Nasi Dagang , Star Wars Marathon and Urban Legend

Over the weekend the local cable station had a back-t0-back Star Wars marathon. I am not a fan. But my beloved and some of his friends were. He railroaded our friend with the largest TV to host a Star Wars martahon party at his house and we all went over to watch the Star Wars movie.

When I said "we" I meant the men, who during the duration of the 7 hours we were at that house. sat with eyes glued to the TV except breaks for solat, short walks to the buffet table and toilet breaks. The other "we," namely the womenfolk sat at the dinning table, ate and exchanged stories and gossip.

I managed to find a lady who makes delicious Nasi Dagang here and was overjoyed when I found out that she was willing to cook it for me. Yahooo! I ordered two sets, one to bring to the party and another set for me to keep at home which I had for dinner the following day.

It was still delicious the following day! I resteamed the rice and it was fabulous!

One of the current hot topics is about the possible existence of a certain "album" containing pictures of women who are interested in looking for a spouse. That bit wasn't that interesting. Rumour has it that THE album was shown and seen by certain MBAs. No not those with the Masters in Business, rather the Married but Available variety of men.

Rumour has it, some women have banned their husbands from going to the house where THE ALBUM is kept.

I for one, am tempted to approach the owner of the album myself, to ask to view it. Not that I am interested in looking for a wife, no. But rather to see if the album really exist or if it is merely an urban legend.

Another rumour has been confirmed as a fact. An MBA did marry wife no 2 here. Wife no 1 is back in Malaysia apparently oblivious to the new development in her husband. Everyone else remarked how wife no 1 was fair and pretty and didn't understand why wife no 2 was taken on board.

The man in question is one of those who was very quiet and looked very pious. Often seen with a kopiah on his head. Actually I don't think I have seen him sans his kopiah. Perhaps the white skullcaps cover the horns very well?

Oh well.

I have started asking around who would be interested in inheriting the steamer I bought in Pekan Rabu or the mortar and pestle (or is it pestle and mortar) I had bought in Saco. I never did use it except when MIL came to visit.

I still don't know if we are staying or moving. I have to start packing soon. I hate packing! But the last thing I want to happen is to find out that we are really moving and I havent packed a thing! I know I have way too much stuff, some I inherited from friends who left so its time I passed it on.

We ended the nite with making arrangements to meet again.

Good friends and good food makes a good insulation when living here. I think one of the things I would really miss most if we move is their company. If we don't move we'll continue to make plans for winter hopefully.


PS Thank you everyone for your comments and opinions. At the moment the status of my move is still "pending."

Am I ready to return?

For some, their hearts are always set to their homeland. Everyday they think about what they miss back home in Malaysia. And every holiday they look forward to returning to Malaysia. Even though their bodies are here, their spirits and their minds are still back in Malaysia.

Unfortunately I am one of those people who don't really fancy the idea of going back. Not at the moment anyways. Yes I do miss some of the family. (Although I have to confess that I don't mind being out of the loop from the family gossips and the latest misunderstanding etc.) And yes I do miss the food.

I can't believe I am saying this myself but I am beginning to like it here. More accurately, I like the life we lead here. I don't have to worry about going to weddings and kenduris. Most of my time is our own, we're not tied down to taking to attend family functions etc. I guess its not just the life here but generally life abroad.

I like the fact that we could travel and of course it helps that we have a bigger disposable income here. For me there is a balance between the amount we could spend and the amount we could save.

Luckily for me my dearest share my passion for travel and seeing and trying new things. I would be so devastated if all he ever want to do is return to Malaysia for holidays. We do like to go to different places ever so often.

So he puts forward to me the possibility of returning back to The Homeland and suddenly I get a little bit sweaty. For me I had always envisioned that we would return when its time to retire. Or at least we would return after we have finished paying off all our debts, have a well cushioned retirement plan.

But of course things change a little bit since we have The Little One. Suddenly we realize the value of living near The Family so both parties could get to know each other better. Also it would be more beneficial for The Little One to know more about traditions and her cultural background. Something which I am not very big on. I know very little about cultural believes and in fact sometimes believe very little in them. (Like pantang larang lepas bersalin etc. I was at the supermarket 5 days after delivering the baby.) But I do realize its important for The Little One to see some of that for herself because its part of her cultural identity and it will be up to her in the future to decide if she would like to keep them or not.

And I guess the other thing is, for me, if or when we return, its means that we are settling down. And settling down is something that I am uncertain if I am ready for. We've been travelling for the last 9 years and I like the adventure of living abroad.

I suppose what it is, is more change. Change in lifestyle. Change in income. Change in responsibilities. Naturally I am somewhat apprehensive to this sort change.

I already lost my mum while we were on the road. Perhaps going back now will be good so The Little One could spend more time with her remaining grandparents, uncles and aunties.

Funnily enough I would have to relearn the Malaysian way of doing things if we go back. Perhaps it is time?

In search of a better life II

A man often sometimes chooses to come here for a job stint sans family because sometimes:

1)his wife does not want to uproot herself and live in a foreign land
2)his children are going to good schools and he refuses to "disrupt" their education
3)his job does not allow for a family visa, the company wants to save some money
4) . . .

Somehow this story really depresses me. A guy had been working here for awhile, alone without his fmaily. He finally completed his contract and went home to spend time with his family.

Five days after he returned home, his five year old son passed away.

Of course I believe in predestination and destiny.

But I often wonder, how worthwhile is it for a family to be split apart for the sake of economy?

I guess for the likes of us who have enough to eat everyday, it is an issue to be pondered and debated upon.

But for those who didn't have the luxury of choice, who did it out of neccessity, what would you do?

In search of a better life I

Our waiter asked us how old The Little One was.

"Fifteen months," we told him.

How quickly time flies. She was a month old when we first brought her with us to the restaurant.

We asked him if he had any children.

"A girl," he told us. "She's fourteen now. She lives all by herself in the Ph/ll/p/nes."

All by herself at fourteen?

"Yes her mum is working here with me as a nurse. We thought that by working here for a few years we could provide her a better future. "

"With the salaries we earn here, we could afford to send her a much better school."

Obviously the sacrifice is that their teenage daughter is growing up without her parents.

Not all expats get a cushiony package. But almost all come with hope to get a better life for their loved ones, one way or other.

Decisions, decisions, decisions

Uncertainty is one word I could use to describe my current situation. Will we stay or do we move on?

If we do move on where will we be going? There was hope that it was to be Ireland. Then there was promise of Tehran. And then there's the possibility of Bahrain. Or back to the UK. Or home to KL/Singapore. Or we could stay here.

If push comes to shove, if we do move, I will. If we have to move every few months, I will.

For the longest time, I had everything I had with me in 2 suitcases. Then we had 2 mugs, 2 plates, 2 sets of cutlery and a saucepan that travelled with me. And then I thought, I was tired of living that way. I thought, finally, I wanted to live in a place that really felt like home. We got a proper dinnerware, real cutlery, that sort of thing.

Now that I had gotten some furniture from Ikea, got the carpenter to repair the shoe cupboard and hang up our family portrait, there is a possibility of moving again.

The story of my life really. We move whenever I form roots. So much so sometimes I do refrain from making friends.

All I ask is that Allah put us where ever he thinks is good for us. A place where we can grow and be happy.

Pardon me if this space will be unattended for awhile. I'm trying to make some sort of order in my world of uncertainty.

But one thing I am certain, change is inevitable and it will be good for me.

A new venture

If you asked me 10 years ago, what I would be doing in 10 years time, perhaps I would have said "Teacher" but I wouldn't have thought that I'd be a quilting teacher.

After many requests for me to have quilting class, I finally became brave enough to take the plunge. I had five students whom I charged 50 bucks each. Actually I thought that perhaps charging them 50 bucks per class might be too expensive but somehow I'm finding that I am merely breaking even in terms of operating cost.

The maid costs 15 bucks per hour, for 5 hours thats 75 bucks. I bought some snacks etc costing 65 bucks. So I made a cool 140 bucks for 5 hours of teaching and conversation. As you can tell, I won't exactly become rich doing this.

More importantly the company was fabulous. We caught up with some gossip and updates. If anything I am happy to pass on the joy of learning a new skill to the ladies. I hope they feel the same about coming to my home to learn.

Perhaps one day I'd have my own quilt shop selling fabrics, notions and everything else. Not many people make real money from selling the quilts themselves, because they do require a lot of time and effort and when you're competing against mass produced ones, theirs would be a lot cheaper no doubt. Unless I become really famous and produce my own quilt books or people will pay me big money to come and do a demonstration.

But who knows what tomorrow will bring?

I feel for her

Out of the blue we managed to talk again. Its been awhile but I know I’ve been terrible at keeping in touch.

But things haven’t been too good for her. She is still with HIM. Its her choice and its not up to me to judge. We all, individually, make our own decisions based on what we think works for us.

She has 3 young girls. Its not easy starting over with 3 young girls. I know some have done it but not everyone is as brave.

He promised to end things with the other woman. And she took his word for it.

Suffice to say, she found out later on that he actually married that woman across the border. He said he felt responsible for the other HER.

She says that she is happy that he is working abroad, out of the picture, and that he would send money every month to her bank account.

If I could talk to her again, I would ask her if she is happy with her life. I know she sticks with him because she thinks he makes her happy. Does she realize that he is the source of her grief? Does he realize that he is the source of her depression?

Personally, I don’t see why she would stay with someone who is controlling, who treats her like a door mat, who causes her grief and depression.

But I do understand why she stays with him. Because the children need their father and because it’s harder to start over looking for love.

Not many men will be interested in starting life with a 30 something woman with 3 young children.

He has systematically shaved down her feeling of self worth, her self esteem, her circle of friends, the support of family members and the exuberance she once had. He made her dependent on him. He made himself the center of the world, and she could not see the sunlight beyond his shadow.

Sometimes I feel like shaking her, asking her, why? Why do you do this to yourself? Why do you let him do this to you? And what do you think your children will get out of this?

But I know she is too fragile for those questions.

I do admire her steadfast nature and the love she has for her children.

If you are reading this, I want you to know, as a friend, I only want you to be happy. I’m not trying to jeer you or alienate you. Its not my place to judge you.

Instead I want to encourage you to make a better life for yourself and your girls. They are all that you have and they learn everything by watching what you do and how you deal with this crisis in your life.

Do not give let him control your lives. Love yourself more. You know you deserve all the love that you need and you don’t need that love from him. You can get it from you.

But the girls will need the love from you.

Take care of yourself and take this down time to take stock of your life. Your future is in your hands. The future of your girls are in your hands. Reclaim back that power before its to late.

What would you say to her?

How quickly time flies

As the weather gets warmer and summer draws near, we often lose a few friends we've made. I made this quilt for Hassania last summer and this June will mark one year of her going home.

Just last Wednesday we drove 4 hours for the oppurtunity to meet with C & J before J flies off back to Australia the following day. At first I thought we'd meet again because she thought she'll be here till July but she decided that she isn't coming back.

For J, the 6 of us swapped blogs and promised to sew our quilts and show each other the pictures. I finished mine in time but yet to see the other blocks for me to piece them together.

J has always been an inspiration to me. I can remember the day we met as if it was yesterday. She had just moved into the compound and had shown up for the quilting class. She was very friendly and told us that she was homeschooling her children. In turn we told her about another lady in the compound who was also homeschooling and they hooked up.

J would invite me to her house to teach us how to make bread. I remember that afternoon just like yesterday. I was pregnant then, so I waddled over to her place. The ladies gave me the cushiest chair to sit on while they made hot cross buns, bagels and pseudo chinese buns.

When I wanted to try to make some bread with her recipe (I said I but my beloved made the bread really while I watched) we borrowed her breadmachine.

And then there were her entrepreneurship. She had hooked up with K to make all sorts of crafts from cards to giftbags, placemats, oven mitts and chocolates to sell.

As J's farewell present to me, she gave me her breadmachine which still sits in the plastic bag she gave me in. That with some bread improver.

Already, I know S will be going back to the States this summer. Who else is next?

And it is inevitable that we will leave one day too. The difficult bit about leading this life for me is the constant packing and unpacking and the hellos and goodbyes to friends we made. The longer the roots, the harder it is to uproot.

The older I get, the more baggage I have, the harder it becomes to move. Now there are other considerations to consider; will there be good schools? a playground or a park for The Little One to play? is the city kiddie friendly?

If anything else, I know this much is true. I know we are adaptable people, the fact that we managed to get comfortable here meant that we could make ourselves comfortable anywhere. I know we can make new friends wherever we move, some we're still in touch with while others we know are somewhere about. We will take advantage of whatever is available where ever we may go.

Most importantly, we're together, supporting each other.

Strawberry Pajeri

Its amazing how some bloggers have inspired me in so many ways.

I was reading Anasalwa's entry about Kumquat Pajeri that I had this urge to try some. I was looking around at the fruits available in Carrefour the following day for me to make Pajeri but didn't see any kumquat. Since Ana's Kak N had made Kiwi Fruit Pajeri, I thought perhaps its possible to make Strawberry Pajeri. Afterall they were on sale for $3.50 a punnet. What made the strawberried perfect Pajeri candidate was that there were rather sharp.

Growing up, the pajeri I ever tried was only Pajeri Nenas and they were somewhat watery, and didn't quite look like Ana's Pajeri. In fact, I think coming from the South, we call it Paceri rather than Pajeri.

I used Ana's recipe as a guide and looked at other Pajeri recipes on recipe.net.





And Wallah! Here's my Pajeri strawberry. My skeptical other half was rather amused with what I served him that day. And his comment, it was better than he thought it was going to be.

Thanks AnaSalwa for inspiring me to try out new things.

Next thing I want to try is Nina's Beef in Sweet Betel Leaves. I have been looking out for the Betel Leaves but no luck so far. Perhaps I'd need to grow them myself.

One night in Madinah and one hour in Rawdah

The drive was 8 hours. We left at 6:30 am, half an hour later than promised. The drive was beautiful, our fellow travellers had packed us cake, sandwiches and toasted cheese. We did stop for nasi lemak at a 10 riyal an hour room. No, they didn't sell Nasi Lemak there silly! We packed our own and ate it there, behind the petrol station in the middle of no where. At least the toilet was marginally clean.

We arrived just before Asar. I realized its been two years since I was here last. Because it was the weekend, finding parking was difficult. I had to forgo Asar prayer at Masjidil Nabawi because I needed to change my clothes.

If I had forgotten, the little one somehow made me remember that life is somewhat a little different when I travel with her. For example, mummy should have remembered to change her diapers when we were at the pit stop. Yes I was a bad mummy and I did forget to change. As a result her nappy leaked. All over her and all over me. And when travelling with a child, its an infinite number of extra clothes you need to bring, not just for her but for you too! Luckily I had brought a spare Abaya. The other clothes I brought were meant to be worn under an abaya! Not suitable for err public places.

Thank God for understanding and helpful travel companions. At least one lady who had her red flag could babysit the Little One for Magrib and Isyak. Perhaps I should have brought her to the masjid. But she does get quite alarmed and cries. Me, getting distracted is one thing but I didn't want other people to be distracted too. Perhaps next time Insyallah.

The next morning I arranged with another lady to go to Rawdah. They are open to women from 7 to 10 am. 3 hours for the ladies. At the door, ladyguards checked our bags for contraband. The lady in front of me was frisked. Phones must be turned off and no camera phones allowed. We followed the crowd towards Rawdah.

The last time I was there, it was a weekday and there were a lot less people. Today however, there was a blanket of black. Partly because the umrah visas have not been issued yet and partly because its Friday morning. The local crowd is around.

Making one's way to the front is a tricky task. Women are everywhere, at every available space. Some reading the Quran, some praying, some kneeling and some standing. Others like us, just finding space to solat. Even that is no easy task. There were women walking past you, walking on top of you and some pushing past you. Well what do you expect? Everyone want to go to paradise, don't they? Or at least the ladies who were there wanted that. Including me.

We found a spot to perform the tahyatul masjid. The crowd in front seems to be going home but more are coming. I decided to make my way to the front. With Bismillah, lots of patience and guts to step over people and squeezing into whatever small space available to move forward I got there.

Mother-In-Law had told me where the posts that marked Rawdah was when we came two years earlier. In my ignorance then, I didn't understand why she insist on moving forward to pray. Surely Allah can hear us praying both from the front to the back of the Masjid and even anywhere for that matter? But she explained that since we wanted to pray in Rawdah then in Rawdah we should be.

After much waiting, I was there at the posts. There was no room to kneel or to sit. Standing room only. And all I could do was to start my du'a. It was emotional for me. Don't ask me why but it was. Perhaps how hard it was to get there was one of the factors.

Then I heard a voice calling, "Siti Rahmah! Siti Rahmah!"

Surely it isn't me.

"Solah! Solah!"

I looked to the right. One of the lady guards was trying to tell me that there was room for me to perform my solat! I moved a little to the right. And she put me in position. Without much thinking, I plonked my bag down and started praying.

Finally there was space for me! Now looking back I would think of 10 other solats I could have done! But even with the tiny space concentration was difficult. The moving around. The pushing around. The story of my life really! I should have planned this much better! I should have concentrated more on what I was doing instead of getting side tracked by my surrounding. Instead the "considerate" old me decided not to hog the space and move on to the oppurtunity to someone else, with hope that I would have the chance to pray there again in the future. Perhaps many more times in the future. Or better still, claim my own permanent spot in eternity in the Jannah.

Walking away was more difficult than getting in because people are starting to stream in again. I bid my farewell to the Prophet.

After breakfast it was a mad rush to drive back. We had a hard time getting to a gas station because they were all closed in preparation for the Friday prayers. What we forgot was that every single person (we think) working there were Muslim, unlike over here in the capital where there are non Muslims who man the pumps up to the point of prayer call. In Madinah, they have all gone home to take their shower and wear their Friday best to the Masjid.

Goodbye Madinah, till next time Insyallah.

Deadline looming

Who would have thought that quilters would have deadline?

Its all my fault really, I signed up to do one friendship quilt and another farewell quilt. One required 20 blocks and the other 6 blocks. I finished the latter but still working steadfastly on the earlier one. And it hasn't been easy. I have sewn 25 blocks in all and had to reject 10 and in turn need 5 more.

And what was I thinking signing up to be in the Guild board? And as Secretary no less? I have many minutes untyped and yet another meeting to go for this week!

Pardon me if I take time off from blogging. Either the solar flares render my internet connection useless or I am sewing furiously to meet my deadline or have many women upset at me!

Untuk si Gersang

Di mana kau letak harga diri?
Bermanja dengan lelaki-lelaki bergelar suami.
Kau ghairah menonjolkan diri
Pada mana lelaki yang kau mahu miliki

Pada si isteri kau katakan
Lelaki boleh berkawin empat

Apa yang kau cari?
Kasi sayang?
Nama?
Wang?
Kuasa?
Perhatian?

Banyak mata memandang
Hanya diam
Tidak sanggup berlaku tidak sopan
Tak kuasa hendak bertekak
Yang ada hanya buat pekak

Kau jaja dirimu begitu mudah
Pada siapa sahaja yang kau sangka
Dapat memberimu perhatian
Tanpa malu atau segan
Padahal manusia ada batasan

Sedarlah sendiri
Senja menanti ke malam hari
Jangan hanya mengejar bayang-bayang
Yang akan hilang tanpa pesan

Who's keeping track?

I find the conversation people strike with me really odd sometimes. Is it because they have nothing to talk about or are they just trying to make polite conversation? But it really irks me when someone asks me about somebody else.

"Is so-and-so going for holiday? How long is she going?"

Why ask me? Why not ask her directly?

More annoying most recently I was asked, " I had this conversation this other lady and she was asking if SO-n-SO does not want a child or cannot have a child?"

Why ask me? Why not ask the So-n-SO herself? Why is the other lady asking you and you in turn ask me? Why does she need to know? And plus what is it anyone's bussiness asking all that? What is it to the person asking if the other goes on vacation? What is it to other people if some people don't have children? Is it really any of their business asking? And why am I being involved in all this?

Perhaps I am overly sensitive but perhaps the way the questions are asked made me stand on guard. Because I am asked all these questions about other people, I wonder if they ask other people the same questions about me?

I feel that I am interrogated. I feel like every move I make is being taken note of. I feel that they want a report of my movement. Where I went. What I did. With whom I went with or did it with.

And my first impulse is to run. Run as far away as I can from my interrogators.

Of course in turn I am labelled a snob. Whatever!

I can't live my life on eggshells because I don't want to offend people. So what if they are offended. SO what if I am labelled hermit or outcast.

I will live my life the way I want to and I'll invite people whom I want to hang around with or omit people I cannot stand or cannot understand without guilt.

Feeling wretched

I have been feeling somewhat down and a little overwhelmed for over a week now. First was the shooting of the 4 Fr3nchm3n. Not that I knew them personally. But living in this small community of expats, its inevitable that someone knew someone who does.

I found out about the shooting at 8:45 am on Tuesday morning. I had gotten up early, took my shower and got ready to catch the 11 am bus to go for the annual cultural festival. At 845 am the phone rang. It was the receptionist telling me that the bus to the festival was cancelled due to the shooting. What shooting? I hadn't watch the news the night before. I called a few friends asking if they heard anything and they in turn called a few friends asking if they had heard anything. Finally between us we found some pieces to the jigsaw puzzle. News were sketchy.

I didn't get to go to the Annual cultural festival. I was somewhat disappointed. Perhaps I will have next year. Perhaps.

The following day I noticed that there were a lot of people next door. The B3lgians who live there had gone on the same trip to the historic ruins with the men who were shot. The difference was my neighbours came home safely but their friends didn't.

While washing my dishes suddenly I saw all their children walking out of the house.

And all of them were crying. Some were consoling each other, some were just crying alone.

I didn't know what to do.

When I peeked at the front window I saw the mother was crying outside too.

Apparently they had all just found out that the 16 year old boy had just passed away. He succumbed to his injuries.

One day they were having fun, the next, their friend had died.

-----------------------------------------------

Over the weekend, we went to the Iris fields again. This trip had been planned for some time now. Concerned friends who knew I was going called me and cautioned me against going. Apparently most of the Western embassies have issued a warning against their citizens going to the desert. Even one of our friends have decided not to go. Apparently the Ministry of Foreign Affairs here have released a statement cautioning diplomats from travelling to the desert.

We however decided to go. Undettered by terrorist threats, five cars took the journey to Tuma/r. Only to face a terrible sandstorm. Even the shepherds were taking their herd away from the Iris field. the sandstorm was hitting Tuma/r in full force. Did we turn back? No no! the show must go on!

We parked the cars in such a way we thought would reduce the brute force of the wind. I was sooooo hungry that despite the sand that was everywhere and was getting into everything I insist that we took out some of our food. First we distributed the ice cream, then the chicken wings. After we found that the sand didn't quite change the taste of the ice cream or the chicken wings, we took out all the other food and started eating.

When it was time for us to watch the flowers bloom, I felt somewhat faint and decided to sit in the car instead of waiting for them to bloom. A drink of water and some air conditioner made me a little better. I went out to see the flowers again. tried to take some pictures but this time my camera jammed. The sand had somehow got in the lenses and jammed them. *sigh* It was just not meant to be.

We then adjourned at R's house.

Perhaps the weather was mourning for the men who were slain. Never underestimate the desert.

-------------------------------------------

News about the passing of Nazrah's mum spread quite quickly. I got a ym message from CK and then an SMS from Elisa. Tried sending Nazrah an SMS but not sure if she received it.

I know too well how it felt like losing a mother. I had to help arrange her funeral. Its been awhile but its one of those things that you'll never forget. Somehow the news made me recalls details about the funeral arrangements.

I wish her well and hope she has the strength to go through the days ahead.


------------------------------------------

I have 2 sets of blocks I have to finish by this weekend. Argghh friendship blocks are meant to be fun and full of happy memories but I am beginning to really hate this excercise. Triangles drive me crazy!

My whole body is aching and my mind exhausted. My time table is full.

Are we staying or are we going?

Frankly I don't mind it either way. All I ask is that Allah give us whatever it is that is the best for us. I accept that Allah knows best and what he decides is the best for me. Sometimes its a test, sometimes the goodness is only seen in hindsight.

In the meantime, I will exercise my freewill to make the best out of my situation.

Iris field of Tuma?r

Last Thursday we drove out 1.5 hrs out of R]yadh to Tuma/r to witness the Irises bloom during mid-afternoon.



Would you have thought that the Desert could be this green? Well spring is here, after a cold winter and lots of rain, there is a lot of green.


When we first arrived all we saw were bits of purple. We had our lunch and then saw some activity amongst the flower. At about 1 pm, the petals were slowly unfolding. We all stood up, gathered near the areas where there were lots of buds and stood or sat waiting to watch for the Iris to bloom.


And then suddenly the petals opened up, releasing a beautiful smell in the air.


As you can see, the little one is excited too! She was happy to pick on some of the flowers.




I know this picture doesn't do the place justice, but suddenly, there was a sea of purple patches!


Here the Irises are in full bloom. As you can see, the flowers are up to 2 year-old Ray's knees.

Would you believe that Irises grow in the wild in the desert if you didn't see these pictures? I wouldn't have.

These flowers bloom during this time of the year for about a month before they wither and perish under the scorching heat in the desert.

Masyallah! Many praises to Allah for the beautiful world he has created for us.

Thank you

Thank you for your comments, Lollies, Anasalwa, Ann and Mel Ija.

Anasalwa, at the moment I am working on two friendship blocks, boring things really, a basket block and a Mellinium block. Trouble is I have a deadline and the deadline is looming fast. Out of 20 blocks I sew I had to reject 10 because they didn't come to exactly 6.5" blocks. If it was my own quilt I would have used them but since I am handing them over to other people I had to make sure that they are precise. But I will try to put them up sometime. But I am just a little embarrased that mine are boring blocks rather than your lovely artistic ones.

Lollies, Ann and Mel Ija I hope you guys get your battery recharged too. Mel Ija perhaps if I could visit your blog sometime it would be nice.

Atenah, yes I do realised that I have been tagged. I've been trying to write it out but failed miserably. The problem is because what I would consider normal is what others might call weird. I had listed some down and decided that I was anal retentive, not weird LOL. See I ended up psycho analysying myself and therefore render me unable to complete the task. Haha. I will but the tag in my IN box and get round to doing it sometime.

I have 2 entries i hope to post the next few days:
1. Pajeri strawberry (inspired by Anasalwa's pajeri kumquat)
2. Trip to the Iris fields

I have a baby protesting that I am typing in front of the pc. Hopefully I get some free time soon.

Of dreams and guilt

I had an odd dream last night. I dreamed that my teacher gave us the exam paper in advance, told us to take it home, go through it and we will sit for the same paper again after the weekend. In my dream I was anxious to have a group discussion on how best to answer the questions. But my friends were reluctant to have the group meet with me. They told me that it was a mock exam, the paper was last year's paper and the exam will be at a later date. I was tired an disappointed. The following day, instead of tackling the questions I called up my friend Rosse and asked her how she was.

I have been wandering how Rosse is doing. Hope she is doing OK.

I related my dream to my beloved. He pointed out that perhaps I am re-examining my life.

And its true, I have. I am pondering at the possibility of moving again. If we move, we move, I should have no fear, we used to do it every 8 months or so. But we haven't heard any news. Just wait and see.

Two days ago, I felt insanely guilty. I felt guilty because I sent AM out to play with the housekeeper. They went to the underground skate park to play while I quilt whilst watching them on the CCTV. I should be there playing with her myself but I needed some time to quilt.

Quilting is therepeutic for me. Makes me use my mind, my creativity, my hordes of fabric and my new sewing machine. I had a quilt guild meeting that evening hence the last minute sewing to bring my blocks in.

Its terrible feeling stuck and guilty. When I quilt, I feel guilty that I am not spending time with her, not stimulating her, not creating a new memory or recreating an old memory.

But when I am with her, I feel frustrated that I could not quilt.

But I had to remind myself that when I am with her I would give her 100% of my attention, and when I am quilting I would concentrate to avoid mistakes. Her mum needs to tend to some of her personal needs and personal growth. Only then she'd be a better mother.

Cake

Unlike other domestic godessess who baked their child's first birthday cake, I, Sunflora, took the easy way out, by ordering the birthday cake from our favourite bakery. Another testimony of how terrible I am, I organized the party 1.5 months later, with no clowns nor balloons and not that many little children either. Just some of our friends who already gave her presies, as a thank you to them for remembering her birthday.

But isn't it amazing how technology has evolved even in the cake making industry? We can now have real life like pictures on cakes? What ever next?

What did I give her? A book that made me cry when I read it to her.

May you gain a lifelong love for books and an incessant thirst for knowledge. May you have the tenacity and perserevance to make your dreams come true.

Know that you are so loved and will always be loved by everyone around you.

Cemana?

Kesian Akak ni. Dia sebenarnya menang lucky draw di shopping center berdekatan dengan rumahnya. Hadiahnya adalah sebijik kereta BMW. Dia di beritahu yang dialah pemenang kereta tersebut. Tapi lepas 4 bulan kereta tak muncul tiba. Rupanya tuan punya shopping center tu tipu. Kereta tersebut tak bayar pun pada dealer.

Akhirnya Chamber of Commerce di sana pun tolong. Inilah dia upucara penyampaian kunci. Untuk menampakkan kelainan skit dia belilah tudung cantik. Warna tetap hitam, tapi kurang-kurangnya nampaklah kerawang-kerawang lace. Sure mahal tudung ni, yerlah nak ambil BMW yang berharga RM134,000.

Tapi cemana dia nak bawak keta dengan muka tertutup camtu? Oooo lupa plak, kat negri ni orang pompuan takleh bawak keta. Yerlahh takut mendatangkan maksiat kalau pompuan bawak keta nanti.

Kiranya cukup bagus gaklah depa kasi kat dia kunci kereta tu. Boleh lah dia jual ke, bagi hadiah kat suami dia ke atau adik lelaki dia ke, bapak dia ke, anak lelaki dia ke. Sekurang-kurangnya kalau dia jual pun leh dapat duit kan. Sedihlah kalau ade keta best-best tapi takleh bawak sendiri, kene amik supir dari luar negeri untuk bawak keta tu. Sedaplah supir tu nanti.

Pelik kat sini pompuan takleh bawak keta sendiri. Tapi pompuan leh duduk belakang supir atau taxi driver duk depan.


Tahniah akak dapat keta sebijik, walaupun takleh bawak sendiri tapi dapat juga keta tu!

The Little One is Sick

In fact we all are. Down with fever, flu and cough. The Doctor told us that it was a viral infection. The Little One is clingy, wants to be breastfed all the time, refuses any food. When she suddenly has a burst of energy, she is considerably chatty and points outside. She wants to go out. To the play grond. To the play park.

But what's more difficult for me is when I am sick myself and at the same time, having to look after her. Looks like my beloved is falling sick as well.

Hope we all get better soon!