my one resolution is divided into seven smaller resolutions. each of which promises to be a bittersweet battle with myself, with hundreds of temptations stocked around this flat; with memories of failed battles in the past…
A mouthful of sugar and i am supermum today.
so who does that make me tomorrow?
1. gulp. no more payasam — and that means no kheer, no samea, no kadalai maavu payasam — not an urnful and not a spoonful
2. no sugar in coffee– bleddy! this makes coffee taste foul. so make that resolution one point one A: NO coffee in 2009.
3. no chocolate chip cookies — actually i don’t even LIKE cc cookies, i just eat em out of habit
4. no vanilla ice-cream: pity, because the ice-cream here is rather creamy, melty, light…
5. no simply sugary moments: we buy more white sugar than rice every month. i rest my case
6. no carrot halwa: this is the recipe that has given me celebrity status …
7. *sob*…no condensed milk: cut to 18 years ago when i got a tongue gash and a cheek gash and still kept licking straight out of the tin..
yesh. stuck my neck out with this post. let me see if i can hit 365 days staying sugar-free.
*Happy New Year*
putting OJ’s award pic up on this blog WAS ROCKET SCIENCE!!
*wipes off a payasam moustache with back of hand* hah!
i keep wanting to do a year-ender post.
some people do it really nicely and thoroughly like D did on her site
~ i hop on to my train of thought. it’s this silly old train that doesn’t stop at the station I intend, and distracts me with vada and cutlets even if I *gasp* am not in the mood.
After a feeble protest, I look down at my oily fingers that have turned vermillion having dipped themselves in watered-down ketchup.
Erm, where was I?
How about a year-ender with the ‘moment of the year’ post?
Would that be the one when I am hanging up the clean nappy at 11.15 p.m. and clothespin my finger instead?
or how about the ‘why-don’t-you-HUSBAND-handle-this’ feeling of the year: was that when half the tin of nivea creme was a dollop on one cheek of the first born /or actually was it when first born reached in and adoringly touched the water flushing in the toilet bowl/
no. strike that all out.
actually should end it on a happy tralalal dumdee dum note:
how bout the best advice ‘ever’ on cooking ladies finger/okra: (this is from a school friend who had her first cooking lesson in 1993 when her mum went to Trichy.)
“whatever happens don’t keep vendakka in the pressure cooker…”
and in all these years,it’s worked for me…
today, the husband spent more time with his inner child than his biological child.
he sharpened colour pencils, copied out a picture of an airplane, flattened himself on the floor and did some — erm –colouring.
thus went half the morning
and thus went half the afternoon as well…
objective gripe: the airplane looked like a turtle with a headache
subjective gripe: biological child was asked to watch and not colour, and just ward off wise-cracking mums
I can marry who i please
i can silence you with a look
i can curse you every day
i can stop you from reading your paper
i can flirt with your best friend,
I can earn a lakh of ruppees a day
I can forget a meal you packed
I can break my mother’s heart
I can embarass you before your family,
I Can bury our newborn daughter
I can pour kerosene on your body,
And light you with a match.
But you, woman, must
pin your duppatta
with two safety
pins even if
it would be scary to meet a blog buddy
i can write with my tongue tangled in my upper palate…
i can write while forgetting to rhyme,
I can mispel, and type this on a crate,
but while meeting up?
isnt it like a blind date?
the words wont come out right
and my hair-oil can be quite overpowering
i am beginning to take the shape of a milkmaid tin myself..
with a completely absent waistline.
just last week, i spotted a shadow of a curve around the area above my hips… and one award and it just vanished
just for that OJ! you get to motivate me to touch my toes and do swedish exercises seven times in the afternoon.
PS: i think i overdid the celebrations, made hundreds of holed-vadas, passed around urns of payasam and gave one new reader the impression that i got two butterflies —
actually grand total is one wonly!
and i am concentrating REALLY HARD on the instructions on how to upload the picture here,
*some head scratching*
*some more head scratching*
*new wrinkle added on forehead*
looks like i need some serious hand-holding when it comes to technology.