as a baby. It was always Alexis who had to be held down and forcibly fed her medication (which would then come up again along with the contents of her stomach, leading to another round of syringing it into her mouth, followed by more throwing up and so on until the whole block could hear her wails). Isabel on the other hand would swallow whatever was given her good-naturedly. But it's now reversed, with Alexis making much less of a fuss now whereas Isabel is this overwrought hysterical wreck.

It took her half an hour tonight to drink a teaspoon of neurofen, mixed in with an inch of orange squash plus a squirt of orange juice. Thirty minutes to sip it by millimetres with a glass of water next to her that she could gulp after each sip. Furthermore she would take close her eyes and take a deep calming breath before putting her lips to it. That one should be an actress when she grows up.

Happy Slidin's

2005-09-24T21:39:00.000+08:00

Two momentous things happened at Wild Wild Wet today. One, Isabel went with us on the Ular-Lah without hysterics -- at least, the second time around. I told her to laugh when she felt like screaming, and that's what she did, all the way down. Laughing loudly. I was so proud of her cos she was really really scared.

Then, Alexis nearly lost her front tooth. She knocked her mouth into her knee and there it was, dangling by a root. She would not let anyone near it though, so we'll have to wait for it to come out on its own. Meanwhile it protrudes from the gum at a crazy angle. Just one little tug and it'll come off...

Tonight we stayed home and watched two movies, Peter Pan, and Because of Winn Dixie, which was soppy but sweet enough. We had popcorn, and STILL the tooth stayed in...

Lazy Sunday

2005-09-11T21:43:00.000+08:00

School break's over, and as a fitting end to the week, we did not a damn thing today. It was one of those fitful, somewhat unsatisfactory days, when you feel out of sorts and not inclined to be productive at all. So we weren't. It didn't help that J and I had too much to drink last night at dinner with Mo and the Loks, and also that our inner ears are still screwed, probably waterlogged from snorkelling. The world continues to bob up and down like a boat; it's a most unsettling sensation. I contemplated takin Dramamine in the hopes that it would reset my sense of balance but commonsense prevailed.

Anyway, we had dinner with my parents and brother's family -- Teochew porridge at Cheong Chin Nam Road -- so the day was not a total bust. Isabel brought along for grandma the 60 cents she had earned yesterday selling baby notebooks that she'd made. She explained to me that she was giving grandma the money to help -- grandma had told her that she couldn't get a job because no one wanted to hire such an old lady. The kindness is typical of Isabel. Grandma was touched but she wouldn't take the money, so Isabel still has 60 cents to put to good use.

Back to Singapore -- and body parts

2005-09-09T02:00:00.000+08:00

Flew back to Singapore this morning. Drove around Seletar Airbase looking for Sunset Grill but wound up at the Kingfisher Pub instead. It turned out to be quite a find. Good and cheap food and a pool for use for $2, in a green and quiet location. Too bad it's all the way up north.

Speaking of up north, Redang was pretty good. We had some great snorkelling which the kids surprisingly got into. A far cry from Phi Phi three years ago, when they wouldn't even get off the boat. This time they got right into the water with bread for the fish, though Alexis gave up on feeding them when she got nibbled on the fingers. The Marine Park was simply teeming with fish (and snorkellers. There must have been 60 people in an area just 200 sq m). You hold out a slice of bread and they're swarming all around you to take bites out of it.

On another trip, we saw a magnificent sea turtle resting on the seabed in Keling Bay. It must have been close to five feet in length and was probably older than me, which might explain why it was extremely calm and didn't freak out even with half a dozen snorkellers gathered around it to ogle.

Getting into such beautiful waters with its abundant sea life after so many years, J decided he wouldn't sell his dive gear after all. As for me, I'm toying with the idea of doing a refresher. Still a coward about being in deep water but that marine life was irresistible.

We said goodbye to it on Friday morning and got back on board our 48-seat Dash. I also had the pleasure of going back to work in the afternoon. Around the same time that I got in the office, a cleaner in Orchard Park discovered a gym bag with a woman's head, arms, and legs in it. A few hours later, a jogger stumbled upon a trolley bag containing the torso in MacRitchie Reservoir. It was the story of the day, pushing dengue fever into the background.

Off to Redang

2005-09-05T00:00:00.000+08:00

Flew to Redang this morning from sleepy Seletar Airport, which is rather charming now because of its age. It's also where rich people park their private jets, we were reminded, by the burgundy Rolls Royce ahead of us. As it pulled to a stop at the front doors, four customs officials (or airport workers, but they were wearing uniforms) ran to lift the Louis Vitton suitcases from the boot. No one got out of the car.

So that's how the other half live. Our half sat outside the front door while we waited to check in to our Berjaya Air flight. Among our fellow passengers was a group of three families travelling together. They had packets of chicken rice, which they scarfed while I looked on enviously. Is there any food which is more redolent of a day out than packed chicken rice?? The women and children ate while the men smoked.

Then we were called to check in. A minor holdup because J's diving knife did not please the bag checker, who insisted it go with the crew. Fine. And then we were off to wait for our plane, a 48-seater turboprop Dash or thingabob. It didn't look anything like the lean mean sleek machine which we waited for to land before we took off. Bet it was carrying LV bags. Ours spewed water vapour from the aircon vents but hey, it sure beats a 10-hour drive to Terengganu.

Flight left 11.50am. Beautiful views over Terengganu, particularly Lake Kenyir (at least, we figure it had to be Lake Kenyir). Finally at 1.30, we came in to land over Redang. Appealing views of the beaches and resorts as we came in for the landing.
The resort was five mins away by bus. We sat in the front like good kiasu Singaporeans, but of course the rush was unnecessary since our room was not ready. Resolved not to let the minor hitches get to us and just to enjoy the place.

And what a place. The hotel is nothing to write home about: room is spacious but cleanliness is suspect, particularly the smelly pillows; staff are friendly but not always clued in, but the beach. My god. Talcum powder sand, clean clear water. You walk out from the hotel and there is instantly fish everywhere. Tiny baby reef tips nuzzling at the sand, schools of spotted snapper (I am guessing); at least half a dozen kinds of fish and we are still on the hotel beach.

We blew up our dinghy and rowed out, though not before J and I had a beer each while the children paddled in the water. They are thrilled by the fish, though Isabel feels safer out of the dinghy than in.

We had dinner at the hotel's only restaurant, Palms, which we are to know well in the next few days, since there is nearly nowhere else to eat that the children don't object to!

In bed early. Feels good to be on vacation.

Jitters

2005-09-03T12:39:00.000+08:00

Ok done. Now what?