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Showing posts from July, 2011

a late letter for july

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when month of july approaches, a particular subject starts to stain my mind. a bit blue and a bit rusted, the thought grows, drinking on unshed tears. i wish to be easy, laugh and tell you happy birthday, give you a hug and a bunch of flowers, just like the way they do on television. realistically, here i am, writing and erasing, dropping pencil and picking up a new pen.  taking another new card then soon to fold it in half, starting again.  a pile of discarded attempt.  am i being too complicated? or such subject naturally requires such efforts? i cannot tell anymore. so here it is, your birthday greeting, way behind, dripping into the lateness of days, weeks.  but perhaps it is all alright. if it creeps up, like the weeds in the most attentively tended garden, may be it needs to come up, breath, live, even when it may be an inconvenience, like a lone dandelion in pristine green lawn. you live a hard life.  busy in the middle of the bustle, especially with your husband and mothe

nourishing in alpha road

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lamb chop with anchivy-tomato sauce cook (n.): O.E.  coc , from V.L.  cocus  "cook," from L.  coquus , from  coquere  "to cook, prepare food, ripen, digest, turn over in the mind" from PIE base  *pekw-  "to cook" (cf. Oscan  popina "kitchen," Skt.  pakvah  "cooked," Gk.  peptein , Lith.  kepti  "to bake, roast," O.C.S.  pecenu  "roasted," Welsh  poeth  "cooked, baked, hot"). Germanic languages had no one native term for all types of cooking, and borrowed the Latin word (cf. O.S.  kok , O.H.G.  choh , Ger.  Koch , Swed.  kock ). There is the proverb, the more cooks the worse potage. [Gascoigne, 1575] i think while i am in my english greenhills home, i spend majority of the time doing something very specific: cooking.  i spend the most time physically in the kitchen (which gets the lovely late sun till the dusk and since it's been recently scrubbed, it's even more pleasant to be here).  i often wal

picturesque summer

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*roses from treasurer's house, yorkshire the summer is running away it seems- how does it do that? when i boarded the plane to cross the puddle with PO, i swear that it was going to be long-drawn-out-summer-thing- but here we are, on 21st of july and im only barely making a dent at the blog. thank the lord for digital photography. what would i do without it- except for making stuff up all the time? haha. anyways.  so i had a great birthday dinner, a sunscreen allergy that robbed at least ten days out of me (it was... brutal; clinique sent me a cheque for 17.50 for my suffering. ha...), thoughts on manners and amusement over mother-daughter relations. *i was a bit unhappy about that. is that it for the long, restful summer? well, then there were: visit to chatsworth with PO and minnow local walks- yes, sun does come up once in awhile,  though there seems to be no clue WHEN the steam train ride on matlock line, museum of industry and technology in manchester,  mediacity sa

manners, manners!

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recently, there has been much noise about etiquette- personal and general. the international sensation withers-bournes was an interesting one, however, unfortunately there is no shortage of manners regardless of location and population.  perhaps it is impossible to underpin why social grace is no longer considered important while everyone, the average joe, knows and gets angry when one perceives lack of 'respect' from another, regardless of the cause. there are several occasions in recent years that had grated my nerves to raw.  fortunately most of them does not involve massive collisions of personalities. or is it fortunate? often i feel the most difficult situation is the one that you arent directly involved: there is nothing one could do but to endure.  a former friend who has turned uncivilized, for instance, had created much drama and tears (in 'lack of consideration for her feelings' while i have repeatedly asked her stance and feelings before making certain thi