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There’s a lot of poetry outdoors. I noticed this as I was taking a brisk walk with my ma around her neighborhood one morning. We found many flamboyant trees at the park, which excited my ma. She called them semarak api, which beautifully translates into “heaps of fire.” I thought the name really suited them. The flowers were fierce in color— all scarlet with smatterings of blood-orange. When in full bloom, they’d appear on fire if seen from a distance. The trees brought her back to the time when she was a child growing up in the rubber estate. The buds contained mouthful of liquid before becoming flowers. With imagination, my ma and her childhood friends turned them into water guns. I thought the story was fascinating— children in the past (or living in the countryside) would cleverly hook nature into their little games. Perhaps one day, I hope to teach my children this simple game crafted by their grandmother.
One of my family’s traditions for birthdays is to hold a dinner gathering with our partners invited. I had mine at Latest Recipe, a fancy hotel resto with my ma, sister, her man and my better half (who “serendipitiously” as he called it, wore baby blue tie that matched the blouse I was wearing). That moment was my favorite. We had lively conversations at the dinner table over good food (the teriyaki meat was, to say the least, divine). I look forward to being a year older and spending more good times like this with those I love.
My ma was twenty-eight years young when she welcomed me into the world. I’m that age today. And twenty-eight looks incredible from hereon. God bless, and cheers for more years to come.
At seventy-five, my grandma is still a one fine trouper. Today I caught her scrubbing and arranging in my ma’s kitchen. When I offered help, she testily refused and said she could manage (such a “grandmother” thing to do). I just stood in the kitchen, admiring her labor. The space was spick and span. Every single jar, bottle, plate and shaker was in order. And we all had grandma to thank for, as she did all that out of love (and perhaps, out of a little ennui too).
My grandma has been staying at my ma's place for the past couple of weeks. She lives in Johore, but she often takes a train ride to Kuala Lumpur so that she could visit us. I’ve been visiting her at home every weekend, and her presence has brought more jouissance in the house. We just love watching her dramatizing each memory that she recollects from her distant past (she’s a natural thespian). She also tends the garden very well, and insists upon cooking every single meal for us. I’m grateful for every moment I get to see her and listen to her stories.
This carrot cake was the highlight of my day, baked thoughtfully by my teenage cousin A. It had walnuts and a fair bit of mashed bananas too. She could open a mini bakery if she wanted to.
I'm so proud of my sister's Motown performance tonight over at the academy she attends. The girl can sing, in my most humble, neutral-ish opinion. She stands second from the left in this photograph.
I spent one quiet afternoon shopping for herbs with my grandma. We discovered this little nursery off the highway that grows more herbs than flowers. Oregano, thyme, sweet basil, rosemary— you name them. I was delighted to see these greens blooming in those tiny pots. They were the fresh version of those dried McCormick ones that I use in the kitchen. Having my grandma around was helpful. The lady has green fingers and grows a fine garden at her home. Together, we picked the best chilli, rosemary, parsley, mint, tarragon and marigolds to live and grow in my balcony herb garden.
