The Olympic Torch Relay

Today was our country's turn to host the Olympic torch relay; a part of the flame's journey through 23 cities in five continents, arriving in Beijing for the 2008 Olympic Games in August. A 130-day, 85,000 mile journey from Olympia, Greece to China.

The relay was to kick off from Dataran Merdeka at 2.15 pm. The torch would then be passed to the torchbearers, making its way through the streets of Kuala Lumpur, passing several landmarks before ending at the KLCC about 6 pm. This is only the second time Malaysians will get to witness the historic event up close. She last hosted a leg of the torch relay in 1964 when Japan became the first Asian country to host the Olympics.

As Papa Bkworm's office is in the city centre, he managed to record a short video of the run. Since it took 44 years for the torch relay to be hosted here in Malaysia after the first time in 1964, I doubt I will live to see it happen a third time. I'll just have to make do with this instead......

A Most Fitting Illustration

It's Sunday today.

Friday and Saturday whizzed by so fast, I barely knew what happened.

What happened, ah?? *blur*

And tomorrow.....let's not talk about tomorrow, please?

I think this penguin and his friend demonstrated my sentiments perfectly ........

Daffodils

One of my all time favourites..........

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed - and gazed - but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Poem by William Wordsworth

**************

One wish in my heart is birthed within,
The bliss of the poet, will I share,
In a field of dancing golden daffodils,
A solitude, blissful; with not a care.

Dancing with these golden daffodils,
Their heads blowing with the wind,
I shall soar higher, higher and higher,
In my mind's eye; to places I've never been.

So now you may just understand,
How much this poem speaks to me,
More than some lines about golden daffodils,
But that my imagination shall set me free.

- Bkworm -

Can't sleep without you.....

There are two reasons that can render me sleepless at night. One is having too much to think and the other, not having my other 'love' on my bed - my bolster!

Yes, I am a middle aged woman and I still need my bolster. My bolster is affectionately referred to as 'lap cheong' (meaning sausage because it's long and straight in shape) in our family. I have had this 'lap cheong' with me for about five years now. It's no longer as 'solid' as before and in fact, pretty much out of shape but who cares - I still need my bolster as much as I did from the time I was born!



I usually sleep on my side and with my arms around the bolster, I feel comforted and relaxed. I guess that's how babies must feel when they have a bolster between their legs and their arms wrapped around one, eh? I am so used to sleeping with a bolster that whenever I have to sleep in a hotel, I always need an extra pillow as a subsitute for a bolster, just so that I can fall asleep!

A few days ago, my colleague was telling me that her sister who was returning to Australia after a holiday here, had to pack a bolster home because it's not something that is sold over there. And she, like me, is one of those who cannot sleep without a bolster at night. Her old one at home has to be replaced and hence, she's flying a new one back with her.

Does anyone else have this same need for a bolster just like us?

A short post camp report

The little munchkin has come home. From boot camp!

We picked her up from school on Sunday afternoon. As the group of youngsters slowly trickled out of the school compound, we, like the rest of the parents who were waiting eagerly outside, began looking out for our daughter. I thought I spotted her coming out of the side gate, so I got out of the car and began walking towards her. As the girl turned and walked towards me, I hesitated.

“Eh, I think I got the wrong girl.”

Fancy not recognizing my own daughter!

But she continued walking towards me. When she was about a foot away, she handed me her bag. I recognized that bag!

It was Little Bkworm. Tired and sweaty. She looked as if she hasn’t slept for days, her usually rounded face has lost some of its’ chubbiness and she was a lot more tanned that I last saw her, just three days ago. Which explained why I wasn’t quite sure at the beginning!

“Mum, don’t mind the smell. I haven’t bathed for three days!”

On the way home, we heard the gist of her three day camp experience; the games, the instructions, the daily exercise regime and the tough BUT fun times that she had. Once we got home, she took a long shower and then fell asleep right until the next morning where another school day awaited her.

I looked in on her several times during the night. As I sat on the side of her bed, I felt a little ‘sam toong’ (heart ache) to see my ‘baby’ so exhausted and yet incredibly proud of her that she had survived her first camp.

The beginning of more things to come.

Oh, by the way, can anyone tell me how to wash a sleeping bag?

The Butterfly And The Cocoon

Ok, I am guilty. I spied on Little Bkworm at her camp yesterday night. Her father and I drove by her school after dinner but we couldn't see a thing. It was pitch dark and all we could see were the outline of some tents erected around the field. Maybe we were expecting a group of youngsters sitting around a campfire and singing songs!

As we drove away, the truth suddenly hit me. Our children need us in their lives. They depend on us to take care of them and cuddle them when they are young. But once they reach adolescence, they break away. Not that they don't need us anymore but that 'need' has evolved. They need their own space as they grapple with being young adults. They need to experiment with different feelings and emotions; learning to deal with each facet of life as a teenager in the best way that they know how. And behind all these, they still need us to support them; no longer like holding their hands to cross the road or physically feeding them food. But rather to let them know that no matter what happens, we will still love them and be there for them. To guide them when they are unsure of what to do and not to judge them when they fall.

It's harsh reality especially when it didn't seem too long ago when she can't sleep without a goodnight kiss and hug from us. When you love your kid, you want to protect them from all of life's hardships and hurts. You wish you can take that blow instead of it hitting your kid's fragile heart. You want to keep them safe from all of the world's wickedness and selfishness. But you know you can't because they can't grow without the frictions of life.

I love the story below....

A man found a cocoon of a butterfly. One day a small opening appeared. He sat and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled to force its body through that little hole. Then it seemed to stop making any progress. It appeared as if it had gotten as far as it had and it could go no further.

Then the man decided to help the butterfly, so he took a pair of scissors and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon. The butterfly then emerged easily. But it had a swollen body and small, shriveled wings. The man continued to watch the butterfly because he expected that, at any moment, the wings would enlarge and expand to be able to support the body, which would contract in time.

Neither happened! In fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled wings. It never was able to fly.

What the man in his kindness and haste did not understand was that the restricting cocoon and the struggle required for the butterfly to get through the tiny opening were God's way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly into its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it achieved its freedom from the cocoon.

Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our life. If God allowed us to go through our life without any obstacles, it would cripple us. We would not be as strong as what we could have been. And we could never fly. (author unknown)

In the middle of the night, I was woken up by the sounds of heavy rain outside. My thoughts immediately went to Little Bkworm, sleeping in her tent out in the open field. Will she get wet? Or will she be cold? Is she sleeping well? Many questions went through my mind. I prayed and asked God to watch over her even in the rains and I went back to sleep.

Surely God who made that beautiful butterfly will know how to take care of her too.

The Home Song Stories

(spoilers ahead.....)

I've been very busy these last few days. Haha.....busy watching DVDs. Unfortunately, as with my long list of unread books, I have an equally long list of unwatched DVDs. So I told myself, enough is enough. And it really helps when the owners of some of those DVDs have been hinting like mad that they have been 'missing' their property very much and I am so guilty of not returning them quicker than I should. Oops! Anyway......


I watched this fantastic movie called The Home Song Stories on Thursday after putting it off for more than three weeks. When my colleague lent it to me, I saw the cast list and the only name that was familiar was Joan Chen. Frankly, I have never watched any of her movies but have read enough of entertainment magazines to know that she is one of the very few Chinese actresses that have made a name in Hollywood. It is a story about a Shanghainese night club singer who moved to Australia in the 70s with her two children and how she lived her short life, filled with sorrow, distrust and discontentment. And her poor kids!

She was largely dependent on the men in her life and yet unable to sustain any relationship due to the past. Watching her begging and crying each time her 'men' showed signs of leaving her was heart wrenching. It makes you want to shake her and tell her that she ought to stand up for herself and be strong for her two children, a young son and a teenage daughter. Joan Chen was splendid as the struggling mother.

The story was told through the eyes of her son and is based on a a true story. This Australian released movie has won many accolades and awards. If you can get your hands on this movie, I think you, too will enjoy it as much as I have.

Here's the trailer for The Home Song Stories..........




* Update to previous entry - I've a few friends who have since asked me how they were going to 'hug' me or encourage me or just share with me their experiences through their comments if I had deactivated the comments function. Truthfully, I missed those too. So, I am now back to square one. *perplexed at myself*

Blog Friday

It’s Friday and it is blog time again!

Yes, it does look that way, doesn’t it? Most of my posts of late were posted on Fridays. I haven’t had much time during the week to sit down and blog. Usually, I just breeze through my blog roll and then I am done with ‘blogs’ for the day. Having said that, I still feel terribly guilty, not checking for comments and replying to them before they become mouldy! I find myself fretting about it all the time and it’s stressing me out completely!

When I read Mumsgather entry on Death By Blogging, I know exactly what she meant. As a means of self control (mine), I had deactivated the comments function to prevent ME from fretting unnecessarily AND that I will not feel so bad when nobody leaves any! My late mother would have aptly described this action as cutting off your toes to avoid the earth worms! Go figure that one out.

Nothing much on the office front. Work seems to be seasonal. I still bring my work home on some days, though with much reluctance but work is work and it has to done! Yet there are some days when work’s a breeze and I am actually happy to be working again. The office will be relocated to a new building in the next couple of weeks, so there will probably be much to do until we all settle in the new place. Time to flex these under-used muscles for some serious heavy lifting when that happens. There are few things to moan about but who knows who may be reading this blog, so office gripes are better kept within the four walls of the home, yah?

I am feeling pretty ‘empty-nesty’ today because Little Bkworm had just left for school and she won’t be home until Sunday afternoon. She will be away for school camp under KRS (Kadet Remaja Sekolah), a cadet unit for youths. Actually, I am glad that she is taking part in this kind of outdoor activity. Last year when her primary school organized a similar camp on teambuilding (and I thought teambuilding exercises were for working adults only!), she refused to go, saying that she would miss home …. or rather, the comforts of home! This year, she volunteered and was the first one to hand up her permission slip! How does one figure out the mind of a teenager??

Whatever it is, I shall look forward to some couple time with Papa Bkworm. Maybe tonight we shall go and see if there are any discos left in town and by that, I mean, discos that play retro music. Who knows, eh?

Can you picture this….old bkworms jiving to old music? LOL!!

*Night fever, night fever, We know how to do it,
Gimme that night fever, night fever, We know how to show it...*

It's time to go job hunting, isn't it?

As my late mother would often complain to us - "The king himself is not anxious, yet his eunuch is more anxious than he is." ......Wong dai mm kap, tai karm kap...., I now fully understand what that means!

Phoenix has finally finished his college education. And thus, it is time to look for a job. But is he in a hurry to be financially independent (at least, off his parents' payroll)? It doesn't look that way at the moment. Sigh!

As a good and concerned mother, I gave him lots of tips on how to write an impressive CV. I believe I flipped through the classified section of the papers these last few weeks far more than I ever did when I was looking for a job for myself years ago. You don't want to know what other things I did to clear the path that he may find the road to getting that first interview a lot easier. Sigh....maybe I had done too much. Should I just leave him alone to find his footing in this brand new world of adulthood??

I wonder if he is fully aware of the stiff competition out there to get hold of a piece of the employment market? I was at the JobStreet Career and Training Fair yesterday afternoon and the entire exhibition hall was filled with youngsters, all like eager beavers, sniffing out for the best position suitable for them. At my insistence, Phoenix had gone over for a look-see a day before (which was the first day of a three day event) and he came back, not too impressed with whatever he saw there. I REALLY don't know exactly what he is looking for. Maybe he has his own plans. I don't know.

Papa Bkworm thinks I should just leave him alone and let him find his 'way' around. He should be old enough to take responsibility for his own life from now on.

Maybe I am just too anxious......wanting the best for him. Wouldn't you do the same for your kids?

My Mother's Mouth

I woke up with a start in the middle of the night and couldn’t go back to sleep. My tossing and turning must have woken Papa Bkworm from his slumber because he woke up long enough to ask me if everything was ok before he fell back into deep sleep again.

In the silence of the night, aside from the soft whirring of the fan at the foot of the bed, I could hear my own breathing. I close my eyes tightly, hoping to drift back into sleep but my thoughts floated to the time when my mother was lying motionless on the hospital bed in the middle of the family home, waiting to die. It’s such a cruel description but essentially, that was what it was.

A part of me knew where these thoughts were heading and I tried to steer myself away from them, yet the other part of me continued to re-live my mother’s final days on earth. I can still hear her voice in my head. She used to call me, Ah Wai (yes, that is my Chinese name), a deep and low voice, gentle but firm. I could hear that same voice asking me how the work day had been. And that same voice that turned angry when I didn’t accede to her wishes which I had thought, at that point of time, to be unreasonable on her part. That voice.

And then, the shape of her mouth when she laughed, when she spoke, when she called my name. Her mouth had the shape of a ‘ling kok’ (water caltrops), curved slightly upward at the ends. It reminded me of Fung Bo Bo’s mouth. Towards the end of her days, that beautiful mouth became a perpetual shape of an ‘O’. Her lips were dry and cracked, no matter how often we dabbed it with soft, wet cotton wool. She couldn’t close her mouth completely, yet out of that opened mouth, there came no sound. As silent as the eyes that kept looking up at us, her children and grandchildren who were tortured by the sight of her suffering, wanting to lift her out of her intense suffering, yet unable to. The mouth that could no longer call my name or call out to those who loved her so much and who would give anything to have her well and smiling again.

The tears welled up immediately and I cried all over again into my pillow.

An Old Fashioned Potty

"Ewww.....THAT'S yucky!"

Little Bkworm screws up her nose in disgust. I was telling her about the use of the chamber pot when I was her age.

I wanted to post a picture of a chamber pot here but I don't have one right now. For those of you who were married the traditional Chinese way, you'd probably know what I am talking about. The chamber pot is usually coated in enamel, red and white in color and sometimes adorned with the picture of the Double Happiness.

When we were little girls, my sister and I used to have one of these chamber pots in our room. It was for us to relieve ourselves in the middle of the night, without us having to leave our bedroom to use the toilet outside the room. After urinating, we were supposed to cover the pot with a wooden cover.....eww....yeah, I know....

The next morning, we would turns to empty the pot in the toilet, wash it, to be re-used at night. I think we lived with that routine until much later when we were old (and brave) enough to find our way to the toilet in the middle of the night.

I think the only potty one sees in this day and age is the kind that toddlers use for potty training, so I can't blame Little Bkworm for balking at the fact that I had used one right up to my teens!

I wonder how many of you out there have ever used one?