Chillies galore!

Our garden is making very slow progress. But just to earn some brownie points, let me show you how well our chilli plant is thriving...


For such a small bush, it certainly yielded quite a crop!

I think I need to learn how to prune the bush, because it seems to be growing more outwards and upwards... which makes the plant rather short and 'fat', and a lot of chillies are fruiting on the underside of the plant.

Will throw in some of the chillies in our lunch and let you know how it tastes.

Learning to understand how God feels sometimes

I haven’t updated you guys about Mishu in a while. So I think that dusty corner of my Mishu posts needs a little visit.

Mishu is doing fairly okay, but he’s acting up a bit in his behaviour. It started when the vet put him on a follow up round of antibiotic treatments just to make sure the infection he had is fully cleared.

We usually put the tablet with a little bit food in his bowl, then hubby coaxes him to swallow it to make sure he eats it, then rewards him by topping up his bowl with the rest of his food.

However all of a sudden one day, Mishu decided to go on strike and refused to eat any food at all, as if in protest against eating any more of the antibiotics. We tried different ways of coaxing and ‘tricking’ him to eat it, and it got so bad that he refused to eat any food at all even when we stopped putting tablets in it.

He went almost three days without food, except for a small bite here and there when we tried to coax him to eat a small teaspoonful here and there. He was being a bad cat. A very bad cat indeed.

Upon consulting the vet, we switched to feeding him dry food only (we were feeding him mainly wet food before) and had to resort to pushing the tablet down the back of his tongue, and holding his mouth shut until he swallowed.

Hubby had the unpleasant task of being the medicine-giver, because he didn’t want me to get hurt or bitten in case Mishu acted up. Turns out Mishu was pretty gentle, and not aggressive at all, though he sometimes does struggle a bit (it’s quite funny to watch sometimes) but you know he definitely hates medicine time. We all had to endure 10 days of antibiotics, twice a day all throughout.

Unfortunately, Mishu started to develop a nervousness and apprehension toward hubs as the medicine-giver. It was very sad, especially for hubs. Everytime hubs walked into the room where Mishu was, Mishu would crouch very still on his cushion and refuse to budge from it. He would no longer play with hubs and even waited until hubs left the room before he ate any food hubs placed in his bowl.

With me, he was still meow-ee, affectionate and playful… even though I would never give him food, because we wanted to be clear of our respective roles. I can tell it’s quite hurtful for hubs, but he still tries his best to be affectionate in his petting and tummy rubs to Mishu. He still seems to dread the possibility of medicine time whenever hubs approached him.

Of course poor Mishu is only a cat, and as much as we try to explain to him that the antibiotics were for his own good and that we dislike giving it him as much as he disliked taking it, he just can’t understand and never will.

He is slowly getting round his distrust toward hubs, but it’s a painfully slow process, for cats are less forgiving than dogs. It takes a lot more to drive away a dog’s love and affection towards you. But cats seem to hold on to grudges for much longer.

I remarked to hubs that what Mishu is doing might be how our own kid might behave towards us someday (although we pray and hope not). We can love them and provide for them and do everything we can for them, but they might respond in ungratefulness instead. We can’t control that.

Perhaps this is how God feels about us sometimes.

Appreciating the melancholic songs of Elvis

It was Fathers’ Day in Malaysia/Singapore yesterday. I only realised on Saturday night after I hung up the phone, and my hubs was pondering what the occasion for my parents call was. Then it dawned on him, and then me.

Fathers’ Day in Australia is not celebrated until September. Usually this means I send my dad two Fathers’ Day greetings a year. But unfortunately this year, I was a little distracted.

Anyway, better late than never. Here is a special blog post dedicated to a special man… something I’ve been already thinking about and saving up to blog about anyway, and not something I’ve scrambled together at the last minute.

So lately I’ve been listening to a lot of Elvis Presley.

…Jailhouse Rock

…Hound Dog

…Heartbreak Hotel

A great way to chirk me up at work if the task is pretty dull.

Listening to Elvis brings up childhood memories of my brothers and I dancing madly around the house to Elvis Presley’s ‘Jailhouse Rock’ or ‘Hound Dog’ blaring loudly on the stereo, clutching badminton rackets to emulate the guitar while we sang.

It also makes me think of my dad. Not that Elvis was my dad’s absolute favourite singer. He has so many favourites now I think he will find it hard to pick one. But it’s one of the earliest singers I remember him indicating as a favourite. He would tell us about how popular Elvis ‘The King of Rock’ was back in his days, how all the kids back then tried to style their hair ala Elvis, and about the sad, sad life that Elvis led. In fact my uncle even named himself ‘Elvis’ which might indicate how much a big fan he (and probably my dad) was in their younger days.

My brothers and I usually preferred the faster ‘rockier’ songs of Elvis that we could dance to. When the cassette tape shifted to the ‘slow’ selections, sometimes we would fast forward it or do something else until another fast number started playing.

It was my dad who taught me how to appreciate the more melancholy songs and to listen to the story being told through the lyrics. He would turn up the volume, and start bobbing his head gently to the tune. I would sit down quietly trying my best to hear and understand the words. Then when the song reached a really significant phrase, my dad would repeat the words out loud. Sometimes he would briefly explain what the story of the song was about.

Here is one of those ‘melancholic Elvis songs’ I remember the most…



Happy Fathers' Day to all dads, granddads and dads-to-be!

On a related but somewhat different train of thought: I am thinking next time with my kid, I'd like them to groove to Elvis. You know how with kids they will have an obsessions with a particular song? So at all times between meals and naptime, The Wiggles or High Five or even a Hillsong track will be on repeat mode continously, punctuated only by an "Again!" in between plays. It can be pretty cute and amusing to watch how the kid behaves when their favourite song is played. Well don't you think how cute it is if a kid can groove and rock to "Jailhouse Rock" and "Hound Dog"... I think it will be so amusing and pretty cool too!

Multilingual prisms

I am sitting on the couch determined to share something. But as the many events and 'stuff that has happened' go whizzing through my brain, it only has the effect of stressing me out. I'd rather not go down there right now... not on the last day of this long weekend.

I'll tell you guys about something else completely random but very meaningful.

One of my current fixations is looking up Bible verses in Malay. I found an online Alkitab and have no end of fun searching through the references and reading through the Malay (or Bahasa Indo) translations.

It all started during one cell group meeting when we were discussing the next 'fruit' on the 'Fruits of the Spirit' series we were going through. As it sometimes happens, the discussion took a slight turn from the main question we were discussing. I cant remember why, but I suddenly randomly wondered out loud what 'Fruit of the Spirit' was called in Malay... would it be something like "Buah-buahan Roh Kudus"? The phrase sounded a bit strange and caused some laughter among the group, or among the Malaysians at least.

Everyone else forgot about it after the cell group meeting ended, but the next day I searched through the net for some online Malay or Bahasa Indo Bible translations...

"Tetapi buah Roh ialah: kasih, sukacita, damai sejahtera, kesabaran, kemurahan, kebaikan, kesetiaan, kelemahlembutan, penguasaan diri. Tidak ada hukum yang menentang hal-hal itu"

Galatia 5:22-23

My Malay is far from fantastic. it's dreadfully rusty after so many years of disuse (and don't even ask about my Hakka/Chinese). I use smatterings of it to get around as needed whenever I'm back in Malaysia for holiday... and the way I flail and falter around with it is dreadful. How is it possible that I was once able to speak it every single day at school and be able to churn out 2,000 word essays with it? However I know enough to be able to appreciate these translations. And of course I have the English version beside me as a guide for the more difficult words.

There's just something about reading verses and passages in another language... it adds a a certain depth and perspective that makes what you're reading so much more rich and meaningful. And I'm sure it's the same for any other language... Tamil, Chinese, Spanish, French, not to mention all the various dialects spinning off each one.

I envy people who are truly multilingual, because they have this prism to see so many different aspects and perspectives to a single phrase. I don't think it's something we are always conscious of, but I think it's something that's 'just there'. Even for the non-multilingual folk, I believe we can somehow sense this 'prism'... which somehow explains how we can be touched by a song, sung in a language we completely don't understand.

I remember so many times, a guest in church (such as a missionary or overseas visitor) doing a special song item in their native tongue... and I recall listening to songs I had no inkling of what they were singing in Spanish or Mandarin or Cantonese etc.... yet I could still be touched by it. Perhaps it has something to do with this common thread running through the all the souls of mankind.

I will leave you with this other translation of a familiar verse. See if you can figure out what is the verse or reference it is...

"Yesus Kristus tetap sama, baik dahulu, sekarang, dan sampai selama-lamanya"

Breakfasts are meant to be like this

One of the things I look forward to during weekends is breakfast.

For once in the long busy week, breakfast is not a rushed affair, hurriedly eaten on the go... but can be enjoyed in its rightful form: slowly and leisurely, savouring every single bite.

So what could be more glorious than a long weekend with not just one or two, but three glorious mornings of breakfasts - weekend style.

We had banana bread toast on Saturday morning (home baked).

On Sunday we had fried eggs and ham, and grilled tomatoes.

And Monday's menu was sourdough bread (again home baked) with Vegemite, dipped in semi-soft-boiled eggs. At least that was my version of it, because hubby doesn't eat Vegemite and doesn't like fussing around with the bread and egg dipping thing.

...All washed down with a pot of organic Sabah tea, sipped out of proper teacups on saucers - the way tea is meant to be enjoyed.

If only every morning could be like this.