Cold all over...

I'm just really cold right now... You know the weather's gotten the better of you, when you're put on the least wintry bits you have (scarf, jacket, vest, long pants) and still feel literally, worse for the wear. As I dropped my kid off to school, I saw parents wearing what I would normally wear on a morning drop-off. The long pants and long-sleeve top was perfect for a 16C morning. So, I thought, but desperately, I wanted a beanie on my head, and could I have my socks on please?

The thing is, if one doesn't sport the start of a flu, one would feel that things are bearable at this point of the season, mid-Autumn. But once you get the nasties (that uncontrollable sneezing), there's no turning back. Your muscles ache; bones feel like jelly. You're thinking pots of warm tea, a good lie-in and reading of trashy magazines telling you about how this girl bagged her man after a butt-lift :) Whatever it is, there is still that one spot left in the vicinity of your resources that says, if you push to noon-time, one generally feels better (after popping the pills, of course), without the extra bed-time.

So, here I am in the office. Having outline my day; my week; I still feel a little blue. Hence, my writing rant this morning. But gosh, darn... I'm still feeling cold. I left a small crack in my window letting a cold draft in (I never did like toasty rooms). Dead leaves swirl about outside... dancing in the cold sunlight... I feel like going home to Borneo, Sabah and soaking up the sun's authentic self there. But it's a long way to go before the holidays. So, what's a girl got to do, but slog some more, dream up those dreams and hope the day ends well, and finds me with my feet up all snuggly by the heater...

Wendell came home with cup noodles last night. They were from his boss. The other day, he gave Wendell a snack-size packet of preserved/dried plums. "For your little boy", he said. He's always giving small goodies like these. A floss bun, a packet of drink, durian candies... These are very small non-essential things, and I thought of how benign they were. How insignificant 'junk food' like these were... yet this morning, I did a complete turnaround. I realized that his boss's intentions were wholly meaningful behind the 50cent, $1 snacks. For, it is in all of these small non-essential gift giving that enables the Asian in us to thrive, to feel that we're fostering sense of community wherever we are/go. And why not, I thought, since back home, I grew up in a culture seeing my elders occasionally but in a constant flow of giving samples of things that they have, whether they had harvested, hunted or bought them, and in turn, receiving like things. Many thanks are passed around. People talk at length about the over-abundance from their durian trees, or whatever. Yes, I remember again that people like to do this sort of thing among themselves to solidify friendship and continue that human bonding. A 50 cent cup noodle therefore is equal in value to a $50 worth of bumper durian crop. However small the gift, I am reminded that it is the thought that counts. And it is that selfless tradition to reach out and put aside our own cares for awhile, to say 'Hello, how are you?', is the brotherly love that makes the world go round.

Sometimes you don't care...

So, Mr. Pusskins did not win the 'Best-looking' trophy, and ran to his owner to tell her everything. "There, there, darling, never you mind. We both know that Madame Fifi didn't deserve to win." Mr. Pusskins went on to win 'Top Talent' instead, and lived happily ever after. With our goodnight story over, I went over the moral of the story with Kimo, and said something like, you know, if something bad or sad happens to you that you can always come to Mama and tell her all about it, and then you'll feel better. Yes, said my little one, but then 'sometimes you don't care...', 'sometimes you're sad and angry, and you don't want to listen to me'. Oops! Oh dear, sigh. Yes, sometimes I am sad and angry, but I will always care, and will try to listen to all you have to say, okay?, I say. So, goes the routine each end of the day, we parents reassure our offsprings that as they grow bigger, and as we let them venture out the front door farther and farther away from home central, that when they come back in that all the world's worries should collapse at doormat, and that within ourselves we claim the peace we have with each other. That nothing comes in between, and nothing ever will. We are family' we've family, and that's all that really matters at the end of the day.