Wednesday 28 April 2010

Mix and match

Game and fun and Hong Kong taxis were both photos I took while ambling around the Mid Levels a few days ago, maybe a week ago, when the sun was bright and the skies, most unusually, were blue.  

Later that day I was happily minding my own business in Life Cafe eating a yummy salad, followed by the most fabulous vegan chocolate mousse cake. I started writing and, as it often does, this required me to stare out of the window for extended periods of time. There, staring back at me was the Plaster Sheep - don't you think, he does, in fact, look like a big old woolly highland sheep?

The glass that shattered/perspectives



Maybe Gecko has taken to making supersonic sounds, but whatever it was, something made the glass on the sideboard shatter today.

It was most startling, I have to confess. One minute peace; the next a pop and glass spraying around the room.

I was momentarily nervous, but then noticed how incredibly beautiful shattered glass is, so I spent a few moments taking photos before sweeping up the shards.

Beauty can be found everywhere.




Sunday 25 April 2010

In a definite mood

Fairy lights of all shapes, sizes and colours transformed the roof into a magical wonderland and an equally varied range of wigs transformed the people into their glamorous alter-egos. Vodka jelly cupcakes were received with excitement (mainly by Brits) or with suspicion and confusion. Amusement at watching people try to down them in a sexy, sultry fashion, only to realise that they required a squish and a hard suck to empty the contents - somewhat reminiscent of watching toddlers learn to eat. A decadent and fabulous night.

The strong breeze only added to the fun, last night, blowing up skirts and turning tops into sails, pushing women to the BBQ to heat their backs and buttocks. Today the wind dried the mopped floors, walls and furniture and the newly washed clothing that had ended up damp with melted jelly.

Definitely a good night; definitely a long day of cleaning today (four hours times seven people); definitely a welcome full English breakfast mid afternoon; and definitely looking forward to steak and film night tonight. Sleep will also definitely be welcomed when it arrives.

I am in a definite mood.

Friday 23 April 2010

Sadness in my heart

My Mama tells me that my dearest aunt is very weak and struggling to recover this time. Her zest for life is strong, but her body is not. I am so glad she managed to see her sister before the volcano spewed its ash.

For myself though, I feel sad. Again, I face uncertainty and I am not sure when there will be clarity on this one, although, I guess there is always only one certain outcome for all of us. The only question is timing.

I refuse to think about it until it happens. You cannot spend your life worrying about your death. Whatever tears exist behind my eyes will not make it into the open until their flow cannot be stemmed. Life is a celebration and where there is life, there is hope.

Thursday 22 April 2010

Walking in the rain in flip flops

I love walking in the rain wearing flip flops. So much.

My feet were dirty and wet when I got home, but warm too. It's been shockingly humid and hot today and the smell of damp air as it cooled before the rain fell was a wonderful thing. The smell of rain strong in the sky so reminded me of Croatia in summer when I was small, just before a storm. The only thing missing was the scent of the damp rosemary bush behind the front door.

It's the small things that make me happy. The small things and one rather larger thing that stands around 5'6".

Wednesday 21 April 2010

Back to HK

My mind has been wandering of late to home and ash. Not surprising I suppose, but I am determined to re-root here, just for another month. Perhaps telling you about my weekend might help?

After three breakfasts on Saturday, I set off on a hike with some friends. Monkeys were important, so we headed towards Kowloon reservoir on the MTR and decided en route which track to take. Feeling rather unfit of late I said "I'd prefer short and hard, to long and easy". Fool that I am. We opted for Needle Hill, so named, I thought, because maybe it might be hard to find (of 'needle in a haystack' fame). Turns out it was so named because it looks like a needle i.e. pretty much vertical.

It was a good hike though and very good exercise (still feeling it today). I started off by taking a photo of a cute little baby monkey, who, as I was taking the photo, decided to launch himself off the tree at me - he paused momentarily on a lamppost, giving me enough time to jump away. They learn young - I didn't even have my chocolate out at this point! A little later on, over the reservoir, we stopped for a bread, salami and cheese break. A rather larger monkey scared one of the girls as he came charging for the remainder of the cheese. A good strong stick waved towards him frightened him off enough to retrieve most of the packaging for the bin, while he happily sat eating the plastic wrapper once he was done with the cheese. We ended by learning some Filipino clapping songs which had me in fits of giggles. 

Anyway, hike over, Saturday night was Vietnamese dinner and drinks, while listening to an English guy with a trilby sing maybe Irish-style songs, accompanied by a cheeky wink and no less than three guitarists, two bassists and a drummer.

Sunday was sailing - my first ever. Now this was not cocktail and bikini sailing. No, this was not even a boat in my world. More of a trampoline on sticks. Hobie 16, I think, if this means anything to anyone. Wicked fun, but rather scary as I spent the whole time alternating between laughing and squealing while half blinded by sea spray and clinging on for dear life, swapping sides regularly to help prevent capsize whenever we tacked. The most fun was when we surfed a wave. So smooth and clean. It kind of reminded me a little of snowboarding, which I do miss and am determined to go next year. I loved the sailing, but have no concept of how easy it might be to do it, say, when the wind is gentle and the waves are non-existent. All I can say is, I am glad I had a life-jacket on!

Sailing was followed (oh joy of joys!) by Lemon Meringue Pie in Stanley, mixed in with whitebait and nachos. I know it's an odd combination, but it worked well. Happy weekend, only marginally clouded by the absence of my lovely man, who I am still hoping might be able to visit before I leave...

Tuesday 20 April 2010

My brother Stan and hairy planes

My brother Stan heard his first hairy plane in days today, while we were chatting on Skype. Well, he was chatting, I was being a little sister. He did a good job as GF2 (Godfather number two) today. Spectacular in fact. He has a wonderful way of making me feel better using logic and sensibility. Two elements I do not possess when I am in the middle of possession by the emotions.

Anyway, back to the hairy plane. He lives in Holland. If he heard a hairy plane for the first time in days, this means air travel is slowly returning to Northern Europe. I know the volcano is spewing again, but renewed air travel has to be a good sign. It really needs a GF2. The volcano that is. Mine stopped me spewing. Any volunteers for the job? All you have to do is use a bit of your logic and common sense. It'll work miracles, I tell you.

It is bizarre this situation and I can't quite get my head around it. I cannot imagine what it is like for you guys in Europe. Please tell me that food stocks are not yet depleting. I want to know you are all well fed.

Love to all. xx

PS While I'm mentioning him, Stan has a few blogs. There's one on moving to Norway, his progress with fixing up the old family Campervan and loads of information on  and experiences of cycle touring, mainly in Norway.

My brother Mil on attempts to detonate the internet

Well, I think this merits a mention, because I am rather proud of him. The Telegraph, it appears, likes his writing on why paywalls are so pernicious.

If you want the original, go to his site 21st Century Fix.

Monday 19 April 2010

Volcanic disruptions

My mind has been wandering down random rabbit holes since this whole volcano thing happened. Last time was in 1821 and it went on and off for a year. Imagine now, if we had this on and off for a year. Then, with no air travel, the impact was minimal except one rather cold summer, paintings of beautiful sunsets and Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, among other things. Now, the whole world is affected, one way or another.

I think about economic and life impacts, especially for the Icelanders who lived near the volcano, but, as with most people, I am most obsessed with my own little world. My siblings and European friends are enjoying the peace of a world with no metal machines in the skies, which I cannot quite comprehend and can only imagine somewhat poorly. Others are happy that they are still on holiday (extra free annual leave from work), somewhere beautiful, despite the cost impact of hotels for a longer period of time. I am happy for them, truly I am, as I am saddened for people who are experiencing difficulties and are less happy. Ultimately though, I am thinking of me and I wonder if this is a bad way to be.

My boyfriend can't come to visit me until someone offers him a plane to sit on. Going away for three months at a location that was a 12-hour flight away, seemed nothing in terms of distance. Now I have been made suddenly aware of how far away I really am. If all air travel were to be suspended, it would take me 30 days in a container ship to Rotterdam, then boat or train back, I guess. Or if it remained how it is right now, I could fly to Southern Europe, or Spain it would seem, and then come back overland. Suddenly, I am not 12 hours away. Suddenly I am between two days and a month away. This is so much further and I feel upside down on the wrong side of the world from the people I love.

I feel unable to make plans in the future, in case my visitor is able to suddenly come out and see me, all dependent on the whims of the weather, the cloud and the volcano - and, perhaps, the developments of those controlling air travel. I am living day by day, in a world of no plans. It feels free, but it also feels a little out of control. With no illusion of certainty, my world feels unstable and as I type this, I know, my world is no less unstable than it was a week ago. It is just that my illusion has been shattered. So, for me, this is a lesson in reality, acceptance and perspective.

Nevertheless, despite my new found wisdom and zen-like acceptance of reality (cue mild and gentle sarcasm), I plead with you little cloud, try some dispersion. It could be fun. Why don't you give it go?

Thursday 15 April 2010

Things you shouldn't do

The other day we dragged the sofa out onto the balcony and put on the fairy lights and sat there eating English muffins and parma ham, while listening to some music that I never heard before (not unusual for me). The stars were above us and the evening was warm.

The conversation came round to cameras and we compared SLRs. Of course, his is far better than mine and I tried out one of his lenses. I was amazed. It was like watching a 3D film - everything that had appeared in just two dimensions before, was suddenly in 3D view and amazingly detailed and beautiful. I was so excited with being able to see the detail all around me, that he fished out his binoculars.

Naturally, of course, we eventually found a semi-naked guy. He was wearing white boxers and at first seemed fairly decent. Soon I realised he could not keep his hand out of his pants. I think he must have had an itchy bottom. Then he hoiked his pants up so it looked like he was wearing sumo pants. I couldn't stop laughing. I wonder if anyone ever has the binoculars out on me. I'm higher up than most, so guessing probably not, but I'd better stop dancing around the flat in the buff, perhaps, just in case.

Wednesday 14 April 2010

HK skyline from the flat

First attempt ever at a panorama using Gimp. Well, since I used a traditional camera and stuck my panorama together with sticky tape, anyway. This is the view from the balcony a few weeks back.

HK fog - the photos



Finally, the photos I promised you.

I first noticed the fog hanging around in a stripe at the top of some of the buildings.You can see off to the left a little.






Then we jumped into a cab and got the Star Ferry across to the Kowloon side.

You can see the fog at sea level, at the bottom of the buildings and then sweeping across the top of a fairly low roof.





The fog rolled right over and covered up the Kowloon side too, until we could barely see anything.

Then we got the Star Ferry back again. This is coming into dock.







Last Star Ferry photo before home time and bed time. By the time we got home, my skin felt dirty and my lungs thought I was a smoker.

This was the day that pollution levels went through the roof.

Tuesday 13 April 2010

Blood red

My aunt is sick. She can't take any more chemo. The poison seems to be hurting her more than it is hurting the cancer. She had to have a blood transfusion yesterday. I wonder whose blood is running through her veins. I wonder if they realise the true value of what they have done by donating their own blood to a stranger. I wonder if they appreciate how much their act is valued by us, those who love her.

My Mama is going to London tomorrow, then Zagreb on Thursday. I am glad. She needs to be with her sister. I tell my Mama to pass on my love, to tell her that I hope to see her in June. My Mama replies "God willing." I hope, I hope, I hope.

P M T

I am so glad I got that grump out of the way before my visitor descends. Now I just have the agony of cramps for a few days. By the time he arrives, I will by grump and cramp free.

Today is warm and sticky with some sunshine and high humidity. Although my hair is rapidly becoming what can only be described as ridiculous, my skin is wonderful, as are all my mucous membranes. The first time they have been this happy.

I decided to take a break from writing while my eldest brother, Mil, reviews my first draft. I found I couldn't. I was inspired with an idea and wrote almost 8,000 words today. I have other ideas, all of which shall be sent when I have completed them.

Everything has a silver lining.


Mil's blogs: about Mil, 21st Century Fix and Cogwriter.

Sunday 11 April 2010

Twins

I've been waking up at 5.10am, every morning for the last week and I have no idea why. This is very unusual for me. I am normally a great little sleeper. This morning, therefore, found me insanely grumpy, for all of about 10 minutes until my housemate managed to distract me with his endless chatter, though I am left with the residue of a grump which I think will remain in my system for some hours yet.

Ever since the London bombings, uneasy nights have bothered me. For two weeks before those, I would wake every night following nightmares of bloody, dismembered bodies and I would see limbs all around my room. For two weeks beforehand and no longer. They stopped the night of the bombs. I never had anything like that since. I am sure one week of uneasy nights are nothing, but still, they make me slightly uncomfortable.

I was reading My Sister's Keeper last night too, which didn't help. I dreamed I was about seven years old again and I was with my twin sister and I was telling people I had leukaemia. I was crying, but more for my sister's loss, than for mine. The twin relationship is a very special one, something that I am not sure singlets really get. It is special and wonderful, but you do get used to that person being there always and that is not always a good thing. You have to try much harder to learn about being on your own and being your own person, because as a child everyone refers to you as 'the twins' and you get cards for the pair of you, rather than one each, so you start to send cards from both of you, rather than one each. You want to be on your own, yet you want to take your twin with you. You worry about yourself, but you worry more about your twin. Their well-being and happiness must be ensured (or at least on the horizon) in order for yours to be complete. The relationship between the sisters in this book reminded me very much of the twin relationship and I woke up missing mine.

I must be due on. I am never this grumpy usually.

Thursday 8 April 2010

Kid in the red sleeves

I took this one in the Man Mo Taoist temple on Hollywood Road. I love it in there. The air is full of smoke from the enormous incense coils hanging from the ceiling - signs telling you to be careful of ash falling on your head. People come in and out, waving incense sticks in the air and leaving fruit and flowers as gifts. Occasionally you hear the gong, when someone has made a donation. There is free incense provided near the altars and expensive incense to the right. I don't understand why people would buy, when there is incense for free. The atmosphere is busy, yet if you sit on the straight-backed wooden chairs on the right and the left of the temple, no-one bothers you, no-one notices you. It is peaceful.

The temple is to Man, the God of Literature and to Mo, the God of War.

Start from zero





I love this 'start from zero' graffiti. No idea if it's an ad for a club night, or just graffiti, or what, but I love it.








 
So next is a cute little water hydrant.

Wednesday 7 April 2010

A gaggle of baby tree people


It is cold and very windy here. This is the only thing of note. It has been raining pretty much all day. I did a half hour of yoga on the roof this morning and then the wind made me fall over, so I decided it was time to go indoors.

The wind is so strong that at lunchtime the trees fell over on the balcony (they're in big pots, not growing out of the balcony itself - the wind was not that strong). I had to rush out in the first pair of shoes I could find easily (not mine actually, I looked like a clown in what I think are possibly size tens) and rescue the poor little things. I raised them back to vertical and pushed them to the far left, as far away from the wind as possible and they are still huddled there in the dark, like a little gaggle of baby tree people hiding in the corner. I'll be able to see them from my bedroom window as I am curled up, warm, under my duvet, and I will feel sorry for them in the cold... It's like being on the top deck of Titanic out there, so invigorating and free, but it is very cold too. I am glad I am not a tree.

Tuesday 6 April 2010

What a random world

I discovered some random things today.
  1. It is impossible to name a folder 'con' on a machine using Windows.
  2. If you type 'Bush hid the facts' without the quotes into notepad and save it, close and reopen it, the words change to this: 畂桳栠摩琠敨映捡獴. Can anyone tell me what this means? (I do hope it's not rude).
Thanks. 

Monday 5 April 2010

Gecko and the Oreos

I found out today that Oreos have no butter or milk in them, to my initial joy.

Lying in bed, peacefully asleep, I woke to the sound of clicking and scratching outside in the lounge. At first I think Freddie, then of the girl in The Ring (given the size of the TV here). Then I thought to myself (despite feeling like a small child again): "Don't be ridiculous. You're a grown woman. Use some logic."

I thought perhaps it might have been the doorbell, which I know does not make a bell-like sound, more of a cracking sound, though what someone would be doing this time of night ringing my bell... Maybe my book delivery from England. Who knows how package deliveries work here? I bravely opened my bedroom door and there it was again: the clicking. I peered through the spy-glass of the front door: no-one. I lifted the mat in case they'd put a card under the door and it had got stuck: nothing. I opened the front door (hiding behind it) and looked down for a package: nothing. Then I thought perhaps the next door neighbour dropping something - the walls are like paper. No. His grille was closed.

There it was again: the clicking. Then a rustle. Now I didn't imagine that sound! I switched on the lights and headed to the loo. Might as well go, now I am awake. As I passed through the kitchen, the Oreos packet on the sideboard moved. I looked again and it moved again. A sudden rustle and a clicking sound. That was the sound. Then I noticed. Gecko clearly likes Oreos too and had got herself stuck in the transparent outer wrapper. I carefully removed the individually wrapped trios of Oreo and eased her out of her invisible prison. With a final click, she scurried behind the fridge. Honestly who'd have thought an innocent Oreo could cause so much trouble?

And why is the flat clicking so much this evening...?

Moving the rock

Change is frightening, but it is also a wonderful thing. The energy required to facilitate change is tough - like starting a rock rolling down a hill - but once change starts to happen, it gets a lot easier. We spend years holding the rock up so it doesn't roll and plants start to grow underneath it, so any movement requires a big shove. We don't set the course of the rock, merely have to give that almighty shove after checking out what paths it could go down... It will most likely find its own way though, regardless of which way you push it. Once you have shoved, movement is inevitable.

Friday 2 April 2010

Clouds in my living room

Now why, whenever I try to write 'living room' does it always come out 'loving room' first time? Slip of the fingers, or more meaningful?

I was working on the roof terrace today, as usual. After a while I noticed the clouds descending and the temperature was cooler - tiny shorts and a t-shirt no longer warm enough. I was cold.

I headed back downstairs and saw, to my surprise, that the living room was full of cloud. A most peculiar experience. White cloud, cool and damp, filling the entire living room. I sit here now and, of course, the clouds have dissipated, but it is windy outside still. Cool and windy. We had a little rain today too - first for me since I left the UK.

I miss the dry heat of Thailand and my friend Kathy. I had hoped to visit her in Chiang Mai over Songkran, but it seems I can only get there via Bangkok and I'm not so sure about heading to that city right now. Maybe somewhere else in Thailand or maybe in a few months. I have Thai baht still. I have to go back sometime...