Archive for February, 2007

Visit to the public library

Published on 18 February 2007 in public library. 9 Comments

I walked to the public library on Saturday. The walk there was enjoyable and made me think about how little I walk around these days. There were a few people out for a stroll around the neighbourhood, too. I also enjoyed spotting the neighbourhood cats. I was quite surprised at the number of cats I saw (five of them, in the space of a 15-minute walk) - but no dogs. Maybe the dogs were out with their humans?

The public library was very pleasant. It was very easy to sign up as a member (all that’s required is some ID with your current address on it - that’s my new library card in the picture) and the staff were friendly and welcoming. They were putting up decorations and a display for the Chinese New Year and taking down the Valentine’s Day display, and one staff member offered me some crepe flowers.

I now remember why I enjoy the public library - I get to borrow books I wouldn’t otherwise look at: like the two Inspector Wexford novels by Ruth Rendell (the latest one, End in Tears, and an earlier one Shake Hands Forever, both of which I finished over the weekend), Attracting Birds to Your Garden, and Orchids in Your Garden. I had a look at their small Dutch language selection and was pleased to see Kwade Schuld by Peter Temple. That’s Bad Debts, translated by Paul Witte (De Boekerij, Amsterdam, 2002). It’s a pity their Indonesian language collection is currently around 90% schmaltzy romance novels, though. (The remaining 10% were books on Falun Gong.) I’ll give it some time and see if they get more in - I might ask for more variety otherwise.

What about you? Do you use your public library? Why? Why not?

Not celebrating

Published on 18 February 2007 in Chinese New Year. 4 Comments

We’re not celebrating the Chinese New Year this year, given Mama’s recent passing. I don’t think we would have been in the mood, even if it was the ‘done’ thing to celebrate after a death.

Mama was the person we consulted on cultural matters - how many oranges to give to uncles and aunts, how a distant relative should be addressed, the best recipe for [insert food name here]. I’m still finding it hard to believe she’s gone.

That said, it’s still good to reflect on the fact that this is a new year, and that life goes on. (I do like the fact that I get two goes at starting a new year, every year!)

Mornings

Published on 15 February 2007 in Baubles the Cat. 5 Comments

The mornings are very difficult for me at the moment. Long-time readers of this blog will know that some time in 2005, I took the radical step of waking up, and getting out of bed, at 5am every morning. I haven’t written much about this lately. I guess it’s now so much of my routine, that it’s well, become routine, and there’s not a lot to say about that.

Why is it difficult at the moment? Physically getting up at 5am is not the problem. The problem is that Baubles the Cat was so much a part of that 5am routine that there is a gaping hole in my mornings. I think Baubles loved the early mornings as much as I did/do.

Baubles usually slept on our bed, right next to my feet, and when the alarm went off I could usually sense her looking at me, waiting for me to sit up. Sometimes, if I lay in bed too long (usually listening to the 5am news or Asia Pacific) she would walk up and sniff my face. She had the cute habit of standing up when I sat up, and timing her jump off the bed for when I stood up.

She then hung around around my ankles while I brushed my teeth and washed my face, and hovered around the loo door. Then she’d sit at her bowl or at the fridge, waiting for breakfast. Once Baubles was fed I would make a cup of tea. On mornings when I was exercising, she never failed to check out what I was doing after she’d had breakfast, and would give me a vaguely perturbed look: “what are you doing?”

By the time I was seated at the computer she would have finished breakfast and post-meal grooming, and would come for a pat and a brief cuddle, and then ask to be let out into the courtyard for her morning constitutional. She often sat right outside my window, looking at the willy wagtails (they loved to taunt her - I think they knew she was a little less than agile) and keeping an eye on me at the same time.

After that she would come back inside and ask for a drink of water. Thirst satisfied, she usually went back to bed to snuggle next to M.

I keep imagining that I see flashes of white from the corner of my eye - but no, it’s not Baubles, walking by. All last night I kept hearing her purr (she had the loudest purr). I miss her.