Saturday, 20 October 2012

Food Poetry Nonsense from September to October 2012


On the first day of September my true love said to me;

go and eat prawn noodles

make yourself fishy

join you I will not

but beside you I will play computer games.
On the fifth day of September my true love said to me;

shall I make you a cereal drink?

It's good for health

You like it a lot

It'll perk up your mood all the time.

On the tenth day of September my true love said to me;

How nice this risotto is

It is all chicken and vegetables

no E colourings and preservatives

keep it up my love, you'll make me

healthy but with a belly.

On the fifteenth day of September my true love said to me;

Doesn't look very appetizing

yet once you try this onion soup

you'll be all charged and smelly

but who cares because I'm all oniony too!
 On the twentieth day of September my true love said to me;

I am going to bake

show you my love

my heart especially

when it's all given to you.
 On the twenty-fifth day of September my true love said to me;

I want to eat fast food

make myself a pork burger

much fresher than plasticky Macdonalds

much more oomph than your mouth can take in one bite.
On the thirtieth day of September my true love said to me;

If I knew what life was about

I wouldn't be swimming to search for answers

I would be cooking for passion and

swimming for fish to cook.

 On the first day of October my true love said to me;

I am going to make noodles

but of a special kind

they will be as delicious as

hawker food style in Malaysia

you'll want more and more.



On the fifth day of October my true love said to me;

Bread is the most basic of food

bake it I will

with bacon and cheese

hearty enough for dinner.

 On the tenth day of October my true love said to me;

Eat your apples; two a day

easy to cut with apple cutter

even if you're lazy

you can still do it

come on, you boleh!

On the fifteenth day of October my true love said to me;

Chicken drumsticks here I come

make something with soya sauce

let it be golden brown and with

vegetables to brighten up the day.


On the twentieth day of October my true love said to me;

Let's have Mexican

go for chips and chicken with guacamole sauce

sweet vegetables at the bottom

heat up in the oven.

 On the twentieth of October my true love said to me;

The Lorraine quiche looks good

for tea shall it be

dinner we can skip

for this enormous pie is shared only with the two of us.
Now you see this bowl of chilly chicken ramen from Wagamama's Restaurant in Amsterdam....
Now you don't! It's gone, thanks to me...

Hubby's 38th Birthday

 Hubby celebrated his 38th birthday on October 3rd which fell on a Wednesday. He was working from home on that day and I had lectures at university. I was out of the house from 11.00 am till 6.00 pm. It is a change for me as I am normally home on Wednesdays when he is home. University life means lots of travelling - technically classes start at 1.15 pm and end at 3.00 pm but I take up to four hours in travelling time. I was home at 6.00 pm because I went to buy hubby a birthday cake.
I got hubby a cream chocolate cake from the department store HEMA in the center of Alkmaar upon reaching the train station. Hubby was pleasantly surprised. He was still working at the computer and we had the cake as our tea. Hubby had to continue working still after that.

His mother had dropped by earlier in the afternoon to wish him happy birthday and to give him a present of a flower arrangement with decorative fans on it which were on closer view, banknotes folded creatively into fans.
She had also bought him half a birthday cake. So we had plenty of cake to eat. It was nice that both cakes were of different flavours - the cake that his mother bought was a pure chocolate cake.

We went out for dinner in the Thai restaurant in Alkmaar at 8.30 pm. We were fortunate that the rain had just stopped. We ordered Thai chicken curry in the war. It is a chicken dish with three different types of curry making the same dish. I thought that the curries will be served separately but I think three different curries were mixed all into one plate.
 Perhaps that's why they called it chicken in the war.

Our other dish was a pork curry dish served in a clay pot, while the last dish was a tauhu (bean curd) chilly salad dish. We had our meals with rice.

The chicken in the war was really spicy but I enjoyed it a lot. So was the salad dish.

In the middle of the night, I had a terrible tummy ache from all the chilly. Hubby's tummy was not feeling too great the next day either.


But we had a nice time together in the restaurant. Hubby was feeling more festive now. I had initially bought hubby a computer game "Mists of Pandaria" extension set for his World of Warcraft. I was surprised to know that he actually had this game already, so I had to change it at the shop the next day for a refund. Nevertheless hubby was happy that I thought of something that he liked. He knew that I feel that sometimes he plays too much games.
In the end, I got hubby some shower gel from Nivea as I ran out of ideas of what hubby might want. I was not sure what other computer games he might like for I hardly know any games unless he tells me about it.

We are going to England, in particular London to celebrate his birthday again in conjunction with his sister and nephew's birthday next Friday. We are looking forward to the trip and I plan to give hubby another nice dinner since we had tummy upsets from the Thai dinner.

Food may come and food may go, but birthdays with hubby must be perfect in my opinion. Hubby is fond of Asian food and I am pleased. I am fond of Dutch / Western food now and hubby is neither pleased or angry. He says "just be yourself and that is the best of all." How sweet.

Although it is already two weeks since his birthday, I wish hubby the greatest birthday yet and may all his dreams come true! Your wife will see to it...

Chef Jonker's Philadelphia Pork

From a commercial on tv and from my initial interest in the dish but lack of commitment to actually make it, hubby took over the reins from me. He made Philadelphia pork which is basically an oven pork dish coated in a type of herb butter from the Philadelphia brand which is famous in Holland. He slices the pork fillet into half, marinates it overnight  and on the next day spreads the butter inside the pork just like one would do a sandwich. He then cuts bell peppers and adds them inside the tin foil together with the pork. Then it goes into the oven for forty five minutes at 180'C.
The dish is delicious and I feel like I'm having a meal in a Michelin starred restaurant. The sauce from the marinade is delicious and the pork is all buttery with a distinct herb taste.

It is a joy to be eating this meal. I didn't think that from butter you could get a delicious dish. Of course it's fattening but I will overlook this for now. Good things come with a cost; hence the saying "you can never have too much of a good thing", if this interpretation is right. You must strive for less and in moderation. Thus eating = living.

Or maybe it means the other way round - you can never have too much of something good because it is always getting better and better. It means that you can have more of it and appreciate what you have! Thus living = eating. Not bad at all I would say and definitely easier to follow.


Korma Curry Pork with the Couch Potato Chef

Feeling re-energized on a dreary-weather Friday evening, I decided to cook a proper meal with TLC (tender loving care) for hubby and myself for dinner. For two weeks, I had not cooked a proper meal - by proper meal, I define it as something which is not oven-baked, instant or tapaod (take-away Malaysian style). I was down with an inflammation of the tail bone; in simple words just lower back swelling. I was unable to bend down and could walk only very slowly. Hubby took one day leave from work to see to my needs. I felt very immobile. I could not walk without pain then. It saw me lagging behind housework, cooking, studies, my favourite morning sessions at the gym, piano playing in Almere and my new found interest in ballet. So happened I had exams too last week, and I was at an all point low. So when I found out that I didn't do too bad after all in the exams, my spirits were lifted. For all that two weeks of almost no-physical action, I was feeling sluggish and unintellectual given that I was brooding more than studying and lamenting the fact that my brain didn't seem to work like it did ten years ago at university. Oh, am I that old already?

I decided to make korma curry pork to celebrate my coming out of back pain, my exam results and for thanking hubby for taking extra care of me. For the past two weeks, our meals have been out of the box and didn't feel like mama's recipes; you know that feeling of sentimentality you taste when you're eating home cooked food even if you're faraway.
I cut mushrooms, tomatoes and pork fillet into cubes. Then begins the meat stir-frying part. My style is to toss and play with them as if they were dice in a roulette game. Makes it more interesting with an oomph factor in the frying, making me pay more attention to whether or not the meat is cooked.
I add in the Dutch button mushrooms (they are a bit flatter and whiter than Chinese ones) after the pork has cooked for a bit, but not completely. The reason is I always don't trust mushrooms - yes, that's right. I somehow feel that if I don't cook mushrooms long enough, I'll be poisoned by them. So I treat them like meat.

The mushrooms on their own are tasteless. So if I run out of ideas of ingredients which complement or match the food, I use mushrooms as an all-rounder food. Great tip, no?
 Then I add in the Korma sauce. It comes in a small bottle. I pour all of it inside. I wait for the curry to bubble for a bit, starting at the sides of the pan. Then I know it is really starting to cook and sizzle.

When the curry is all bubbly, it kind of reminds me of a hot swamp in those Piranha type movies where some giant crocodile or monster fish lurks beneath the murky waters ready to pounce as the bubbles get bigger and higher. So when the bubbles are big enough and spread towards the center of the pan, I know it's time to pounce - I do so by adding the tomatoes!
Tomatoes are my last ingredient in any dish because I like it when the tomatoes are still juicy instead of all wrinkly when the dish is ready. Some dishes I see here people cook tomatoes until there is nothing left of them. All you see is a strand of skin of what once was, instead of the juicy red flesh.

I stir the whole mixture thoroughly and with TLC. I felt it all coming towards me now after all the moodiness and back pain is gone. Last unseen ingredient - TLC!
I cannot help but add some Vietnamese chilly sauce inside for more fiery passion in the dish. The label on the Dutch korma curry says that it is only mildly spicy; and for Malaysian standards, this means that it is nil as the level of tolerance for Dutch taste-buds are generally low.

The chilly sauce is actually the one which is officially used by Vietnamese loempia (popiah) sellers here. Hubby and I always squeeze a long line along our popiahs when we buy them at the market to eat immediately. At 1.20 Euros per popiah, they really are doing good business cos when we walk together, we never fail to get one.

Finally the dish is all ready to eat. It tastes good and hubby likes it a lot. The next day, he made fried rice with it with the leftovers as I cooked quite a bit. I'm glad that this dish is the start of a more energetic me.

I hope that I would be able to cook proper meals at least three times a week. Nothing beats the creamy flavours of a home cooked meal. Now I follow hubby's style and try to make my dishes as creamy as possible. Maybe this is part from hubby's liking for cheesy meals. So I try to re-create it in Asian meals as well by means of adding santan (coconut milk). However for this dish, there was no need to as it was already creamy enough as the sauce is quite thick.


Pizza Oven Timing for Dummies


I was in Almere today and I went full-fledged Malaysian food. I ordered off menu, asking for char kuey tiaw (fried flat noodles). The food was delicious. The chef's wife gave me three types of sauce to go with it - sambal, atjar and "ma lai can" - that's what the chef called the last sauce. It was pork fillet with chilli sauce. I figured that that I had one too many sauces already so I took just the "ma lai can" and returned the sambal and atjar, not before offering the customer beside me the sambal. He said he had enough sambal too.

I feel that it is not good to waste, so I gave the little bowl of sambal and the plastic bag of atjar (yes, it was tied up in a plastic bag for me for some strange reason) back to the chef's wife, who is also the waitress. I said that one sauce was enough for me, and pst...pst...the sambal and atjar actually gives me a tummy ache. The food itself is good but not its' sauces.


For dinner, we had quick oven food. We had pizza, chicken nuggets, curly fries and potato pieces. I was silly enough to burn the pizza because I miscalculated the temperature required. The instruction on the box said that it must be at 225'C for 12 minutes. Our new oven could not be set to 225'C. It could only go to either 220'C or the alternative and highest temperature was 240'C.

I did a fast calculation and set it at 220'C for 15 minutes, and the top of the pizza was burnt black. I had to use a pair of scissors to cut off the top layer of the pizza so that it was still edible. My deduction was that a longer time was needed to bake the pizza since the temperature was lower, and I thought a mere three minutes would be fine. After all, what could three minutes do?

Boy, I was so wrong. After my shower, I checked the oven and found a black pizza. At least I was quick enough to shower within 15 minutes and check the oven in time. There was already a burning smell.

I told hubby about my wrong calculation. He said there was a way of calculating. I said we should eat first while the food was still piping hot. Yet somehow we got into a Mathematical mood, and I took out a pen and paper and did the following and the pizza was really cold by the time we ate it :-

The instructions were                            225'C for 12 minutes
So how many minutes would it take 220'C?  
This would  mean                                  220'C       X    12 minutes
                                                          --------                              
                                                            225'C

                                                            = 11.7 minutes

At first glance, the answer of 11.7 minutes seem good. No question about miscalculation. However what I failed to see initially was pointed out by hubby. It does not make sense if a lower temperature would require a shorter time in the oven. Duh...It struck me too that there was something wrong with this calculation.

Nevertheless, not about to concede defeat in producing the right answer, I tried another way.

             If                           225'C takes 12 minutes
             Then for                1'C, how many minutes would it take?
                                          12
                                         -------       =  0.053 minutes (see how minuscule a second it is)
                                           225          
   
             Thus                    1'C                 takes  0.053 minutes
             Then                    220'C             means  220 X 0.053 minutes
                                                               = 11.7 minutes  

Yet, still I got the same answer for this different method of calculation. How could this be? Common sense would tell you that the lower the temperature, the longer the pizza has to be in the oven. But why with sound mathematical calculations, the answer is not reached? Or maybe the law of pizza in the oven timing does not use mathematical calculations?

Hmm, I still did not get it, and have not got it till today. By the way, this meal we had was over a month ago and I did not finish the post until today. Any ideas, anyone?
                     
                                                               
             
           

Summer Highlights in Alkmaar

It is autumn now. You see it in the trees and the chill in the air. Yet I am quite nostalgic about summer. It seemed like ages ago that the trees were still green. Late summer is the most beautiful when everything is in full bloom. These photos were taken during at the Oosterhout park in Alkmaar while I was jogging back from the gym in the morning two months ago. This summer I am fascinated with all things tiny like insects on flowers. I know now how to distinguish between a wasp, a common bee and a bumble-bee. This is thanks to hubby for telling me, and thanks to me being stung by a wasp. Don't worry though, it was not painful (ok, maybe the wasp just settled on me and did its booty dance or maybe I have skin as thick as an elephant!).

According to hubby, a wasp is like the one you see in the photos here. The bumble-bee is smaller, yellower and brighter. It makes the most buzzing sound, and it is quite loud actually. The common bee is somewhere in between the wasp and the bumble-bee in terms of size and colour.

So what I have learnt especially from this summer are :-
(a) bee differentiation - a skill not very useful in my law studies perhaps, but useful enough to have that rare conversation with nature enthusiasts. Not that I've met any though...

(b) making sure that once I look up, I have to look down too - this golden rule came rather too late for me as I had stepped on a pile of goose/duck poo (I can't tell which is which) in my excitement of photographing these wasps on the flowers. The flowers were by the banks of the lake, and so happened it was a hot day which made the ducks/goose more prone to nature activities I guess.

Had I not scented something "fishy" below me, I would not have known...cos the yellow flowers were bright, the sun was shining and I was with my camera. Well, no pain, no gain, and no immersion in the scents of nature, good or bad!

By the way, the flowers actually have no scent at all, which was quite disappointing. I wonder what the bees see in them as they really love this flower a lot compared to others. Maybe like me, they're rather blind and go for the first flower that catches their attention.

(c) Ducks/Goose and all creatures which fly like me less during summer - try feeding a duck bread during summer and it scorns you as if quacking to say "Hey, don't insult me. I can find my own food." They don't rush out at you and can't be bothered for your bread, however fresh it is. Well, only the laziest ducks will come and appreciate your bread.

Try feeding them during winter when it's all icy and snowy. The response is, "Quack! Quack! You saved my life!" All ducks/goose and flying creatures including the fierce seagulls which can bite though garbage bags (nowadays a nuisance in Alkmaar but that's another story) zoom towards you like crazy. They squabble among themselves just for a piece of bread. They like humans more during these times and I must say, I like them more too during winter when they appreciate me walking in the park just to feed them bread. It makes my day and the sense of knowing that although I am not feeding people in starving countries, I am feeding starving animals instead. Let's hope that during summer, they remember me.

(d) Sunny days are rare, sunless days are aplenty - this summer didn't really feel like a "good" summer which Dutch people define. The temperature at its highest was around 30'C and it lasted for 2 days. There was a good whole two weeks (though not consecutive) of sunshine. The rest of summer was damp, rainy, cloudy and sunless.

No wonder people told me back in 2010 when we got married that it was a "good" summer. I didn't see the difference then because it was my first summer in the Netherlands. Then we had sunny days for months on end. This year mother nature rushed into spring with too much warmth and then for summer, it ran out of steam. Maybe that's why my crocuses (spring flowers) at the balcony did not grow, and the poor photographer in me was taking photographs of it everyday for a month to make a video of its growth...you know the type which slowly shows the blossoming from bud to flower. Here the bulbs grew, but no buds, no flowers. Then half way I stopped my amateur "science" project. Ah, what to do...

(e) Carry your own weather with you - this quote was not invented up by me, but by a book which I read. I now make this my personal motto. I try to make the weather in my heart sunny and comfortable enough for me all the time. Spiritually speaking, it's about creating peace in your heart. Outside conditions are immaterial to happiness. That way, whatever the weather is outside; how the wind may be blowing my hair silly and freezing my fingers stiff will not bother me apart from spending more money to buy a conditioner and gloves.

Summer came and left, just like all seasons, and all of time in general. What I regretted this summer was that hubby and I did not have the time to go camping at the dunes. Somehow we were occupied. We had a busy summer. Every other weekend, there was some party, family gathering or our own trips to Germany to the Black Forest for my birthday and our anniversary in Sauerland. Oh yes, I have to add we enjoy Germany's nature a lot - with its rugged mountains, waterfalls and diversity. Holland is so tame in comparison. We learnt more about the German landscape, I can say.

The best part of this years summer in Alkmaar were my jogging escapades around the park/road on the way home from the gym. It feels so close to home in Malaysia (literally and spiritually) minus the cheeky hoots from the trishaw rider who yells at me in his very honest way "makin lari, makin gemuk!" (the more you run, the fatter you get!) Needless to say, I can live without that!

























Tuesday, 4 September 2012

The Training of the Humans

A subtle meow to my dear readers,

A very welcome to my jot. As you know the regular writer has given me permission to write; or rather I had demanded that I write this post. We cats always get our way.

My name is Tigertje, and I am the grand dame of all cats. You see, I am already 24 years old. You may think that it is young, but do try multiplying it by seven to get my real age in human years. I am then 168 years old. My life story is as long-winded and fascinating as I am. Although I now live with the kind people in the Netherlands, I am actually French. I was found by the roadside on the French pastures by vacationing caravans 24 years ago. My mother was dead and she left a litter of kittens; all of whom were my brothers and sisters.

The humans had roast chicken with salad and potatoes on their arrival Thursday evening. I was so glad to see them. I was wondering if they were ever going to turn up. 
We siblings were all fortunate in that the owners of each caravan took us in as a pet. However we were all separated as a result and till this day, I never saw my siblings again. My owner and his family took me back to Holland by caravan and I lived with them for 18 years. I had a good life, and after those 18 years, they decided to move house. I do not know what humans are capable of thinking; sometimes their minds seem irrational to me. They left me in an animal shelter. Yet I was only in the shelter for a couple of weeks before I was adopted by my kind Mama and jovial Papa.

Providence has a way of working itself out. These humans turned out to the former neighbours of my previous owner and off I was to a new neighbourhood which Mama and Papa had moved to. I have been living with them ever since at the Nile Crocodile Road. 

Now I have gotten very old and I get cranky when I do not have human attention. I was a diva in my prime so naturally it takes perceptive humans to serve me. So when my Mama and Papa went for a holiday in London, they got their son and daughter-in-law to cat-sit me over the weekend. That was fine for me and I looked forward to seeing how I could get things done by way. Different people can be manipulated in different ways. What works for Mama and Papa might not work with my new proteges. 

They arrived on Thursday evening. I was very happy to see them as I had been alone almost the whole day with the exception of the neighbour’s visit to feed me the previous day. On Friday, the Brainless – yes, I would call the daughter-in-law that. She had no experience in taking care of cats. So I decided to teach her for a bit.

Gentle Giant initially wanted to make chicken fillets with butter filling ; famously called Philadelphia chicken based on the brand of the company. Yet he was too lazy to do so afterwards and opted for roasted chicken instead. I thought laziness was meant for us cat species only for my Mama and Papa were never lazy.
First I was angry with her because apparently she found window-shopping more entertaining than a cuddly cat like me. She left the house in the morning to Middenwaard, a shopping complex some fifteen minutes away. The Gentle Giant – that’s what I call the husband – sent her there by car. She was to walk back but alas Brainless got lost and arrived home half an hour later than expected. Upon reaching home, she had to check on whether or not I was still alive. She went charging up the stairs to my sleeping couch – that’s where I sleep very soundly indeed although I tend to sleep at a few places during the day. She just had to yell at me.

“I’m home now. You can come downstairs.” She said.

As if I would after her abandonment of me. So I carried on into dream world. To tell the truth, I am also a little hard on hearing but it's just a secret between you and me. Brainless then had lunch consisting of sushi and salad in the garden. I could smell the tuna from the bedroom, but I enjoyed the comforts of my chair too much to leave the room. 

At four in the afternoon, she fed me with my organic chicken pate. She gave me half the packet and I gobbled it all in one go as I was very hungry. Brainless seemed happy that I was eating the food.

On Friday morning, the first of September, the couple had omelette with bread for breakfast. This time the Gentle Giant was not so gentle with the frying pan for he practically burnt the bottom of the pan black while preparing this!  After breakfast he had to rush for work and left poor Brainless with the scrubbing of the pan. It didn't work either as the pan was just too black. Brainless then soaked the pan with washing liquid for the next two days and nights. I would say she got a little lazy here. 
Brainless had a web-cam session with her mother on Friday noon which proceeded in animated conversation. I wanted to make myself shown on screen and I sashayed past the screen showing my good figure. You would see that I am a handsome cat. I am not fat like most cats in this neighbourhood. I am slim and look great for my age.

Yet, I must have eaten too much. Half an hour later, I threw up right on the kitchen floor in a big puddle. Brainless complained to her mother about me. She got some kitchen paper to clear up my mess and then used washing liquid to wipe the floor. She complained that I was a naughty cat.

Well, and I meowed to her that I had a very delicate constipation. I can’t be blamed for that, can I? Have some compassion for my nerves.

The Gentle Giant came home for dinner. They had pizza because Brainless was too brainless to do any cooking in an unfamiliar kitchen. They watched the telly after dinner and I could see that Gentle Giant ought to get some exercise because his belly was bulging out offensively from every point of view. He calls it a prosperity belly akin to the Laughing Buddha but I call it a hot water bottle ready to explode.

Brainless loved the outdoors and would spent hours on end in the garden provided that the sun was not shining; or barely shining. She had an issue on getting too tanned. Friday noon was perfect for her as it was partially sunny and very windy outside. Beats me why she would want to freeze while having her salad; which was also cold food indeed!

I can never understand why humans act the way they do. In fact why would they want to serve me?  
The show that they watched that night was called “The General’s Daughter”. I was not interested and sought to distract them by walking on their laps; above their heads from the back of the sofa and right in front of them. I purred on them. I wanted to be petted, to be fawned upon and to be the Queen of the Night. And rightfully so, I got what I deserved. You see, the way is to act like you deserve it, and then ultimately you will get it because you are so confident of yourself. Instead of watching the telly, they should have watched me for I am the General's Daughter; if not by blood - by strength of character. 

While they were staying here, I functioned as their wake-up call. Every morning at about eight, I would purr at the door until someone opens the bedroom door. With my Mama and Papa, it is very easy. They wake up when I purr and open the door for me; letting me jump on the bed to be their lamp post. Come on, after all, they already had the whole night together! Gentle Giant and Brainless really tested my nerves. They slept through most of my purring and wouldn’t let me come in. Brainless said she was terrified of cats jumping in on her when she was in bed. Gentle Giant was too gentle to say no to his wife.

Sushi which Brainless had on Friday noon. Why, she did not offer me any. I would have love d the tuna seaweed wrap. 

They fed me a few times a day on that particular Saturday. I shall always remember it because I really felt like the Queen Victoria. I meowed and purred every two hours in the morning for food, and then in the afternoon, I drove Brainless crazy by meowing every fifteen minutes for food. She must have fed me ten times on Saturday afternoon itself while the Gentle Giant lazed on the sofa playing Final Fantasy on the computer. Guy, you’ve got to move it a bit! You’re not a cat, you know. You can't afford to sit sixteen hours a day.

I did not throw up because I was satisfied and because I ate smaller portions throughout the day. Now here is a diet tip. If you want to retain a figure like mine, you’ve got to snack throughout the day. Eat big portions and you will be throwing up like me.

They had a barbecue on Saturday and I could smell the aroma from the barbeque stand. It was nice being in the garden and I pestered Gentle Giant to give me some meat which he did. I am not vegetarian. I eat chicken meat and pork too. I wanted to lick the pan after they had finished their meal but they wouldn't allow me to, so I sulked and went back to sleep.

Look, I am famous enough to be represented in the Page a Day calendar . I did not charge them any modelling fee - this is my one regret till this very day. 
On Saturday night, they had pork pate for dinner while watching the telly again. This time some criminal show - “Criminal Minds” I believe. They slept late that night, even later than I. After the show, both used their own laptops. Gentle Giant found a sort of scratch-smudge on his laptop screen and asked Brainless about it. She said she didn’t know how that ugly mark got there. Gentle Giant tried to clean it up with a cloth and it worked.

Suddenly Brainless got her brain functioning. Alas, it was not in my favour so no plus points for her there. She hit bulls’ eye when she said that it was all my doing. I had purred my head at the computer screen and got my … ahem…saliva there. Well, it is nice to be reminded of me, no?

The garden of Mama and Papa is bright and cheerful in summer. You can see the cosmos - a type of aster species of flower and bramble berries climbing from the fence. Brainless loves to photograph the cosmos flowers and eat the bramble berries. I cannot fault her for her enthusiasm. She just roars with energy; flipping about the garden like a crazy puppy.

She did yoga, stretching exercises and leap frogs all on one sunny Sunday morning and as a result of that, woke the whole neighbourhood up with her clumsiness; and gave herself sore thighs to last another week.    
Come Sunday morning, I woke them up an hour later because I was dreadfully tired from sleeping late with them the previous night. They retired to bed at one am while my Mama and Papa usually go to bed by ten pm.

I finally got to go into the bedroom and pounce on the bed, courtesy of Gentle Giant minus his wife, who was already in the garden doing some leap-frog exercises. Very clumsy and making so much noise as if the sky was going to fall. She even got herself stung by a wasp who thought that she was a flower because she went too near flowers in the garden for photography. She also got herself pricked by a rose thorn all in the pursuit of photography. How silly.

“Darling! There is a bee on my hand. I don’t know what to do!” She yelled.

Salad for the couples' barbecue lunch on Saturday noon. They decided to take advantage of the good weather that noon itself instead of waiting for dinner time to barbecue. It is common knowledge to every human and cat species that the weather in the low lands is unpredictable. 
At this point of time, she could not distinguish between a wasp and a bee.

Gentle Giant was slow to respond as the blinders were down and he had to get dressed properly before he went out to the garden, as this neighbourhood is not very private.

By the time Gentle Giant came to his wife’s aid, the wasp had already flown away.

“Sorry darling, I had to find something decent to wear.” He said.

Brainless now had a numb right elbow. Strangely enough, she said it wasn’t painful despite the fact that the wasp had used its hind legs to poke into her skin, making up and down gravitating movements for some time as if drilling a hole into her skin.  

I'm trying to look pensive and melancholic here. I want to look like those brooding cats. This makes me very musical, no? I learn from the human world too. I see that musicians and people of artistic capabilities often brood. So can I, and what more, my eyes are bigger and starrier than human eyes. I do it better than any of you, no?
Later they had lunch in the garden. Again with the Gentle Giant cooking up a meal while Brainless did the brainless jobs of cutting tomatoes and nothing more. Brainless has his philosophy of not touching things which she is unfamiliar with. The Gentle Giant is more adventurous but can be very slow like a sloth. Together they make quite a pair, but I dare say they match each other perfectly.

They went out for a walk to the Park Van Luna; literally translated as the Park of the Moon. This is a place where there is a park integrated with an artificial seaside. This is our neighbourhood’s newest development. Thereafter they had dinner at a Chinese restaurant before finally returning to the house to check on me; and of course to make sure that I do not starve to death or die of boredom. 

My lovely garden outside where I can go in and out as I please any time of the day. Normally I take a ten minutes walk daily; no more and no less. I am no spring chicken, you know. 
My Mama and Papa arrived home soon after. I was delighted to see the dear old lady and her husband. Yet, maybe I’m getting a little too old for my liking. I am now sentimental. My heart was heavy to see Brainless and the Gentle Giant go home. I hoped that they liked me enough to come back for another trip.

I heard from Mama that she would like to go to France end of this month so I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the young couple will be back to my path of pampering and treating me the way I, the grand dame, ultimately deserves to be treated. I am not a bad cat, I am just a cat with attitude with a capital "A". 

Meow, meow and may peace be with you,
The grand dame,
September 4th, 2012