Festive feasting

Sometimes I wonder why I bother to cook on Hari Raya (Eid) when the neighbours are only going to show me up. :)



Oh yeah. L's birthday was on the same day. Roast lamb with mashed sweet potato and roast zucchini and carrots are a pale comparison to sambal ayam, mutton rendang and sayur lodeh though!



And guess which Doofus Dog head-butted the oven when the lamb was in there roasting?

Doofus dog

You know something's wrong when the house is too quiet and That Dog is nowhere to be found. Rupert wasn't in any of his usual sleeping spots and the only thing that kept down the rising panic as I looked round the house for him was that Queeni didn't seem very perturbed.

I finally found him in the corner of the dressing room. Earlier, we had taken Queeni to the vet for her annual shots, and after we got back, L had left her soft-sided carrier in there, next to a coat-stand. Roop had gone in to sniff at the carrier, had somehow got his head stuck in the carrying strap, and on top of it, had somehow got it twisted round the base of the coat-stand, probably when he tried to wriggle out of it. And there he stood, tied to the coat-stand and waiting quietly for rescue.

At least he didn't bring down the cast iron coat-stand. He did look rather relieved when he was freed. Queeni didn't give a damn, I think she probably thought he was better off tied up in the room.

Curry on

National Cook Curry Day was a week ago, and L was so pleased with the assam fish curry then that he followed it up this weekend with chicken curry.

On the shelf

Just back from a caffeine run. That's like 10 bags of Carrefour coffee behind the two big boxes of Marks and Spencer extra strong tea bags. Everything else on the shelf are dog treats and dog biscuits. We're all set.

Going green

There are now potted plants all over the office. Big, leafy plants two to three feet tall, placed in corners, at the end of cubicle rows, in between filing units.

I found out from the administrators that these plants were rented. I didn't know you could rent plants. The rental includes watering once weekly and a topping up of the hydroponic feed.

They are part of some workplace health initiative the organisation is undertaking, and my particular office is getting the first go at the plants, to sort of test drive the outcome. The biggest boss emailed that we were picked because we had the highest MC rate.

I honestly don't know how the plants are going to cut down on the sick rate. I think people are falling sick because they are overworked, and we are overworked because we are short staffed. New hires might solve things better than new plants. But I guess plants are much cheaper to rent than people.

Also, I remember from biology classes that while plants absorb carbon dioxide and give out oxygen from photosynthesis in the day, the reverse happens at night.

You wanna bet that the sick rate among the night crew will only get worse? Now, among other things, we have to fight for oxygen.

Starting young

There was a bit of commotion on the landing outside our front door yesterday afternoon (and the dogs joined in happily). Turned out that the six-year-old boy down the corridor had staged a run-by toy-throwing at the three-year-old boy across the landing. Yes, he ran past the open door of the flat, and threw a small stuffed pink dinosaur inside, freaking out the younger boy.

Now, a day later, the three-year-old's mother said he won't step on the bits of the floor where the toy bounced and landed. The toy is now sitting in the basket of his dad's bicycle, which is left outside the front door. The boy insisted on placing it there yesterday. Today, he seems anxious that the toy be removed and returned to "abang down there" (brother down the corridor). His mother explained that he feels the need to right things. A concerned L patted the boy on the head. The boy then scrubbed away at it. His father explained that he does that when he is touched, and will then run to the bathroom to wash his hands.

OCD sure starts early.

So does toy terrorism.

Weekend in front of the TV

Only the Brits will consider making a TV programme that retraces the journeys of a long dead poet -- The Scandalous Adventures of Lord Byron. And only a Singapore girl whose name came from Byron and who was mad about the Romantics when she was much younger will watch it. Rupert Everett as the narrator was the icing on the cake. The bonus is when he strips down to his skivvies and tries to swim the Hellespont. Even if he didn't cross it (a Russian tanker got in the way of this Leander), I think he out-Byroned Byron on that.

Impulse buy

Sort of. I was looking for something to wear in the office when the aircon gets chilly at night when the room empties out. I was thinking of a fleece hoodie. And then I saw this. Cut and styled like a leather jacket, but it's denim. Certainly light enough to wear here. And at 70% off. What's not to like?

It's criminal

Went to Borders to get a book today. And found them selling cookware. And photo frames and gee-gaws, all stacked aptly under "crime".