Fried Bee Hoon

For once this dish didn't fall and crumble into short broken bits of rice sticks in my hands. With Wendy's help, it became a delicious, wholesome lunch... though we think we can do with more double the amount of canned pork belly next time, for that nostalgic taste.

We realised after devouring our creation, the fried shallot toppings were way pass its expiry date.

You Can't See Me

I found Saffi sitting on my bed one afternoon looking at the direction of my wardrobe and turned to see Oscar sitting in it.

He pretended not to see me.

Saffi is 6!

While most times just being totally cat-like and snoozy, other times Saffi likes to imitate people.

I realised that years ago when she used to get out of bed with me in the morning when the alarm goes off, she'd sit on the bathroom rug right behind me grooming, while I brush my teeth. Only she didn't have to go to work.

Sometimes wide awake and idling, she watches tellie with me and she likes to watch close to the set like she's short-sighted.

She sits across the table or alongside me when I'm having dinner, though most of the time refusing the offer of food. Just sitting there to be part of it.

Whenever I iron or tidy the clothes she makes attempts to help. But such enthusiasm don't last and sleep would take over.

When prepping my face at the mirror, often I catch her watching from the reflection.

She stares in disbelief when I use the hair-dryer and wonders why I allow myself to suffer under the hot-air monster jet.

Some stormy nights she would snuggle up close and lean against me. She'd even get herself under the duvet for safety.

She goes to the door when someone comes home, and hangs around in the kitchen when we cook. As if she's giving a hand.

She's a funny friend. On 14th December she's officially 6 years old. Happy Birthday Saffi, and keep doing what you do best!

Second Time Snowy

Arriving at London Heathrow yesterday morning was a little painful. Not after an hour's delay on ground which saw the aircraft departing at midnight in Singapore, not because I hardly rested through an oddly busy 13 hours' flight, and neither was it because after we made our way from terminal 3 to 5 that we had to wait an hour at the belt to get our baggages. But it was cold outside. Colder when you're tired.

At 6.30am local time, as I stood waiting at the bus stop I couldn't help but miss the woollen scarf and leather gloves I left at home.

When I looked out of the window at 10pm last night, it was snowing heavily and everything was mono-toned. A little scary, but kinda pretty that way:



This was taken at 6am this morning, when morning's just broken.

“It's so beautifully arranged on the plate - you know someone's fingers have been all over it.” - Julia Child