Daysleeping

It's been a long time since I lived in winter, much less autumn.  I'm used to summer temperatures lasting through October and popping up again in December, I've thought for a long time that the breezy, sunshiny perfection of coastal Texas in January makes up for its swampy summer, and you know I've been enjoying Singapore's fragrant, heavy air and the cool breath of the sea in the shade even on the hottest days.  There's something in me that wants the leaves to change and fall, though, and the nights to cool, and the days to shorten and grow dark, little by little.  I feel like it's a cultural thing and a human thing, that we acknowledge the dying of the year and our own mortality, that we offer gratitude for abundance while preparing ourselves for scarcity. I'm not finding Autumn here in the enduring greenery and the unchanging days, and I'm glad that I'll be traveling soon to a place where I can get a much needed dose of fiery leaves and c...

This isn't the first time I've driven on the left, exactly.  A long time ago a friend of a friend in Liverpool asked me to drive his car home from a night out, as he'd observed me nursing the single pint my narrow pocketbook would allow while he'd had considerably more.  Here's the thing: his car also had a manual transmission.  I BELIEVE, firmly, that I can drive a stick when I'm not behind the wheel of such a vehicle--it's my inherent megalomania coming into play.  This is not a belief that's necessarily based in reality.  My siblings may yet grow a little pale when crossing a certain bit of road where they faced death as I stalled out repeatedly in heavy traffic.  That one night in Liverpool, I did get my friend's friend's car back to his house without major damage.  I'm pretty distractible, in general, and on the road that night I discovered that it's not a good idea to have ANY distractions when you're trying to concentrate...

This book came out this spring, and though I almost never buy a book rather than borrowing it (because I would bankrupt nations if I had to pay to feed my reading habit), and usually if I do buy it, I'll wait stubbornly for the paperback to come out, I pre-ordered this one.  I've read some short pieces by the author that I've liked, and I thought she might have some practical tips about where to go and what to do when traveling further afield with kids.  I was also in the midst of spending a lot of time thinking about what defines home, and it seemed like this book might be kind of destined for me. If you're interested, I'd probably give it four stars out of five.  It's interesting and thoughtful and heartfelt.  I'll happily send you my copy if you'd like (and if you're willing to wait a few weeks for it). I read about half of it before we left in in June, and I picked it up today because I've finished my library books, we don't have wi-fi or...

I'm not entirely obsessed with food (maybe?), but I do like to eat, and a good portion of my job is to feed people.  And they have to eat all the time, like three times a day, so much of my struggle at this point is figuring out how to put food on my family (thanks forever to George W Bush for that turn of phrase). With luck, I need to make reasonably healthy, fresh food that my children will actually eat, in reasonable enough variety that I'm not super bored making the same stuff all the time. So yes, I make it harder than it probably needs to be, but I like the challenge of doing anything well, and there does seem to be a unique heart-tummy connection. When I make their favorite foods, I'm not only nourishing my children physically, I'm also loving them in a tangible way. That's a widely accepted thing, right? There are foods that make you feel better because they're love-foods, and there are certain meals for everyone that make you feel immediately at home.  ...

Stuff I had to take pictures of today on our short walk from the library to downtown.  It's like this place just grabs you by the shirtfront and says LOOK AT THIS!!

DISCLAIMER: Today's post is about the toilet in my new apartment and my experiences trying to figure out its many functions. If, like me, you share a sense of humor with your average nine-year-old and think that butts and bodily functions are HI-larious, please continue reading.  If you'd just rather not even think about such things, no worries, but skip this entry and please come back another time. So, I'm going to need to name my toilet.  I've spent more quality time with it in the past 24 hours than I have with most humans in the past month, and it even leaves the light on for me. We are kind of at the defining our relationship stage of intimacy, so I need to at least know how to address my new friend, but there's no way I can approach a glowing toilet bowl in the dark, y'all.  I've seen all the 80s horror movies, and I know for sure that's the kind of situation where something alive reaches up and drags you down forever.  It's a good thing I have...

We visited the National Orchid Garden today. If you like flowers and the British monarchy, come enjoy my pictures. If not, this is probably not the post for you.  My children aren't really fans of either flowers or the monarchy, but we rode the MRT to get there, and I bought them fries for lunch and let them get a map of the garden and navigate, so they humored me.  I also didn't object to their desire to sit on every bench along the way. Yes, every bench. Which means we were there for four hours.  To be fair, it was 1.3km from the station to the orchid garden and then again to get back, so there was a good bit of walking, and it was hot. We also saw turtles and flying squirrels, so it wasn't only stuff I was interested in. But the orchids were amazing.  My favorite section featured orchid hybrids that had been specially created to honor the visits of political figures from around the world. I'd love to know how they decided which flowers might best suit each VIP, bu...