A Recipe for Chick & Dill

The long holiday (CNY plus Maal Hijrah plus FT Day) has put me in a culinary mood. I spent a couple of days poring over my recipe books, looking at all the ones I haven't tried yet (and there are loads,I tell you!). Actually I'm itching to buy a new book - they're wonderfully good to read, and even helped me score some points in a quiz back in uni! But I promised hubby that I'll try each recipe at least once before I buy another book, and since I don't cook that often (and when I do I don't always succeed) it's gonna be a long time till a recipe book features in my MPH receipt!

Anyway, one of the books I already own featured Roast Chicken with Rosemary, which I've never tried but looked easy enough to make. So off we went to Tesco to buy the ingredients for the chicken dish (chicken, rosemary, lemon, potatoes) and load up on Bonuslink points in the process (I'm a loyalty card junkie, so kill me!).

Tesco had a selection of fresh herbs in packets. I was a bit disappointed as I was looking forward to the potted variety where I could line them up on my kitchen counter - like I really have all the space in the world for a row of potted kitchen herbs! The herb shelf listed rosemary, dill, tarragon and a few others. What they didn't have was the name of the herb on the packet itself. As if we Malaysians know our Western herbs that well! So I made a guess and picked up a packet, hoping it was the right one.

The next day, I promised Mak to have dinner at her place, since it was Maal Hijrah and she invited us to break fast with her (Hubby fasted, I didn't). I made lasagna (first time too!) and decided to put in some of the fresh herb I bought. I took a sniff at the stuff - didn't seem to have such a strong smell, so picked quite a bunch. When I started chopping it up though, the aroma filled my not-so-big kitchen. It smelt familiar, and since I don't know what rosemary smells like, it's definitely not rosemary. I decided to just chuck everything into the meat sauce and hoped for the best.

No one complained about the lasagna, in fact my sisters actually liked it. But the herb (which I later identified as dill) was too pungent for me in the lasagna, as I prefer it with fish. I'm hoping it will still go well with chicken, because I've got loads of dill and chicken but no fish. So just to remind myself of the two herbs, I got pictures off the internet:

This is DILL.

And this is ROSEMARY.

I need to get a chart with pictures of all the different herbs and spices so I get them right next time. Five more recipe books to go!

A Time for Change?

Change. Reshape. Transform. Mutate.

Change is a scary word.

It means having to let go of things and situations familiar, hence comforting, to you. It means someone somewhere feels you've been complacent and needs a bit of a shake-up. Which is fine when it comes gradually and you're kind of expecting it.

But change can also be an upheaval, a topsy-turvy, no holds barred roller-coaster ride that's taking you places you never even knew existed, like Pasir Gudang (okay, I know Pasir Gudang exists, but I've never imagined myself actually being there). There are so many unknown variables thrown into the equation, which you don't quite understand in the first place.

Especially when all this while, the way things apparently seem to be going, you've been expecting something the opposite. So now instead of going forward and upwards, you find yourself going in every other direction but. Why is it happening? When is it happening? What's going to happen to me? The strange thing is there had been rumours circulating for a while now, mostly among external parties, but a clear question and answer (at least I felt it was clear enough) kind of put a stop to that. At least, internally. Meanwhile, the cogs and wheels higher up continue to turn, shrouded over by all sorts of new improvement/transformation initiatives, getting everyone excited over the supposedly 'new' direction we're going in.

I'm also angry. Finally, after 5 years, I've found myself in exactly the right spot I want to be in, doing a job I'm happy with (although I whinge and whine about it, but who doesn't?), and what seems like a clear and bright path ahead of me. But if this change is happening, that path will reach a crossroads, and none of the available routes are going to take me where I want to go at the pace I'm comfortable with.

There are options, of course. But those options come with a number of different consequences. I suppose in a way I'm slightly better off due to an additional option that's been presented to me recently, but it's something I have not really been thinking seriously about. Seems like I'll have to do more than just enjoy the food and ambience at Mandarin Oriental this Friday. Now where did I put that 10-year career plan template?

Lost Entry: A Book Launch, A Wedding & A Funeral

I actually wrote a really long post last week, reminiscing an old school friend who had passed away, but by mistake clicked the wrong button and lost the whole thing. Drat.

My friend was 30 years old. I remember her as someone very tall, lanky, sporty, gregarious and generally lots of fun with a sharp mind. We were in the same English debating team back then, and represented the school in 1991 and 1992. In the second year, when my friend was in Form Five, we won the coveted Prime Minister's Trophy (PPM), a debating competition among government boarding schools. I remember how, when the results were announced, she punched the air and gave me a big hug, then when we stood up to take our bow we all couldn't help but went for another group hug. We were almost jumping about while our supporters in the audience cheered and clapped and sang the school song at the top of their voices. I won again the next year without her, and my sister, who was also in the 1992 team, made it four in a row (five, if you count the team she coached after leaving school in 1996). But nothing beat the feeling of winning it the first time with Ida.

Even back in 1991, when we were knocked out (unjustly, we felt) in the early rounds, we had a lot of fun at the competition that year in SMS Machang. There were more than 30 schools taking part, each with a Malay debating team, English team and basketball team with matches going on every day. We would all spend about a week in the host school, and the atmosphere was festive (It wasn't called Pesta PPM) for nothing. There were six of us in the team, and we always walked about in a group, laughing and joking, or going for a quick meal at the gerai makan that were set up in the school grounds. Even the week preceding the competition, when we were supposedly holed up in school during the holidays to prepare for the competition, we spent our free time cooking mini-sausages on Jan's sandwich maker, and making prank calls to people we hardly knew. One of our victims, a guy called Rick, got so mad at us that he started swearing and cursing. He earned the nickname Rico Perverto, an adaptation of Rico Suave, a Spanglish one-hit-wonder from Gerardo.

When I left for the UK to do my A-Levels, I would sometimes bump into Ida there. She seemed less gregarious, but then so was I, and we didn't quite manage to spend long enough time together to do all the stuff we used to get up to back in school. The last time I saw Ida was at KLCC some years back, when we had both started working. She left for the Hague shortly after that chance meeting.

Ida was suffering from MCTD. I read about Ida's condition a few weeks ago through an e-mail that was forwarded from another senior in her year. By that time, she was in ICU, and her friends were planning to hold a doa selamat for her on Saturday 17th. On the same day I was to attend a wedding and the launching of Mercy Malaysia's coffeetable book on their tsunami relief efforts. I decided to give the doa selamat a miss.

Friday 16th, at about 9.30 pm Ida passed away. I received several SMS, and one friend offered a ride to the funeral the next day. When we arrived at her house, it was packed with friends and family. There were a lot of familiar faces that I hadn't seen for more than 10 years. Ida's body was laid down in the front section, covered in a long batik lepas. We sat down to recite the Yasin, and at some parts I had to stop and take deep breaths as tears threatened to unsettle me. An ustazah then arrived to lead the tahlil, afterwards the men and some ladies performed the funeral prayers. By that time the van had arrived to take her to her final resting place, and it had started to rain again. I stayed back, waiting for my husband to pick me up for our next appointment of the day.

People who had met her in this last year said she'd become very thin and gaunt. I can't say for sure as I was unable to get a last look at her face, and I will always remember her as the vivacious 16 year old back in school.

Rest in peace Ida, may Allah bless you.

The eye of the Storm

Hubby's on a business trip to Miri for two days, so that means I'm staying at Mak's house again. And Nuaim has gone to bed early, which means I get to use the Internet, or read any of the three books I have lying about - so here I am!

Finally, after several frantic weeks at the office, we've achieved some semblance of order. It's pretty ironic that at a time when our manpower requirements have taken a dip, we finally have all five engineers available for the job. I am now cracking my head thinking of tasks to keep my juniors occupied, instead of running around like a headless chicken (I've never actually seen one, a real headless chicken running around that is) looking for some masking tape to put it all back together. But enough of office gossip and politics, be it of the office or national variety.

Nuaim's right eye, however, keeps throwing up new surprises. Just as the teariness seems to have disappeared, a ketumbit (stye?) came out on his right upper eyelid. Old folk's tales would say styes are the result of playing peeping Tom, just like getting a boil on the bum from sitting on a pillow. Anyway, it appeared when I was in Bintulu, and after some antibiotics and eyedrops it popped on its own within a week. But it's made a reappearance a week later, and Nuaim is always so difficult to deal with when it comes to eyedrops and eye creams. He usually ends up screaming at the top of his lungs, which of course worries Mak no end. Everyone suggests that I do it while he's asleep, but it's even more difficult then because he'll always turn his head the other way. So between Hubby and me we don't really have much choice but for one of us (usually me) to hold him in a vice-like grip while the other applies the treatment.

He's also prone to some very violent behaviour whenever he gets upset, embarassed or really excited. Whenever I come back home from work, I'm greeted with a report on how he's bitten Mak's arm or leg, leaving her black and blue all over. He bites me too, but fortunately doesn't leave any marks behind. He does, however, slap me on the head, then complains that his hand hurts, whenever he's told off. And sometimes it's not even me doing the telling off, but I'm almost always at the receiving end of his anger. Once, at a restaurant, we saw another boy his age playing about and kind of suggested they play together. Unfortunately, the boy decided to greet Nuaim by scratching his face and barking some unintelligible monosyllable. Nuaim didn't like it, but did he retaliate? No, instead he just stood there silently, looking very unhappy while pinching my arm with his sharp little nails. Adoiiii!

Sorted!

Your in-depth results are:
Hufflepuff - 14

Gryffindor - 12

Ravenclaw - 11

Slytherin - 7

Which Hogwarts house will you be sorted into?

I know at my age I shouldn't be so into Harry Potter, but once in a while it's good to let your inner child shine through, innit? Can't remember any character from Hufflepuff, though. Which house is Cho Chang from again?

Busy busy busy!!!

When I came back from my Hari Raya Hols, I was looking forward to writing a really long blog about all the stuff I did and places I went to with Nuaim. Unfortunately, due to my Lead Engineer's weird and self-torturing schedule, I found myself literally huffing and puffing through specifications, reports, design philosophies and a whirlwind site visit. LE's also complaining that he cannot get the manpower he was promised (we're supposed to have 5 but right now only 3 in our team) for the project. Itu la, dulu elok-elok ada sorang seed engineer, hang pi demob dia. Bila bos suruh ambik balik kata tak nak sebab budak tu kononnya tak pandai lagi nak buat kerja-kerja ni. Yang pandai-pandai semua dok sibuk dengan projek lain. La ni budak tu pun dah buat kerja lain dah, nak tarik balik pun dah susah.

My boss, in the mean time, is off in Manila, presumably headhunting for an engineer to replace the guy in Bintulu who's supposed to be the fifth element in our project team. Lucky him, timing his trip just in time for the Manila SEA games. I just hope there's some project trip to Germany or thereabouts in June 2006 that I can join. Maybe for the HIMA Safeguarding System?

Have to sign off now. Everyone's left the office already. Ciao!

Mummy's Birthday Boi

Nuaim and I share the same birthday. Does this sound like us?

Courtesy of www.blogthings.com

Your Birthdate: May 31

You're a pretty traditional person. If it's lasted, it's probably good. You seek stability - both in your career and your romantic relationship. In return, you're very loyal and predictable. Which is usually a good thing. Without a partner, you feel lost. Being with someone is very important to you. Your strength: Your dependability Your weakness: You hate being alone Your power color: Midnight blue Your power symbol: Shell Your power month: April

Power symbol: Shell.

I knew it - I'm working with the wrong Oil & Gas company. But loyal me isn't leaving, or am I? Jeng jeng jeng...