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Friday, May 18, 2018

Nice Handbag

At the risk of appearing like the gargoyle Rosmah Mansor, I hereby show off my newest handbag. The design is originally by some Japanese designer. Please don't ask me whom because I am not sure. For almost a decade, you can only buy this handbag from the actual label itself, which sells it for SGD$700. Yes, yes... I know the price because my brother's wife bought one.

There is no way I will pay SGD$700 for a handbag. No way.

I loved the design though. I have loved it for years. So, when I came across it at a pasar malam, I bought it for $35. I bought 2. Then, in a fit of affection for my Mother-in-law, I gave her the extra one that I had bought. My 70+ year old mother-in-law loves it too. Then, I went to the photocopying shop to get some stuff printed. The lady admired my pretty bag. I popped by to get her one and delivered it when I went to pick up my printouts.

Driving home, I saw a very fat lady pushing a market trolley and laden with plastic bags. She was carrying one too.

It really is a pretty bag. The problem is, all the ladies carrying the bag are NOT pretty at all. I tote it everywhere in my slippers and shorts. Grandma totes it. The 60 year old at the photocopying shop now also has one. That fat  karung guni lady was carrying one.

By this time next year, this bag won't scream style anymore. This bag will scream "Auntie!" That's ok. To me, it is still a pretty bag. I am going to buy one more to keep in the cupboard so that when the one I have gives out, I have a spare!

I wonder why I can get this bag for so cheap. Of course, it is brandless. Did the copyright whatever it is lapse?

National Service

In the best of times, I don't think any mother looks forward to seeing her son go into National Service. Come on, how can I send that baby in the video, to NS?

Right now, I feel positively panicky about NS. In 3 months, 3 young men have died. I am terrified at the thought of losing The Son. It is a cold fear in my heart that nothing can warm. I complained to my husband, who did nothing but shrug. I complained to my son, who said that the statistical chances are very low.

Yes, but they are not zero. They should be zero.

The Israelis all have 5 kids. They are a nation at war and all Israeli mothers know that young people die in the service of their country. They have many kids to ensure at least some are left to console a bereaved mother. Even then, there are mothers who lose all their children to war. But... but... but... Israel is constantly at war. Their boys die so that Israel might survive. Our boys die because some young idiotic officer barely out of his teens, was either cruel or stupid.

Why did not anyone tell me that our young men too, could die in the service of our country, for no better reason than the stupidity and cruelty of another young man? I would have made 10 kids. As it is, I only have 1 son and 1 daughter. Both are precious to me.

So, I am deeply regretful that I made The Son swim 15 laps or jog 15 minutes daily when he was in P4 through to P6. I deeply regret that I was so proud of his 6-pack at the end of P5. I should also not have been so proud when his school selected him as talent for Track and Field (which we rejected in favour of shooting).

At that time, there was a spate of young men who simply dropped dead of heart failure whilst marching in the sun. I decided that I had to ensure that The Son developed a strong heart. So, I forced him to swim or jog daily. Now, I am rewarded by the news that he has to go for Commando medical. I should have kept him indoors and sent him pale and slender (with a slight cough) to his NS medical. Oh why did I make a son with a rippling torso and a muscular right arm (the right arm holds up the pistol).

I am usually quite good at keeping my worries to myself. The Husband, The Daughter and The Son all have stressful schedules and it is not fair to burden them with my fears. This time, I whined and whined and whined. When I suggested that my son deliberately fail his Commando medical, both The Husband and The Son gave me speechless stares. And I am like, "So what!"

Then, my son assured me that he had no interest in joining the Commandos and would make sure he told that to the interview panel, but he had no intention of intentionally failing anything.

As you can see, I have now taken to whining on my blog.

Every day, I send one of the following pictures to my son on Telegram. I know that if I send it all to him at a go, he will only read the last one. I upload the pictures in the hope that they will be useful to other mothers.

Psssst... a friend of mine has a son who got sent to the K9 Unit. I am praying for that assignment too! Or perhaps the cyber security unit? Or the UAV (unmanned aerial vehicle unit)?

Friday, May 11, 2018

Aggressive Roving Males

Nobody likes roosters.

People have been trying to give me roosters. In the space of 2 days, 3 people offered me their roosters. The roosters either were aggressive or they had the tendancy to run away. Of course, roosters don't lay eggs either. You really only want them around if you intend to breed more chickens.

Roosters are individuals, you know. They all have their own individual personalities. My Ah Koon (aka Max) is very mild and gentlemanly. He sits mildly on his perch and surveys his domain. If there is danger to his flock, he will raise the alarm, which is a few times a day.

When a cat comes by.

When Milo makes eyes at the flock.

When the garbage truck comes around.

When the rooster from the jungle comes to visit.

That is all he does, my Ah Koon. He doesn't do battle himself. He raises the alarm and expects me to come and rescue the flock. I do that (or my helper does).

Other people's roosters are more problematic. There is one who, in the throes of reproductive frenzy claws the back of the hen. Of course, since the hen lays eggs, people don't want their hens to be hurt. There is always the risk that the hen will die of infection. Solution: give problem rooster to Petunia. However, the family said Petunia cannot eat said rooster. Why would I take in a rooster that rapes hens violently? I have a pretty hen and 3 pretty pullets. Why would I want to create an India for chickens? Of course, I'll eat it. Ok... so they decided to find another home for the rooster.

Then, there was another who would run away! He would pop into the houses around the neighbourhood for a look see and eat other people's plants. The owner was fed up with having to go collect his rooster back. So, hey Petunia, fancy a roving rooster? Again, when the person heard that I would eat it, the decision was taken to let the rooster loose in the jungle. Something will eat that rooster. It just won't be me. Why would I want a rooster that I have to go up and down the street to catch?!

The 3rd person was rather more understanding. Their rooster would not allow the hens to eat. He chased them away from the feeder and he also would not let the new hens into the coop. This family asked me to ensure that the rooster did not suffer unduly. I was asked to eat it.

I was shaking my head at these aggressive male birds whose unseemly behaviour would lead them straight into the stockpot, when my Milo (male dog) got into a fight with Cliff (the neighbour's male dog). All I could see was a blur of fur rolling around on the tarmac, and then, as if nothing had happened, they suddenly started sniffing each others' butts.

Males are weird.

Friday, May 4, 2018

Can Dogs Fall In Love?

Every time we walk Milo, he goes over to this house and sits in front of the gate. Inside, a little lady Maltese will scratch on the glass door, clamouring to be let out into the garden. Then, both the dogs will sit across from each other separated by a gate. They will sniff each other. The lady Maltese will pee on Milo. They will both whine.

I have never seen Milo be nice to any dog before. I wonder if he is in love with this one. Fancy letting your girlfriend pee on you!