Found this in one of the many newsletters that I received, today...
Joy is in release, so thankfully received,
Joy is in sorry, so sweetly mourned and grieved,
Joy is to be found, you find it through yearning,
Joy is in coming and going, waiting and watching, living and learning.
Norris Chumley
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Play Space Solutions that Work: Creative Nurseries and Toddler Rooms
Helpful ideas for creative and decorative ways to organize your baby's nursery and your toddler's play room.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Raya 2008 - The Journey Back to Kampung
I went back to my husband's mom's kampung in Pasir Mas, Kelantan, for Raya this year. Well, we went back there too last year but I didn't enjoy it then as much as I did this year. My boys were very small then - barely a year, and they were sick too. So, we had a pretty rough time. Sick children during festive period?? That is not something that one would like to have.
Now, this year was different. We travelled back to kampung by car (last year by train). We left early on Monday morning (29 Sept), "to avoid the jams at the bottlenecks", my hubby said. We started our journey from my in-laws' house at 0630 hrs. Not many cars yet. We passed Bentong roughly at about half-past 7. Had an argument in the car about the videocam. *sigh*...
Our first stop was at a surau somewhere in Raub, Pahang (I think), to feed Asyraff and bath him. He seemed to enjoy his time there. Aimar, his twin, was still sleeping. Probably tired because he woke up early that morning - so called bangun sahur lah! Done with the feeding and bathing, we packed and made a move. About an hour later we stopped again - at a mosque somewhere (I'm sorry I don't seem to be able to recall the name of the place) after Raub - this time for Aimar to be fed and bathed.
Now, this one stop was not as good as the earlier one. To tell you the truth, the mosque was big and nice on the outside but it was really dirty once you go near the toilets. Goshhh!! The smell!!! And the rubbish! I just cannot believe that some people would just leave their children's napkins like that! Yes, I can understand that it is not easy when we have children travelling on the road, but couldn't they just use their little brains and dispose their baby's diapers properly??? It was a very ugly sight the way they threw the rubbish. OK. OK. Maybe because it was early Monday morning, and the rubbish truck has yet to reach the place to clear them but still??!! GROSS!
Anyway, so we quickly fed Aimar and bathed him. Poor him, he was bitten by the ants while taking his bath at the tap near the rubbish bin (that was the only possible location for us to bath him anyway - the toilets were twice as dirty and they stink! Errghh! ). We continued on with our journey and we reached Gua Musang at about 1330 hrs where we stopped to feed the boys and give them time to do some stretching. We made a brief stop between Gua Musang and Kuala Krai to switch driver. I tell you, I was scared the whole time I was behind the wheel because of the way the other drivers drive their cars and also because of the long and winding road. Goodness! Most of the drivers drove their cars like mad men! No wonder accidents happen!
We switched again not far from Kuala Krai, and we reached Pasir Mas at about 1600 hrs. Ahhhhh....! What a relief...! We dropped by Che Su's stall just to give her a little surprise visit before going to Mek's house. It was an amazing sight - the jams, the number of people going around doing their last minute shopping, but the one thing that excite me was the festive feeling in the air... I felt like a child again...
Now, this year was different. We travelled back to kampung by car (last year by train). We left early on Monday morning (29 Sept), "to avoid the jams at the bottlenecks", my hubby said. We started our journey from my in-laws' house at 0630 hrs. Not many cars yet. We passed Bentong roughly at about half-past 7. Had an argument in the car about the videocam. *sigh*...
Our first stop was at a surau somewhere in Raub, Pahang (I think), to feed Asyraff and bath him. He seemed to enjoy his time there. Aimar, his twin, was still sleeping. Probably tired because he woke up early that morning - so called bangun sahur lah! Done with the feeding and bathing, we packed and made a move. About an hour later we stopped again - at a mosque somewhere (I'm sorry I don't seem to be able to recall the name of the place) after Raub - this time for Aimar to be fed and bathed.
Now, this one stop was not as good as the earlier one. To tell you the truth, the mosque was big and nice on the outside but it was really dirty once you go near the toilets. Goshhh!! The smell!!! And the rubbish! I just cannot believe that some people would just leave their children's napkins like that! Yes, I can understand that it is not easy when we have children travelling on the road, but couldn't they just use their little brains and dispose their baby's diapers properly??? It was a very ugly sight the way they threw the rubbish. OK. OK. Maybe because it was early Monday morning, and the rubbish truck has yet to reach the place to clear them but still??!! GROSS!
Anyway, so we quickly fed Aimar and bathed him. Poor him, he was bitten by the ants while taking his bath at the tap near the rubbish bin (that was the only possible location for us to bath him anyway - the toilets were twice as dirty and they stink! Errghh! ). We continued on with our journey and we reached Gua Musang at about 1330 hrs where we stopped to feed the boys and give them time to do some stretching. We made a brief stop between Gua Musang and Kuala Krai to switch driver. I tell you, I was scared the whole time I was behind the wheel because of the way the other drivers drive their cars and also because of the long and winding road. Goodness! Most of the drivers drove their cars like mad men! No wonder accidents happen!
We switched again not far from Kuala Krai, and we reached Pasir Mas at about 1600 hrs. Ahhhhh....! What a relief...! We dropped by Che Su's stall just to give her a little surprise visit before going to Mek's house. It was an amazing sight - the jams, the number of people going around doing their last minute shopping, but the one thing that excite me was the festive feeling in the air... I felt like a child again...
Thursday, September 25, 2008
My sister... Ethaq, and her passion for dancing...
I had a chance to watch the KL Hornbill Festival recently. It was organised by the Persatuan Warisan Sarawak KL, and the festival was the association's first project/attempt to showcase the culture of the many tribes of Sarawak. It was interesting I must say... And they did a good job in organising it despite the lack of resources in terms of manpower and funding.
But what I really want to write here is something else. I want to write about my sister... My second youngest sister - Ethaq.
I went to the event because my sister was involved in it. Ethaq has always loved dancing. She has been dancing since she was very small - in primary school. I've watched her danced many times and in various places, but it was different that day - during the festival. I intially thought it, "oh well, it's just another show that she's involved in". But what happened was the opposite. Those two nights were amazing, to me.
When I saw her coming out from the backstage with the rest of the dancers, my heart jumped! I thought, "Is that Ethaq?"... She looked very different. I mean, really different. No wonder I didn't notice her when she was on stage during the mock 'miring' session. She was seated right there at the front and I didn't noticed it! Even Ras didn't!
She danced the Iban dance, Bisaya dance, and the Melanau dance. She was very graceful. Demure. At one point, I even had tears in my eyes... I had tears not because I was sad... I had tears because I was overwhelmed with the feeling of pride of her. Watching her on stage was... I don't really know how to describe it explicitly, really. I was proud watching her doing something that I know she was so passionate about. I was proud that she was on stage performing the dances. On top of all, I was proud that one of those lovely young ladies on stage was my sister!
I went to both nights of the festival. I waited with anticipation for her to come out and dance. Never had I felt that way before. Never. Everytime she came on stage, my heart skipped a beat. She was lovely! (But she looked a little thinner than she used too. Must be because of the many nights of practice and rehearsals). I called my parents on the first nite hoping to tell them how proud I was with my sister. I wanted to tell my father to propose for a workshop on Bisaya traditional dance and music. To find ways to educate and train the youngsters on the Bisaya culture. Unfortunately, I didn't get to do it because my father won't talk to me... *Sigh* That's another story for another day...
Anyway, back to my sister. Since that night I have noticed that Ethaq has grown. She has grown to a beautiful young lady. I remember how she was when she was a little girl. She was funny. There were some funny incidents which all of us (my siblings and I) used to tease her about. Aahhh... Ethaq... No matter how quiet she can be, she can be really funny at times...
I guess we tend to take things for granted until that one fine moment hit us in the head and we realise that we have missed enjoying some of those parts in life that have passed us by. We won't know it until it happens. I didn't know it until it hit me last weekend.
I love my sister. She wasn't perfect. But I still love her. Quietly, and deep down in my heart, I am thankful to God that I have her as sister... I won't change it. Not in another lifetime...
But what I really want to write here is something else. I want to write about my sister... My second youngest sister - Ethaq.
I went to the event because my sister was involved in it. Ethaq has always loved dancing. She has been dancing since she was very small - in primary school. I've watched her danced many times and in various places, but it was different that day - during the festival. I intially thought it, "oh well, it's just another show that she's involved in". But what happened was the opposite. Those two nights were amazing, to me.
When I saw her coming out from the backstage with the rest of the dancers, my heart jumped! I thought, "Is that Ethaq?"... She looked very different. I mean, really different. No wonder I didn't notice her when she was on stage during the mock 'miring' session. She was seated right there at the front and I didn't noticed it! Even Ras didn't!
She danced the Iban dance, Bisaya dance, and the Melanau dance. She was very graceful. Demure. At one point, I even had tears in my eyes... I had tears not because I was sad... I had tears because I was overwhelmed with the feeling of pride of her. Watching her on stage was... I don't really know how to describe it explicitly, really. I was proud watching her doing something that I know she was so passionate about. I was proud that she was on stage performing the dances. On top of all, I was proud that one of those lovely young ladies on stage was my sister!
I went to both nights of the festival. I waited with anticipation for her to come out and dance. Never had I felt that way before. Never. Everytime she came on stage, my heart skipped a beat. She was lovely! (But she looked a little thinner than she used too. Must be because of the many nights of practice and rehearsals). I called my parents on the first nite hoping to tell them how proud I was with my sister. I wanted to tell my father to propose for a workshop on Bisaya traditional dance and music. To find ways to educate and train the youngsters on the Bisaya culture. Unfortunately, I didn't get to do it because my father won't talk to me... *Sigh* That's another story for another day...
Anyway, back to my sister. Since that night I have noticed that Ethaq has grown. She has grown to a beautiful young lady. I remember how she was when she was a little girl. She was funny. There were some funny incidents which all of us (my siblings and I) used to tease her about. Aahhh... Ethaq... No matter how quiet she can be, she can be really funny at times...
I guess we tend to take things for granted until that one fine moment hit us in the head and we realise that we have missed enjoying some of those parts in life that have passed us by. We won't know it until it happens. I didn't know it until it hit me last weekend.
I love my sister. She wasn't perfect. But I still love her. Quietly, and deep down in my heart, I am thankful to God that I have her as sister... I won't change it. Not in another lifetime...
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Precious...
Life is... Precious... At the moment, I have my thoughts on the lives of the people around me. I was in Ipoh yesterday for my husband's family member's funeral. He had just passed away in the morning due to health complications. Two days ago, I heard a news that a family member of a friend died due to someone's evilish act (she was murdered mercilessly). Barely a month ago and even until today, I have a close relative still being held as hostage by some idiotics in Africa. All these had made me thinking... "What is happening to the world today?..."
When I was at the graveyard in Ipoh yesterday, I saw a small tomb, probably of a baby or a child. I had a sudden gush of weird feeling in me - I missed my sons. You know that feeling? A feeling when somehow one day, out of the blue, you just remembered something or someone and it felt so strong that it makes you cry or angry or something? I had that 'moment' yesterday...
I suddenly missed them and it was so strong that I almost cried. I told Ras and he asked why, I said I don't know. Since that moment, I prayed hard that they would be protected from harm, and that we would have a safe journey back home, and I could then kiss them good night. Thank God... I did. They were not asleep yet when we arrived, so I got to play with them for a while before putting them to bed. Asyraff... Aimar... The apples of my eyes... The jewels of my heart...
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