pouvez-vous me prendre ici, sil vous plait?

Last post, I admitted to being a blog voyeur. Let me show you why.

I was reading The Wednesday Chef’s blog, as I do every once in a while, and came across an older post about her trip to Paris. I scrolled down simply because I was not in the mood to read but to skim. Then I spied the gorgeous morsels in this:

Which led me to the website of this little slice of patisserie heaven. Oh my. Deep breaths, deep breaths. How I miss Europe. It doesn’t have to be Paris. Or London. Or Geneva/Zurich. I just miss the food, that wonderful freshness, the subtle tastes….

Sometime earlier this year, the hubs casually mentioned planning a trip back to the UK next year as our big holiday. Noone had better tell me he was kidding. I would not be amused. At all. So, I’ve been deluding prepping myself by searching for cute lil B&Bs to possibly stay in during our holiday. I do so hope he’s willing to include a trip back to Suisse for me while we’re over there. There would be no torture so great as to be so near yet so far because I would so love to manger ici encore. Ms M, who came to visit recently, and I were reminiscing about the trattoria’s petit, chubby chef’s pasta and droolworthy pizzas.

Sigh, memories just don’t keep my tummy happy though. It HAS TO BE the real thing. *Hint*

Voyeurism

One of my favourite time-wasters is to blog-surf. I love surfing around from blog to blog and reading, skimming, eye-ing and drooling over someone else’s blog. Especially beautiful blogs that are filled with gorgeous design or food pics. Oh, heaven!

Is it voyeurism on a different level? Well, I don’t think so. After all, it seems that we all can be identified by our IP addresses anyway. So it’s really not as anon as we’d like to think it is :S

So, after all that blog-surfing, why can’t I be inspired to write on my own blog? Cos I like absorbing and viewing more than thinking and stringing sentences Lazy woman that I am, hehe.

A Moment of ‘On Lok’

The brother has gone off for a holiday in Hong Kong and Macau thereby leaving a void in Mother’s daily routine. Whenever he’s away, she’ll say her ‘sim kon mao on lok‘.

I know that’s a horrible phonetication (Is that a word??!! Haha, I’m making things up now!) of the Hakka dialect but heck, who’d know?? The literal translation I guess would be ‘heart/soul not comfortable’. It translates to meaning that there’s an uneasiness in her heart/soul. What she really means is, take me out for a car ride, take me shopping, take me anywhere but here! It’s a tireless cycle and an even more tiring one for the assigned carer of the day.

So when I get those rare moments where she just sits on our sofa and chills in front of the tv, I get to enjoy my own moment of ‘on lok‘ (comfort) and I treasure the breather greatly.