Picard Bag Repair

My Picard Bag.

This is my favourite handbag. It isn't even a woman's bag. Picard sells it in the men's section, as a man's backpack. I loved this bag from Day 1. I saw it first, in passing, when shopping for The Husband's ties. I put it down and out of my mind when I saw the price tag, $199. 

Handbags should never cost more than $60.

Then, The Husband needed a briefcase. As The Husband browsed Picard briefcases, I cuddled the bag. Fate had brought us together again, me and my bag. I stood there caressing the soft leather, and admiring the elegant curves of the bag. I marvelled at how the bag compartments seemed to be designed for my habits, and my belongings. The label, "Picard," even shares the "P," of Petunia.

So, I bought it. 

Every 3 months, I rubbed mink oil into the leather to keep it supple. After 3 years of use, the bag has kept its shape and its leather has aged into a pleasing patina. It looks used. It is. It looks loved. It is. 

Then, I discovered the fraying strap. In a panic, I drove to Picard at Metro, Causeway Point to buy a new one. The new one is not like the old one. The old one had a different personality. It had wrinkles. It gleamed at certain places where I liked to rub my fingers, just to feel its softness. It felt familiar, like an old 臭臭. So, I mourned my broken bag.

Then, I found a leather bag hospital to send it to: HERE.

The Leather Bag Doctor marvelled at the workmanship of my Picard bag. I daresay that the workmanship way surpassed a $1200 Ralph Lauren briefcase I once examined. Then, he turned it over and said, "Ah! Picard... no wonder the workmanship is so good."

Apparently, Picard is known for very good workmanship amongst people who know their leather. Thank goodness it does not cost as much as those Chanels and Hermès and stuff... Those also sell on good workmanship. Picard is well made and sensibly priced. I hope to carry that bag for another 17 years. Once that bag goes, I have another one just like it in the closet. The 2nd one should last me another 20 years. After which, I might be dead.

Now, every 3 months, I shall have the pleasure of rubbing mink oil onto 2 Picard bags.

Fraying leather strap.

Leather Bag Hospital.

Fat

The Husband calls him "Pork Floss."

"He's fat," M said.

"He's fat," said I.

It took me a long while to understand that M and I mean vastly different things when we say the same 3 words. M means it as a compliment. That person or pet is well fed, prosperous and in the pink of health. When I say these 3 words,  I mean...

- Heart disease.
- Pre-diabetes.
- Metabolic syndrome.

M's life goal is to make us and all our pets fat. My life goal is to ensure we all stay lean and muscular.  These 2 goals conflict. Before we even recognised that there was conflict, we went through years of misunderstanding. I pointed out that Milo was getting fat, meaning that M should feed him less food. M took it to mean that she had done a good job feeding Milo, and fed him even more!

Milo put on 5 kgs before I questioned her exactly how much food Milo was getting. I asked her to halve the portions. This did not quite work because M was so very proud of our fatter dog. So, she took liberties with the word "half." Perhaps, the Myanmese notion of half is not quite mine either?

Milo only started losing weight when we weighed his food and told M to only give 600g at each meal. Then, Milo was NOT to snack.

The same issue is cropping up with Pistachio. Pistachio gets 300g at each meal. However, M complains that he is too thin. M gave the issue a rest when Pistachio grew fluffy. She was very pleased because Pistachio looked fluffy fat, and that could be credited to the high quality care given to him by M.

Meanwhile, I kept worrying that Pistachio was too fat. Then, when we brought Pistachio to the groomers, I was very pleased. Pistachio is very lean. M is not happy. She said, "Can feed more or not?"

Of course not!

Look at the tiny waistline!

Guava Leaf Juice

You know that the human drive for self-determination is very strong when you have lined up multiple options for dandruff and scalp health, but  The Husband insists on cutting his own path with Guava Leaf. It was Ah Leo who first sold him 2 bars of Guava Leaf soap HERE.

The Husband was so thrilled about Guava Leaf that he went from Chong Pang Market straight to World Farm to get an entire pink guava tree to give to me. You must understand that my husband is a practical man. When he gives his wife gifts, he usually has some interesting/interested motives. For example, when he gave me a yoghurt machine HERE, he wanted me to make yoghurt everyday.

Thanks to Covid19, Ah Leo cannot be found. So, my interesting/interested husband took me gently in his arms and said lovingly, "It is quite easy to make guava leaf soap, you know; and, we have a tree already."

In the end, we compromised with Guava Leaf Juice, that he sprays on his scalp. It smells very good indeed and hopefully, it'll do the same job as the soap. Apparently, this thing is good for acne too.

Loyalty

Milo is old. Sometimes, my children and I make fun of Milo's old dog problems, and we laugh. We joke about how stinky he is, and how stupid he is, and how boorish he is, compared to Pistachio. Till today, Milo has not figured out that he can get food off the table by standing up on his hind legs. He also does not know that he can move his dog bed by himself.

One day, The Husband overheard our jeers. He growled quietly at us, "Don't say bad things about Milo."

One growl from The Husband, and all of us kept quiet. Ashamed we were, that we had repaid so many years of Milo's loyal service to us with unkind jeers. Milo has grown smelly and cantankerous. Yet, he still hangs on to my every smile, and it is ever so important to Milo, that I pat him and tell him that he is a good dog.

Suddenly, I feel guilty for getting Pistachio into our lives. It seems the height of disloyalty to the dog who thinks so highly of me that he brings me his half chewed bones as love gifts. These days,  whenever I step through the door, Milo rushes at me and pushes me up against the wall. He wants to be petted and smiled at.

I had wanted Milo and Pistachio to be friends and play together. Instead, I have become the "bone of contention" between them. The thing though, Pistachio's affections are shallow. Pistachio likes everyone. Pistachio is affectionate and loving to anybody. Milo is highly selective. Only The Daughter and I, will do. Us 2, we are irreplaceable in Milo's heart.

Sigh... maybe it was not a good idea to get a 2nd dog. I don't understand. Many families have multiple dogs and it seems to work out fine. What did I do wrong?

I am ashamed to note that The Husband has a thing or 2 to teach me about loyalty. He was loyal and loving to me all through my Fat Petunia years. Men of weaker character would have strayed. He is loyal and loving to his old toy truck, which now takes pride of place on a display cabinet. He is loyal and loving to Milo, and he will brook no unkindness to Milo from any of us.

Loyal... constant... steadfast... The Husband is all these things. The thing is, I thought that I was all these things too. It turns out that I cannot hold a candle to The Husband. I have been disloyal to Milo.

Most Used Combination

The Gill Mask is expensive. I reserve my Gill Mask for airconditioned environments where the risk of aerosolised virus is much higher. I try as much as possible to avoid such airconditioned places. Hence, I don't need my Gill Mask as much. I use it sparingly and only in situations where I need to maximise my own protection.

Mostly, I lend my Gill Mask to The Husband, to wear to work. After 1 day of wear, his own Gill Mask smells bad. So, he wears my Gill Mask the next day, whilst I wash his smelly one in hot soapy water, and dry it in the sun. I also scent the Gill Mask filters with Yves Rocher's lilac eau de toilette.

After collecting everything from fisherman's hats to Gill masks and an assortment of mask sleeves and mask pockets, my most used combination is now...
- the $2 a piece 3 ply cloth masks with a wet wipe insert (pre-washed and pre-dried wet wipe)
- along with the above face shield.

This combination is reasonably comfortable. Besides, I really have a lot of these cloth masks.

Now that the crowds are back everywhere, I don't feel safe with only a face mask on. Even through the face mask, I can still smell the scent of some people's breath as they walk past me. Wearing the face shield along with the face mask does effectively block out these smells.

The masks are worn so close to the face that it is awful if they do not smell nice. I have so many of those $2 cloth masks that I can afford to wear a fresh one every time I step out of the house. It feels good to put on a fresh smelling cloth mask every trip out. To hot and humid places where the Covid19 virus aerosols poorly, the cloth masks suffice, especially since I can easily change out a wet, smelly one for the fresh, clean, spare one inside my bag.

Smells give me stress but smells also give me pleasure. I enjoy sunning our masks and bath towels immensely. Even though my helper can do these things, I will personally wash our masks and sun dry our towels, for nothing more than the pleasure of being able to enjoy the scent of the sun on them later in the day.

There is something magical about how The Husband's smelly bath towel becomes fresh and nice smelling after 3 hrs in the sun. I hold it in my hands and imagine The Husband also breathing in the sunlight on his bath towel after his shower. That is just me though. The Husband probably does not smell a thing, and he may not even be able to tell the difference between his funky wet towel and the warm, dry and sweet smelling one that I hang out for him after his shower.

Gluten Free Low Carb Chocolate Cake

Gluten free cakes are expensive. So, when Tastemade showed me a chocolate cake recipe made from coconut flour, I jumped on it. This is a keeper. I will be able to magic up a slice of home made chocolate cake now. It is low carb too because there is very little sugar, and no wheat flour at all.

Ingredients

6 eggs

2 cups desiccated grated coconut

1/2 cup butter

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 cup cocoa powder

1 tbsp baking powder

Method Steps
(1) Beat the. egg whites into stiff peaks.
(2) Beat egg yolks with sugar till light yellow and fluffy.
(3) Add cocoa powder into fluffy egg yolks. Mix well.
(4) Add dessicated grated coconut. Mix well.
(5) Add baking powder. Mix well.
(6) Fold in the egg whites gently.
(7) Bake at 175C for 45 minutes. Turn down to 130C for another 10 minutes.
(8) Cool on a rack before cutting.

End of Circuit Breaker

The world is going back to normal, but I am not happy. The circuit breaker was 2 months of calm and quiet. Trucks have begun to barrel down the main road, sending tremors to our house. Traffic jams have started again. Helicopters fly incessantly overhead, their constant droning drown out the birdsong we enjoyed for 2 months.

Throngs of people have begun to gather at the eateries at the mouth of our street. We decided this evening to have dinner at a kopi tiam within an industrial estate. Normally, it is not very crowded at 5pm. This evening, we saw crowds that were exceptional. We turned right around and went home.

At this point, I am far too chicken shit for Chong Pang Market. I wheedled The Husband to go in my place once a week, with a list of things to buy. The blessed man is happy to pamper me. I hide at home, in my quiet and calm bedroom, recoiling at all the neurotypical liveliness that has spread like an unquenchable prairie fire, out there.

I experienced 2 whole months of an autistic friendly world, one where noise is muted, smells are diluted and people communicate via text. Only now I realise the extent to which I feel uncomfortable in the world I grew up in.

I am loath to go back to normalcy.

I went to Chong Pang Market every day for a year or so, to train myself to tolerate things that cause me to shut down. After 2 months of Circuit Breaker, all that hard self-training has completely come undone. I think of Chong Pang Market with some degree of anxiety now. I am unwilling to go there. Why do I have to force myself to do things that make me uncomfortable anyway? In normal times, neurotypical people do not have to force themselves to do the things that I prefer to do: stay at home and only text people. I guess Covid19 let an entire world of neurotypical people have a taste of what an autistic person prefers. They did not like it. It stressed them.

I wish people understood that being stressed by a noisy, crowded and smelly environment is a daily reality for autistic folks for years and years, not just for 2 months of Circuit Breaker.

The Husband says that I will get used to it again. He says that I have to give myself time. He will patiently go to Chong Pang on my behalf for as long as I am not comfortable. Sometimes, it just feels like it is a hopeless endeavour, you know. I trained for so long and after a break of 2 months, I am right back where I started. I am nowhere near neurotypical. It simply cannot be done. It is an impossible task.

I will never develop the ease with which my favourite Chong Pang hawkers can...
- read and understand faces
- read and understand the unspoken
- ignore the smells and the noise to only focus on the meaningful smells and noise.

Perhaps, in a few months, I will feel brave enough to go out there again. Now, I just want to stay at home, or only venture out to uncrowded places. Chong Pang Market was bliss during the Circuit Breaker. I was able to make proper eye contact with my favourite hawkers. I was able to respond smoothly without feeling pulled by stimulus in every direction, and therefore ending up not responding at all. I did not experience any event where I could hear what people said to me, and be unable to respond. I did not feel anxious about not being able to look at everyone who was looking at me.

Right now, I do not feel brave enough to start training again.

Instead, I shall stay at home and wallow in self-pity.

Petunia's Ugly Pineapple Tarts

When I started making them, they looked like anybody else's pretty pineapple tarts. They did! They were normal pineapple tarts. I was very proud of them too! I was so proud that I showed off to the lady who makes Tan Lee Eng Pineapple Tarts (the pineapple tarts of choice for the C-suite).

She praised me too. She did!

Then, people started complaining. Hey... I don't like the pineapple jam. I never liked it. I eat the cookie base and you eat my jam, ok Mom? So, there we were. I was eating balls of jam because I love the jam on the pineapple tarts (especially the homemade jam that we make from reducing the pulp and juice of 5 whole pineapples). Someone else was eating all the cookie bases. Once, I came downstairs to find 10 balls of pineapple tarts missing their cookie bases. Someone had eaten 10 cookie bases and left the jam balls behind.

Then, someone else said that the jam balls made the cookies soggy because the jam's moisture wicked into the cookies.

Then, someone else asked if he could have peanut butter on the cookie base, rather than the pineapple jam.

In the end, I decided to skip the step of rolling the pineapple jam into pretty little balls and placing them delicately on the cookie base. I fed my family the deconstructed pineapple tarts. Here is the cookie base, a spoon, a jar of pineapple jam, a jar of peanut butter and a jar of lemon curd.

Make your own tart.

So, they all did.

When it came to my turn, since I was constructing my own pineapple tart in real time, I decided to smother it in jam because the best part of the tart, for me, is the jam. Voilà! I present you Petunia's Ugly Pineapple Tarts.

Do you think anyone will buy them?

The Power of Our Malay Women

To all the young ladies reading this post, know this. Let no man touch you against your will. Claim the right to choose who can touch even your little finger. To all the young men reading this post, know this. Don't take a "No," to mean "Yes"... and filming someone in the shower is a no-no.

I had never heard of OkLetsGo. They do podcasts in Malay. I am not conversant in Malay.  They style themselves "open-minded", "real" and able to tackle "tough" issues. I was curious about the "real" and "tough" issues that they addressed. Perhaps, these were...
- social inequality
- domestic violence
- the plight of children growing up in households making less than $800 a month
- racism
- exploitative landlords
- the plight of children with drug addict parents
- young girls forced into sexual slavery

No leh... their tough issues are
- drug use
- prison life
- sexuality

Drug use is a tough issue? It sounds like stupidity and weakness to me. Prison life is a tough issue? Why? If you committed a crime, then go to prison. If prison is tough, don't commit crimes in the first place. Sexuality? How tough can it be when cats, dogs, slugs, birds all have a good go at it?

Then, I read this account HERE about OKLetsGo podcasts
- promoting the sale and purchase of Syrian and Russian wives
- condoning the pornographic Telegram group Nasi Lemak saying that the members in the group needed a way to fulfill their sexual needs
- interviewing a lady who had suffered a mental breakdown because her husband had forced all sorts of unwelcome sexual practices upon her, including violent rape and wife sharing.

The interview of the lady unfurled with a complete lack of compassion for her.

This complete lack of compassion continued when Sarah explained that she held herself accountable for the torture she has had to endure, claiming that it was the result of her “pampering” the ex-husband by giving in to his every whim. One podcaster asked in full confusion, “How is that pampering though?” referring to her giving her husband anything he wanted. Then, after summarizing their understanding of the situation, he questioned again, as if struggling to fathom, “Are you saying that by depriving him of the things that he wants, you would have made him a more mellowed person than he is right now?” Both questions disturbingly insinuate that the podcasters deem it a necessity for a husband’s wants to be fulfilled by his wife.

- Click HERE for Source -

The interview ends with the lady breaking down.

Firstly, should not this exploitative and real-time abusive material be legally pursued under the Undesirable Publications Act?

Secondly, the mindset of the podcasters was clearly that men should be able to satisfy every single one of their sexual urges no matter how deviant, even if it meant hurting their women or placing them in danger. Very very clearly, these podcasters think that women have no rights in the bedroom. It is not an equal partnership. There is a master (the husband) and a slave (the wife). It is not an act of love between 2 equal partners but one of an object used for the satisfaction of certain men whose brains have no space for wisdom, kindness and good judgment... because only filled with sex.

It is this type of thinking that very quickly slips down the slope of: "Let me take a 2nd/3rd/4th wife," or "Let me buy someone's virginity."

Let's not do that. Let's not. The world already has girls as young as 13 years old sold into sexual slavery, beaten, imprisoned and forced to have sex with men 5 times older than they. What would be good is this. These 3 men should be reborn into their next lives as girls sold into sexual slavery. I hope these 3 men have enough imagination to look forwards to their next lives. Better still, these 3 podcasters should go through their next lives with full memory of their present deeds and words. This way, they will understand the karmic debt they now owe the women of the entire Malay community in Singapore.

The ladies in the Malay community pushed back. They raised soft, firm and elegant voices to hold the line for all Singapore women. Thank you!

President Halimah Yaacob wrote this:

COVID-19 brought about terrible consequences for many women around the world. The incidence of violence against women, which is already an issue in many countries, became worse. In some countries, non-profit organisations even had to provide shelter for women and their children during this period.

The best way to educate a community on respect for women, is not during this period, but it is a lifetime process, starting at a very young age, when children, especially boys, see how their mothers are treated by their fathers. That influences them and contributes to how they will treat the women in their lives later on. But this duty to mould the minds of the young to develop healthy and respectful relationships with women does not rest with the family alone. It resides with every one of us, and particularly those who have great influence over people through social media.

If we continue to perpetuate the image of women being inferior, existing only for the purpose of male sexual gratification, then we have to be held responsible for being one of the perpetrators of violence against women.

Women are not objects to be made fun of, ridiculed and trampled upon, and no one has the right to do that to them. Women have the right to be respected, valued for their contributions in the family and in our society. Taking cheap pot shots at women to boost ratings or to make some people laugh no matter how offensive, cannot be justified under any label be it freedom of speech or encouraging conversations. How do you encourage healthy conversations about the role of women and families, when your starting point is to degrade women.

Hence, the Podcast OkLetsGo should sincerely and humbly apologise to all women for their offensive, humiliating and misogynistic remarks on their podcasts about women. I received so many emails from very concerned people. They worry about the kind of values that are being promoted among the young, and their concerns are justified.

It's not ok to treat women like dirtbags and punching bags.

Our women in Singapore have worked very hard to raise their status through education, employment and in raising healthy families. They are important in building healthy communities which will be undermined by such podcasts.

They don’t deserve this treatment by OkLetsGo or any other group.

- Click HERE for Source -

Milo At the Vet

We have a very scary vet. Really. Everyone is scared of her. The first time we brought Milo to her, she fixed us with a baleful stare:

- Why is he muzzled?

- He has such badly infected paws. Why did you not bring him earlier?

- He has such badly infected paws. Why does he not have a cone on?

She asks these questions as a series of rhetorical questions. She does not expect an answer even as all of us nervously try to explain that he does have a cone but it was hard to keep it on in the car... that we did spend about $1000 at Mt. Pleasant before finding her... that if he is not muzzled, he will howl so loud in the car, that other cars will make way for us, because they think we are driving an ambulance.

So, the next time we brought Milo for a visit, we did not muzzle him. He howled so loud in the consultation room that the vet coldly declared, "I can't talk over that noise." But... but... but... she said NOT to muzzle him! We obeyed!

She is a very popular vet, though. Even with an appointment, we end up waiting 2 hrs each time. There is no queue number system so you can't register and then come back later. You actually have to sit there and wait.

This vet has a long line of small-sized patients. Milo is huge compared to all the tiny dogs, cats, parakeets, parrots, budgerigars, hamsters, and rabbits that she sees. Milo is also the worst behaved. Someone came in with a cat carrier, and set it down in front of Milo. The cat peered out and Milo peered in. Then, we had to grab Milo as he lunged. Then, a mysterious box of lego came in. No one knew what was inside.When it turned out to be a rabbit, we again had to grab hold of our dog.

When a butterfly fluttered past, we felt like we were on a dog pulled sled.

Then, Milo felt the urge to poop. So, he did his business in the HDB void deck corridor under the disapproving eyes of all the other angelic small patients and their relatives. We then had to do the walk of shame, as we pretended nothing was wrong, when picking up the long line of droppings from right under the disapproving eyes of all the other angelic small patients and their relatives. 

Meanwhile, Milo let out a never ending series of whines and howls, that sounded like Pavarotti practising with a sore throat. Milo's lack of appeal cuts across all races. The Chinese, Indian and Malay relatives of all the other well-behaved patients shot us dirty looks.

In the end, The Son had to apply deep pressure therapy on Milo. This required The Son to sprawl ON Milo ON the floor, with his legs spread wide and holes in his t-shirt. Suddenly, I was also ashamed of my son. He looked like some uneducated coolie come out the pages of a history book. All you need to do is to add an opium pipe to the picture, and history would have come alive right in front of you.

It did not help that it was still within the Circuit Breaker period. So, there was no way to hang out at a cafe or a kopi tiam. The waiting room at the vet can only fit 2 people. So, people hang around at the HDB void deck. At one point, The Son and The Daughter had to sit on the kerbside with their legs in the drain, whilst waiting.

天一阁

In the C-drama 碧血书香梦, the story revolves around a 400 year old private library: 汇帙阁. This fictional library was inspired from a real library: 天一阁. 天一阁 originated in 1560. From then till now, the collection and the building have stayed intact.

I was thrilled to bits to discover this 天一阁 from searching for whether the fictional 汇帙阁 really existed. A fully bilingual friend found the following video for me. I share it with readers. It has both English and Chinese subtitles.

Fascinating!

This library is the 3rd oldest private collection in the world. It is the oldest collection in Asia. See HERE.

Mama VS Papa

Men have very different attitudes towards harmful pathogens than women. When the children were little, I would keep The Daughter's milk formula measuring spoon in a jam jar. I washed my hands every time I opened the jar to take out the spoon. Once I had measured out the milk powder, I carefully put the spoon back in the jar again.

The Husband left the spoon inside the can of milk powder for easier access.

Again and again, male friends tell me "Dirty Eat Dirty Grow," when I question why they've just handed their child a piece of food from off the floor. I personally saw The Son pick up a piece of meat off the carporch floor and swallow it, smiling and saying, "I will be fine."

The Husband stuck a finger up his nose and when caught, grinned sheepishly at me, "Doing this helps my immunity." Men are so used to overcoming challenges that they want to have a good go at surmounting everything. Once, whilst in the pool, The Son's 9 month old head went under water. The Husband said, "He will learn to come up again," even as I panicked and grabbed my son.

Hence, Boris Johnson took the patriarchal line, "Let the virus go through the population so that we can have herd immunity."

Jacinda Ardern took the matriarchal line, "If we let the virus go through the population, a lot of people will die before we achieve herd immunity.

Have a look at this video to see how men choose to live with danger, and women have zero tolerance for it. Click HERE.

Love From A Previous Life 前生缘

One of C-drama's repetitive themes is that of past life unions. Again and again in almost every story, there is the poignant mention of past life lovers not recognising each other... or the even more heart rending notion of meeting someone in this life that you can never be with, and yet something in your soul calls out in yearning.

The theme song of 孤芳不自赏 portrays this emotional tension beautifully.

那一次我经过你身边
来不及回头看一眼
却闻到很熟悉的味道有点咸
像耳边眼泪的伤感

那是种很小心的呢喃
仿佛诉说著前生缘
虽然听不清是怎样一段过往
却能感知一种不舍叫思念

前生的爱终究会留下一个记号
就是我偷偷把眼泪都吞掉
把不能说的痛自己承受
而你却什么都不知道

前生的爱终究会留下一个记号
就是你所有记忆都清空掉
只用陌生眼神看着我
直到有天我们都变老
这秘密依旧完好

That moment when I passed by you by
I did not turn back in time to see you
Yet, I smelled something familiar... a little salty
Like tears of sadness flowing past my ears

It was a careful whisper
As if sighing the story of a previous liaison
Although I can’t quite make out the meaning
I can feel a sort of deep longing

The love from a past life will leave a mark
Which is me swallowing my tears secretly
Bearing the unspeakable pain
Which you know nothing of

The love from a past life will leave a mark
Where all your memories are erased
You look at me with the eyes of a stranger
Until one day we all get old
And the secret is still not opened up

碧血书香梦

I found a new C-drama series to watch: 碧血书香梦. It ranks in popularity lower than The General and I (孤芳不自赏) but I like it better.

The story is a fictional exploration of women's emancipation in China. It is set circa the 1911 Revolution, called the 辛亥革命, that overthrew China's last imperial dynasty, and created The Republic of China. The story begins with an exploration of a daughter-in-law's place in a multi-generational household of great wealth and culture.

The first episode left me gobsmacked as I saw how the patriarch of the household had...
- not only the power to order that a daughter-in-law be beaten,
- he also had the power of life and death over her.

Against his will, the 3rd son was forced to take a wife. The 3rd son was gay. Forced to marry against his will, this gay man committed suicide on his wedding night. The father-in-law ruled that the young lady was responsible for his son's death, and sentenced her to death by drowning. At this point, the entire family, 3 brothers and their wives and an entire retinue of servants, progressed to the river downtown to drown the hapless new bride on her 1st day in the new home.

Wow!

At this point, I decided to read up on women's rights in feudal China. To my horror, I found THIS. It was stipulated in all the laws of the Tang, Ming and Qing that anyone who had beaten the daughter-in-law, or the wife of a grandson, to death, for no reason, would be sentenced to 3 years of imprisonment; anyone who had intentionally killed them, would be sentenced to exile 2000 li away; but anyone who had negligently killed her would not be punished. 

The death of a daughter-in-law was worth no more than 3 years in prison. Somewhere in the first episode of 碧血书香梦, there was also someone denigrating the bride for NOT having bound feet. In that era, unbound feet attracted social opprobrium.

These are jarring themes, but they reminded me of how far Singapore has come since those days when my uncles and grandfather had multiple wives. The values and ethics in Singapore remained feudal for quite a long time because Singapore did not go through the mayhem of The Cultural Revolution and the 1911 Revolution. It was not until 1961 when Kwa Geok Choo helped to draft the Women's Charter that Singapore women began to have rights. The themes in 碧血书香梦 reminded me of The Gate of Hope in one corner of CHIJMES where girl babies were abandoned because their families did not want an extra daughter.

Suddenly moved to tears, I rushed across the landing to peek into The Daughter's room where she worked, all porcelain skin, and soft brown hair framing an oval face. She was Slacking a colleague in London. Right now, she is working on the same team as a bunch of Greek men, based in London, serving a company in Brazil and Argentina. I smiled as she told me that her investment in Carnival Corp had appreciated three times since mid-March 2020.

The Daughter has rights to property, to physical safety, an education, to the freedom of travel, to vote. As women in this modern day and age, we take these rights for granted but it was not too long ago when I realised that my own mother-in-law...
- believed that I had no right to own property,
- believed that a good daughter-in-law would obey her in everything.

On hindsight, I recall a strange conversation I had with MIL, when she commented that if she were personally wealthier, I would probably be more 顺. To me, at that time, I was not even sure what the word 顺, meant. However, I did manage to understand that she thought that if she had money, she would command more obedience from me. In my head, I thought to myself, "The issue is not how much money YOU have. The issue is that I make enough money that I don't need yours. Even if I make less money than you have, I would choose the dignity and freedom of a smaller home, rags as clothes, and to starve... than give you the right to tell me how to wash my toilet, arrange my furniture and bring up my kids."

Moral of the Story: Don't marry wealth. Make your own wealth.

In the year 2020, I live in the same house as a woman who espouses the values of feudal China right into the marrow of her bones. This woman literally claimed the house that I built, half paid for and owned, as hers... because she recognises the sole owner to be her son. This woman claims 100% obedience from me... because she thinks her son owns me. She owns me via her son, and has right to my obedience.

Her beliefs are all the more incredible in that I have never once taken any money from her. I made/make my own money. In fact, my situation can best be described as: I pay her to own me. Hahahahahahaha! What a joke!

The only reason why she is benign, and cannot hurt me, is that I am protected by the Women's Charter, which specifies that I have rights to own property and freedom to be my own woman. Can you imagine if Singapore law stipulates that anyone who had beaten the daughter-in-law, or the wife of a grandson, to death, for no reason, would be sentenced to 3 years of imprisonment; anyone who had intentionally killed them, would be sentenced to exile 2000 li away; but anyone who had negligently killed her would not be punished. 

I would likely be dead of countless beatings, before today.

As women, and mothers of daughters, we must never take these freedoms for granted. The rights we have today, can be easily lost. See the photos below of Iranian women before and after the Islamic Revolution. So too, in China, in the Tang Dynasty, women had both independent social status and freedom. By the time it came to Qing Dynasty, women could be killed by their male relatives with impunity.

I realise that I am quite sensitive about women's rights and gender equality. No wonder I hate it when the hawkers at Chong Pang call me 小妹. I think that the next time, I hear someone call me that, I will call him 小弟. Let's see how he reacts to that. No, no... please don't tell me that 小妹 is a compliment of my youthful looks. The implications for women's rights and gender equality of the term 小妹 far outweigh any compliment that it may convey. In certain countries, in the year 2020, women die because of gender inequality. Others live lives filled with violence, deprivation and humiliation.

Those of us with daughters need to teach them self-respect. Those of us with sons need to teach them to respect women as equals, not patronise them as 小妹.

I am so traumatised by my MIL that I wake up some nights, in tears, having had nightmares about her. If I, living in modern day Singapore, can be so greatly traumatised by a feudal China Wannabe MIL, can you imagine what life would have been like for women in Qing Dynasty China?

Opening Up Battening Down

Even as the economy is opening up, I have decided to batten down. All through the Circuit Breaker, I felt safe going to Chong Pang Market to tapau food. Now, I feel a lot less safe. I feel even less safe now that the government has taken to publishing a list of places frequented by Covid19 patients.

The good thing about the Circuit Breaker was that I developed some new habits of buying in bulk. I now tapau 10 glasses of sugar cane juice each time I go. I freeze them and have enough to last 20 days. I have also worked out a way (thanks to the kindness of those lovely braised pork guys) to not queue for my braised duck rice. Instead of 2 egg tarts a day, I now buy 12 egg tarts a week. These keep well in the fridge. Even things like nonya kueh keep up to 3 days in the fridge. Best of all, I don't need to queue for teh si kosong anymore because our home version is just as good.

I can order online for self pick-up at Coba Coba. Coba Coba has a nice open space for waiting. So, social distancing is not an issue. Yishun Park Hawker Centre hawkers have come together to share an oddle delivery platform. Toastbox delivers laksa. Mr Bean delivers tauhuey.

I managed to get a large freezer. It is still full of meat, fish and cheese. I haven't bought any vegetables for about 10 days because the garden produces more than enough. As long as I am happy to cook what I have, instead of cooking from recipes, there is little need to step out of the house. All said, I only need to make, at most, 2 trips a week to Chong Pang Market.

I've started shopping a lot more online too: meat thermometer, oil separator for soup, yoga shorts.

I reckon that I will keep to these habits even after the economy opens up.

My Literacy in Chinese

神: God
魔: Devil
剑: Sword
妖: Demon
仙: Immortal
啊: Ah
呢: Ne
爱: Love
恨: Hate
救: Rescue
杀: Kill
死: Die
错: Wrong
情: Feeling
恩: Gratitude
坐: Sit
战: War
心: Heart
说话: Speak
打: Hit
修练: Practise

I have achieved some degree of literacy in Chinese. It is not bad considering that I was entirely illiterate before. The Husband is most tickled because my vocabulary is entirely limited to 仙侠 words. One of the first words I learnt was 神. Along the way, I discovered that Chinese is a little like playing with Lego. Many words are a composition of parts. There is a 边 for speech words and a 边 for words depicting use of the hands like in 打.

I was thrilled to learn the word 心 because it is a stylised depiction of the actual human heart with the aorta, the pulmonary vein and the pulmonary artery. Clearly, whoever invented Chinese writing, had had some experience with hacking up a human. The word for "sit" is also super cute. It's actually 2 people sitting next to each other. Clearly, sitting is a social thing. One does not sit down alone. One sits with another human. In contrast, the word 杀 has no social aspect to its appearance, even though logically, there should be at least 2 people involved: the killer and the killee.

Interesting language.

The Husband is a quiet man, given to few words. He can sit quietly, reading and thinking for hours. I have learnt to ask him, "你是不是在修练?" because that is apparently what highly evolved immortal beings do all day (cf, 九宸 of 宸汐缘 aka Love and Destiny).

I am not saying that The Husband is a highly evolved immortal being. I am just saying that he spends the better part of his day at home reading and thinking deep thoughts, projecting all the strong, silent hero vibes of a 仙侠 hero. Haven't you noticed that all the 仙侠 heroes are quiet, introverted, expressionless, with no sense of humour... until a special woman comes along whom said hero feels greatly for, whereupon said hero braves dangers of all sorts and even dies (then comes back to life) all to keep said special woman safe?

Whilst I hope I am The Husband's special woman, I am most grateful that we have never had to go through death defying experiences. Then again, still musing, if The Husband has never defied death for me, how do I know that he truly loves me?

Hmmmm....

Kimly

Right in the midst of Covid19 in March 2020, Kimly did a shares buyback. I thought that it was a good sign. So, I started looking at this company's financials in more detail. It had a strong cash position. It's PE ratio is 12.93. Its dividend yield is 4.98%. The stock traded at a high of 55 cents in 2017 and was trading at 19c in the midst of Covid19, in Singapore.

The trading volume for Kimly was very thin, and still is, even though the share price has gone up to 22.5c, as at Friday 5 June.

Kimly manages kopi tiams in the HDB heartlands. It has a few downtown kopi tiams but not many. I figured that people in the HDB heartlands all need to eat. Even during Covid19, the kopi tiams in the HDB heartlands still see a steady stream of patrons. People need to eat and not everyone wants to cook.

Kimly's share price does not swing up and down wildly. It kind of stays flat. It is not a company that attracts much interest from investors. Its business is far from sexy. Yet, the company is in a business that is relatively recession proof. If I put money there, I may not make a lot of money, but I am assured of a steady stream of passive income.

In the midst of Covid19, I feared that some companies would go bust. I knew Kimly would pull through. So, I bought Kimly. Now, I own a bit of these kopi tiams that I go to every week.

Oh's Farms, by Jane Lee

This is one of the saddest day in my life, I was fighting back my tears when I was leaving the farm. Our farmer supplier & importer is ceasing their operation at end of this month, it has nothing to do with Covid. SLA is taking back their land to build houses. I have been working with Mr. Oh for the past 6 years, though we been poached by many suppliers over the years but I never once consider working with others because Mr. Oh is a very down to earth businessman with high integrity. Over the years, he has been keeping our veggies price low, top notch service. At times, we were short of veggies in the very last minute, he will deliver them personally so to meet our demand.

Today, when I saw Mr. Oh, he lost a substantial amount of weight. He told me during this CB, he and his team ( mostly are family members & a few foreign workers) work insanely hard to meet the demand of the locals cos many been panic buying. He was up as early as 3am to start work and end work till late night. He wasn’t complaining, in fact he feels it’s a privilege to be able to serve the nation during tough times like this. Besides for working hard, he is actually very troubled by the reinstatement cost* which will cost him near half a mil quoted by a few contractors. Farming is a tough business especially in Singapore, land & manpower is so expensive. He told me he doesn’t have the money to carry out the reinstatement, he did saved up a sum of money to make good so to meet the government requirements but certainly not half a mil kind of amount. He simply can’t afford it. He had many sleepless nights. I feel so so much for him, I told him I will help to write in to SLA for more feasible solutions.

I actually jokingly told him, just shut the door and leave la, is a Pte Ltd, what can the gahmen do. Guess what was his reply? In his own words : ”不可以啦，待会我公公来找我，我可以死，这个一传三代的名字可不能坏”...

Mr. Oh, You Are The Man, you have my full RESPECT

I reproduced the post above from my Facebook Feed. It is written by a lady called, Jane Lee.

As a gardener, I do have fleeting acquaintance with these farmers. This is not the first time I hear of how uncaring people from SLA are. The farming and horticulture industry does not have high margins. The businesses are nothing like Facebook or Twitter, where money is earned with a few clicks of buttons. Inasmuch as the government wishes to encourage high tech agriculture, it should also be mindful that the existing businesses need help to make that transition.

I have a very soft spot for Oh's Farms.

I go in there very often to buy pesticide free vegetables and button mushrooms. I had instant chemistry with the ladies at the vegetable packing centre, when they passed me a receipt on recycled paper, mumbling that they are a stingy family. I stared at her, with round eyes, and said, "Stingy is good. Stingy people live honest lives, and thrive. In a country where farms are discouraged, only the best farmers are still in business. I love stingy folks!"

It pains my heart to see that despite their frugal ways and sincere contributions, they are now caught in a bind. They simply do not have the SGD$500,000 needed to reinstate the land. Does the government think that these farmers are the Mark Zuckerbergs of the world? Or does the government think that these farmers are investment bankers and top lawyers?

In the past decade, Singapore has become a tough place for small businesses. There are rules and regulations aplenty. Rentals are high. Rental agreements are so one-sided that they are close to exploitative. The contracts weigh heavily in favour of the landlord. Individual tenants have no power to negotiate.

This is a country where the strong can exploit the weak in the guise of looking after their own interests. Even folks from SLA are said to shrug and say, "You just have to find the money to move your operations out and return the land."

This is not governing, you know. This is standing by to watch legal injustice hurt citizens.

If balance is not brought back, we will really begin to look like a feudal system where serfs work their butts off to pay rent to Lords of the Manor (i.e., the REITS or the government).

Plantation Teas

When The Daughter gifted me a Spring Tea Collection, I was disapproving. It was too costly for tea. Yet, precisely because the teas were so costly, I felt that I had to make the most of it. So, we have all started cold brew tea tasting.

At first, I thought it was cold brewing that did the trick. I cold brewed everything and found that for everything except these whole leaf plantation teas, the hot brews taste better. Basically, if you want to enjoy supermarket tea, you are better off hot brewing. These teas are designed to taste good when hot brewed. The mass production tries to achieve a standard taste using hot water. Taste experts have okayed the taste. 

We then all can buy the same tea from the same brand and be sure to get the same taste.

Single plantation teas are leaves plucked from specific tea plantations and processed according to the manner of that particular plantation. Each plantation has its specific terroir. 

What is terroir?

"Terroir" is a French term used to describe the environmental factors that affect a crop's phenotype, including unique environment contexts, farming practices and a crop's specific growth habitat. Collectively, these contextual characteristics are said to have a character; terroir also refers to this character. This character is expressed in the food produced. The notion of "terroir" is usually expressed in wine tasting. However, for even the most uneducated French country bumpkin, the notion of "terroir" is a daily indulgence. People will travel for miles to buy mushrooms from one particular farmer. Others will wait months for one specific farm to launch the year's bottles of olive oil, or the first batch of spring milk cheeses.

I think The Daughter has spoiled my tastebuds for tea. I am forever going to recoil from supermarket teas now, in the same way that I recoil from supermarket camembert and brie cheeses. Supermarket brie and camembert all taste like plastic. There is no depth of flavour. Artisanal cheeses are usually made with unpasteurised milk. This gives the terroir so much more scope to express itself. Camembert from different farms will taste different not just because the milk tastes different, but also because the probiotics inside the milk are different. These cheeses are not designed to taste standard.

As a young lady, I lived in a small suburb outside Toulouse. Our suburb had one crêmerie whose owner offered to let me taste his cheeses for free provided that I dropped by every morning to taste only one. So, everyday, I would drop by and let him pick my cheese. One cheese a day, every day for about 9 months. It was an entire education in itself. He was masterful in how he started with the young and mild cheeses, before getting me to finally try the blue cheeses. That was an epicurean experience to be remembered.

So now, I am doing the same thing with tea. Every week, I make a new cold brew from a new plantation. All are whole leaf teas. I write my taste impressions down and then, I refer to the taste description on the packet. It is great fun when there is a match!

Black Lives Matter

I am posting this in solidarity with those being oppressed in the USA. Every time I think Trump is at his worst, he manages to beat his own personal worst.

Now, he is cloistering himself inside the Presidential bunker at the White House, like some sort of contemporary King Charles I, or King Louis XVI and his wife. If they don't change this President out, America will descend into civil war, if it has not already.

Nasi Ambeng, Coba Coba

One of the best discoveries through the Circuit Breaker is Coba Coba. This place does delicious Indonesian food at good prices, and is only a little further down the road from Chong Pang Market. I am going there every day to tapau lunch this week! Yumzzzzzz!

Address:
156 Yishun St 11 #01-106, Yishun 760156

Ylang Ylang

We woke up on Sunday morning to the scent of ylang ylang in the air. The ylang ylang tree was heavy with white blooms. The air was thick with its intoxicating scent. The ylang ylang is a full-bodied womanly scent that conjures up images of Arabian princesses peopling stories from Scheherazade's One Thousand and One Nights. The scent is redolent of long soaks in an Arabian hammam.

M and I collected some flowers to scent the bedrooms. The fragrance lasts 1 day and 1 night only.

Too Much Dog For One Woman

Pistachio is too much dog for one woman.

Pistachio requires a lot of attention and affection. In return, he gives a lot of attention and affection. Ours is an affectionate and cuddly family but it is also a family that respects each other's personal space. All of us need alone time. We also respect each other's alone time. Pistachio has no concept of personal space and he also does not believe in alone time. He follows me into the bathroom for communal pooping, and waltzes about my feet as I shower. This dog is more intrusive than my own children.

After a few months, Pistachio is only just starting to stay calm when left alone in a room for 10 minutes. Pistachio believes that I cannot be trusted to find my way back to my study room from the bathroom. He must personally escort me there and back. Once in a while, Pistachio goes crazy happy. When this mood takes him, he zooms all over the place, bounds onto sofas and overturns things. He also gets into fierce altercations with the laundry, the floor cushions and all the electrical cords. I only have to turn my back for 5 minutes to later discover a scene of carnage: broken spectacles, chewed up clothes pegs, dented shampoo bottles, shredded toilet paper rolls. My warrior dog has vanquished all his foes!

Pistachio is too much dog for me alone.

So, I decided to share Pistachio with M and The Daughter. The amazing thing about Pistachio is this. He can absolutely still make all 3 of us feel loved and appreciated. He knows how to distribute his attention in such a way that none of us 3 ladies feel neglected, nor unloved.

As time passes, I do realise that the one of us 3 who loves him the most, is M. For me, Pistachio is only a nice companion dog. It would not shake my world to lose him. For M, it is different. 2 nights ago, M had a nightmare about being in a capsized boat, along with Pistachio and M's best friend. M decided to save her human friend first and then ran along the river bank after Pistachio, whose head dipped in and out of the raging river waters, yelping in terror. Then, Pistachio's head disappeared completely, and his yelps turned into silence. M was in despair. She told her friend, "I should not have saved you first! I should have saved my dog. Now, my dog is dead."

Down the river, M found the lifeless body of Pistachio, with a bleeding wound on his flank.

M woke up from her dream, frantic. She grabbed Pistachio from his crib and then hugged him to sleep for the rest of the night. For all of the next day, she kept Pistachio close to her side, worried that her dream presaged a terrifying reality.

This morning, Pistachio started screaming in pain. I turned around to find him with his teeth clamped onto the electrical cord, unable to let go. Electricity was buzzing through him, and trying to escape from his fur. His eyes were wide and bulging. M burst into the room like she had seen the hounds of hell. She cradled Pistachio in her arms like a Mother who had almost lost a child.

Now, M does not trust me anymore to dogsit her baby. I think I am far better with human children than dog kids. I mean, human kids don't chew through electrical cords!