This one’s for my pal D. Her dear sister is expecting a precious boy and she wanted something special for her new nephew. D is extremely trusting and brave, for she left it to me to make whatever I want (or rather, could).

I hope she likes this. Because I very much do.

The background is that A-gal bought a super karaoke set which was loaded with like a million Chinese oldies that none of us could sing. So being the savvy shopper she is, the old (but cool) sweatshop gang was invited to her house for a crooning session. So I made some Pico de Gallo and guacamole (if you haven’t tried it yet, the recipe is here. And believe me you’ll want to try it. Its liberating!), loaded a tonne of chips and sour cream in the trunk and off we went to A-gal’s.

Everyone was polite and dainty at first. And we stuffed our faces with chips and dips. Then we found out that the super karaoke set had a grading system.

That was when all hell broke loose. Especially when we found out (unfortunately) that the louder you are, the better your grades were.

So my pals went from singing..

To squeezing every ounce of breathe they had in their pathetically puny lungs.

It was loud. Really really loud.

A-gal’s domestic helper packed her bags and threatened to leave the house for good. A-gal’s dog dug a deep hole in the garden and flung himself inside. It was that scary.

But at least someone was happy with his performance.

You know, they say it never rains but storms… for a blardy good reason.

Life has been crazy these weeks, with company auditors whipping my arse and boxes waiting hungrily at home to be packed. Packing to move I can understand since it’s inevitable but which masochistic person invented this company auditing system anyway?

Back to packing. Oh gosh, where do I start. And I’m not even a hoarder in the first place.  It is a horrible, painful and back-breakingly tiring task. Except that I found some of these pretty crockery which once belonged to Grandma.
……… ok so I AM a hoarder. Happy?

But how can you throw away something as pretty as this?

or this?

or something as airy fairy as her?

I thought these were so cool too, in a kitschy but decent way.

I like old hand me downs because I like to imagine the stories behind them. Who used these before? Did granny throw parties then with these? What had she served in them? Who ate them? When? Where?

Seriously, who needs fine china and exquisite porcelein if you have these oldies that tells you stories as you eat. :)

It’s new! It’s exciting! It’s finally up! K-gal’s webshop has some of the most unique, interesting stuff out there. She has painstakingly taken many many months (or was it years K?) to scout for indie artisans around the world and their creations, and putting it together all by herself.  The end result is a delightful mix of fun, quirky, handmade-with-love crafts that you probably can’t find elsewhere.

Happy shopping!

It’s a combination of volleyball, football and music, played on a giant inflatable balloon and trampoline. A-gal does fancy gymnastic stuff so she totally loves it. Apparently anyone can play and you don’t need prior training. Just so long you don’t throw up on bouncy inflatables like me, and am not afraid of a flying ball coming at ya. Check it out here.

I think A-gal’s a natural at sports. She’s getting ready for..

a somersault…

then she does a cartwheel..

She can also do volleyball serves…

and she touches her toes on the trampoline..

just because she can!

Definitely a happy sports.

Well, well, look whose here, people! *swaggers into the room*

I am back! You must have missed me terribly, haven’t you?

Hello? hello?

Anybody out there??

Yooooohoooooooo…….

*crickets chirping*

Anyway, this trip to Shanghai had been quite amazing. I had the funnest time I ever had with the girls, ate the best pizza in Asia..

(the zagat rated Kitchen Salvatore Cuomo), and learnt more than I ever did in a short week. Shanghai charms like she always had, with her old..


and her new..

(a Gaudi wannabe?)

K-gal and I also found quite a few interesting indie designer shops at An Fu Road.

Among them this cute, whimsical cafe named after the owner’s daughter, Mia.

We visited the gallery when we had time..


before immersing ourselves in plotting for world domination.

Until I met him, who took my heart away…

But unfortunately, I couldn’t handle this amount of cuteness.
And so I ran back to..

where my heart really belongs.

One of the happiest news one can receive from a friend is that they are expecting a new life. Imagine my joy when I know my dear K-gal is baking a wee beanie! I decided to make a taggie blanket* for her even if I’ve never really sewn properly in my life. I have to say the expression on her was worth the hours of back bending, eye squinting, finger poking labour.




*The brightly coloured tags, or ribbons, around the blanket are suppose to provide tactile stimulation to the babies as they develop their sensors.
I would be writing a step by step instruction on how to make this blankie so watch this space!

Interesting name for a bike that’s so indiscreet. I wish he’ll lose the colour though. I usually like green but it just looks awful on automobiles & bikes.

I heard there is a sale at Mah Motors for those who are interested. Especially if you’re a hardcore Triumph fan like me Daddy.

We went back to the old hometown last weekend. Every trip back has always been an exhilarating one and this one is no different. Catching up with my folks over overflowing tables of food, I noticed that while some things are not the same anymore, there are others that have thankfully remained the same.

My favourite aunty for instance, has despite her age continued to deliver her mind blowing array of gastronomic delights. Every dish is painstakingly handmade herself, with every gram of food passing the most stringent of inspections. If there is a Malaccan version of Nigella, it has got to be her. Only better.

My run down kampong is still as run down. We ate half of our dinner in the dark and without ventilation, because the electricity had tripped. The staff in the restaurant were totally deadpan about it as well. I can only guess that we were considered lucky because at least we had lights and fans during the first half of dinner. Things like that would have put me off before but as I look back, it’s all but part of the charm of village life. It’s these uncertainties that made us thankful for the times when we had running water and food on the table.

As I watched my cousins’ kids playing with their own cousins, it dawned upon me that not so long ago (or at least it seems), that was me and my cousins. Every chance to get together was one precious opportunity for frolicking in the outdoors, with no recollection of responsibilities nor restrictions. I remember that holiday when we “harvested” vegetables, “cooked” them in a makeshift hawker cart, and forcing the rest to “buy” our culinary breakthrough. Good thing I was not evil enough then to force them to eat it as well.

I might now. :)

Thankfully I did not poison them then. How else could I witness such cute things that they fathered.

My brother loves to hold kids hostage.

Speaking of kids, they love us.

See, what did I tell you about kids loving us…

Aunty’s organic garden. Yum!

Bad Pitt and his retro but trusty C70.

Badgelina spotted in the kampong.

Once upon a time, men keep dogs so the dogs can work for men. Men can sleep in peace knowing that their dogs will keep them safe.

Evidently not anymore. My soul feels disturbed and unbalanced as I see this whilst I drag my weary body to work this morning.