non bloggers dont have this scary aura

met one such for bfast. RS isnt a blogger. but an occasional commenter… and she moved here to KL, a few months ago.

(and since every reader here is interested in the fine print here goes… @ her place
i ate
1. hot tikkis
2. chole
3. dahi vadas
4. fresh nimbu paani
5. dhokla

and much more…)

her almost 2 year old and baby param had a largely non-verbal argument about laptops. both wanted the one that wasnt working.:-)

RS was warm and funny and practical. and i totally enjoyed the chat.

**
and here’s the photo reva sent in. She won a contest held in this space looong ago. And really sweet of her to send me this photo of her husband’s birthday spread (featuring the place mats i sent)
hey! dont bother looking at what’s under the plate… look at what’s on it.
yum.

the un-attached bathroom

we weekend gotawayed to a place that had t h i s much space between the loo and the mini-room we stayed.

v.v.v. odd.

i have never lived in a place where the bathroom wasn’t at the heart of the house are at least at the kidney of the house . but here the loo was a whole half a kilometre away. the washbasin, even further.

see ma's saree in red. that's our room. see firstborn yonder wearing that silly ring. there was our bathroom. *gasp*

and other stories.

the place had a swing and all, but we were too busy counting the steps to and fro the loo trips

the mmmim thinks i am the paparazzi. honestly

a chinese mini temple. but it had empty beer cans nearby. So Gods do get thirsty, huh?

how hot water was arranged for our baths

ma and the grandsons

oh i forgot. it was a beach we went to

aaargh mom moment.

“I’d take the fox across first…”

said firstborn

after I’d spent a whole 20 minutes explaining this “problem” to him.

Suppose you are a boatman and you want to carry 3 things across the river. The three are: a tiger, a goat and a bundle of grass.

-You can carry only one thing at a time in each direction.
– The Tiger will not eat you. the tiger will eat the goat / the goat will eat the grass if left alone on a bank.
-You have to complete the transfer in a minimum number of trips.

**
1 small aargh moment for motherhood.
1 giant aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh by the MiM

that dont impress me much

when i was 16. i used to go “oooooooooh” over women who pronounced french words the french way, while speaking english. eg. a pince-nez, grand prix, renaissance etc

i thought it showed their pedigree. and i wanted to be their slave for life and join whichever finishing school they went to.

now. at 32. these are what i go “oooooooh” about…

—> when a woman tells me she can milk a cow. and that her cows yield about five to six litres of milk at a milking session.

—> when a woman volunteers to sit on the floor, at an informal party because all chairs filled with guests

–> a woman who learned swimming, by swimming in the river

___> a woman who can find and change the fused bulb in our fridge

—> a woman whose dog accompanied her to her village school (3 kms one way)

___> a woman who can make 250 samosas in 2 days

__> a nurse who slowly removed the sticky bandages off my bloodied blood clotted middle finger, while being gentle, kind and v.v.skilful

__> a woman whose first baby died, when he was just 9 hours old. and how she cries alone. everyday. in his memory. for the last six years. and she wipes away her tears before her 4 year old can see.

__> a secretary who bought eight expensive perfumes to give away for christmas, but gifted them to her friends and family before October

(all these women … i have met here in KL)

the middle finger

healed fast. homoeo speeded recovery 200 per cent.

the hand-surgeon was disappointed to let my hand go. (we were forking out fistfuls of ringgitt per nanosecond, or so claimed the mmmim)
**

deluged with party invitations…

in my case

1 invitation = deluge.
2 = catastrophe.
3 = run for your life

this bday party culture has got to stop.

**

and next i hear talk of diwali parties (*sob*) round the corner… why wont people leave me to my ‘tanhai’ …

been rofling@

WHY ARE ALL TAMILIAN COOKS, COMMUNISTS BY DEFAULT?
Because they can’t make their Dosa, Idli or Vada without the help of Mao.

all this and more at bladepakkiri.blogspot.com

laugh one laugh all…

my fav. ungli pj and other assorted pj’s

what do you call bruce lee’s finger?

ung-lee

and the rest of my fav…

what’s his preferred bfast
id-lee

and his favourite pastime

khuj-lee

and his fav. lunch

tha-lee

(all from my class XI friend K.)

the week with only 9.9 fingers

~ i bathed with one hand raised. v. peculiar
~ spilt milk
~ teeth brushed with my left hand
~ got the mmmim to brush baby param’s teeth
~ got firstborn to bathe baby param
~ made the kids wear dresses without buttons
~ ate idlis with my left hand
~ didnt comb my hair. left it to ma.
~ swallowed 10 antibiotics and about 15 painkillers
~ heard 3466 flip the bird jokes
~ recounted incident 465 times
~ the neighbours sent in bfast, lunch and dinner
(until mum came)
~ the mmmim learnt to make rasam for two days
~ didnt wash a single vessel. not even a spoon
~ scared off two friends from ever using the food processor
~ used the food processor again. but this time. switched it off. before i scooped out the veggies.

mim maimed

about a quarter of an inch’s worth of my right middle finger (the tip) got chopped clean off in the food processor…

(i was going to make french fries — but looks like i was making finger chips — v. black humour. i know.)

three hankies full of blood.
blood on the mmmmim’s dhoti
blood on firstborn’s shorts…
blood on the floor ( that baby param thought it was ketchup)

but. there’s good news. the bone was missed. and the doctor thinks the skin will grow back in a few weeks…
**
and there’s better news: ma is taking the next flight in.