Highlights of the Year

Maybe I over think of what can be improved, or what needs to be done going ahead, that I unfairly forget about the existing good things in my life, especially for the past year.

The annual medical test taken bravely after a weekend of feasting for Christmas had a good outcome. Interest rates had come down in recent months at almost the same pace as banks had raised it earlier without care for their customers. I have a vibrant team synergy at work. I enjoy responding to the challenges thrown at me in surprising contexts from a few smiling hyena types who snarl only behind my back.

The car had not given problems, except for some unexplained sounds, and I thought I was winning the war against garden weeds. More rain had fallen in an apparent break of the drought where I reside. The views of the neighbouring hills, either with a clear blue sky or topped by cloud and fog, continue to provide inspiring vistas when I come out of my front door, and I can feel the ocean breeze from where the sun rises. I can zip up to a capital city for diversions and maintain friendships, whilst coming home under moonlight on the same day.

I had grown in more than just acquaintance in knowing especially two new persons better, individuals with whom I found an inner calm and stability in interacting with and who joined me on the journey of an unfolding understanding. At the same time, I found delightful refuge in reinforcing relationships with friends and relatives who were always there for me from the beginning, whether residing locally or overseas. I feel privileged to be able to communicate - whether through simple emails or periodic phone conversations - with people important to me, far and near. I continued to feel the intensity and joy in cooking therapy. I rediscovered quality yogurt, found I could rely on certain people and was able to let go of garbage finally.

I paced up my personal travel, besides being caught up in round circuit trips between Sydney and the South Coast. I relished my return to New Zealand, fully taking in the special air and light that so I am attuned with. It was just so reassuring to see how my eldest niece had settled so well there with her network of friends. Then there were visits to my turf by people I have not seen for a long time, or catch up with on less occasions than I prefer, or by new friends. Such reunions gave unexpected joy and exchange of experiences to me.

I took significant oaths and relished my routines. I found less pleasure in just running around for the sake of it and treasured personal moments at home. I sensed the coming of change in America and Australia. Various people came into my life and showed me new windows.

On a One-Horse Open Sleigh

Love works in strange ways.

Like finding the right house or the dreamed of car, it can be a logical result or just a sincere surprise when we least expect it. Logic can defy the choice, feelings arouse the instinctive and the bonding defies whatever convention that may apply to it.

Rouselavata had been trying. He had retained sufficient hope to not unnecessarily close any window of opportunity. At the same time, he had developed a workable sense of realism in whom he preferred and what could translate further into a meaningful relationship. All these may seem hypothetical and good in theory, and unless he could apply all these in one real example, it remained good only in planning and on paper.

One week it all came together. Someone turned up. Someone who could click so well with him in his interests of music, style of mingling and getting to know each other. Someone who added to stability and a heightened sense of living. Someone who made Rouselavata glow inside and made him share his new found joy with close relatives and good friends. Someone who made him walk tall and let the whole world know. Someone he would love to ride with, literally on a one-horse open sleigh.

Rouselavata at times had passing moments of doubt as to how long this would last. He however knew how to enjoy it, no matter what. As he lay in bed in blissful oblivion, he played again and again a short sweet rendition of a theme so popular at this time of the year. "Jingle bells, jingle bells...."

Joyeaux Noel

The dessert spread could have been sufficient. White Sago in Malacca sugar; steamed nine layer cake; a large Australian fruit platter that had mangoes, grapes and more; Straits Chinese cassava pudding; the white top over green in a concoction literally called 'beautiful face", accentuating its over all smoothness; freshly baked curry puffs; and longans iced in jelly cubes from Singapore. We had more choices for high tea than in the Inter-Continental Sydney.

This was preceded by the mains that reflected the heritage of those who sat around the table. Fresh noodles swam around a prawn-based light spicy and tasteful soup in har mee, garnished by pork cuts, chili kangkong vegetables and prawn fillets. Glutinous rice had been boiled with two different types of fillings in the servings of chang, traditionally served in the Aussie mid-winter and associated with the Chinese Dragon Boat Festival. Indian pancakes prata were eaten dipped in a robust chicken curry cooked with well cooked potatoes. Succulent satay on skewers were enhanced by the accompanying gravy that evoked of more than lemon grass and marinade. For starters, I already had lightly toasted murugu, evoking of childhood memories with the Hindu Festival of Light. All were home made and a labour of love.

We did check out some lights in a neighbourhood on the way home. Christmas lights that is. It was also the eve of Hannukah and the night of the Winter Solstice in China, when the wholesomeness of life is symbolised in round little dough balls of various bright colours. These dough balls are made by all family members in unison around a table. It was a few more sleeps to Christmas.