Wednesday, May 26, 2010

For Once Too

... I would like to invite you to where colours such as these

Thank you so much Zafirah.

Thank you so much Mr. Isa

Thank you so much Azareena.

...come to play.

My Australian friend, Miss Redhat, has been bugging me to let her take a peek into what seems to be my play pan cum work station cum kitchen cum workshop cum laboratory. A place where the heart beats the most, the aroma smells the best and the laughter drowns the rest. It's my office, I would like to call it, so that the kids take me seriously whenever I have to work extra hours there, ada la rasa professional2 sikit ;o). So next time if you called in and asked me of my location and if I told you I was at the office, you'd know exactly where that is.

This is definitively not an entry to exhibit how sophisticated my kitchen appliances are. Nothing fancy stand to work in my kitchen. Many are surprised to learn I do not own industrial sized electric gadgets such as the oven or mixers. What I have is a manageable size for me to buy and to use, adequate to produce all the cakes that you have seen here in my blogspace. I am not a big time operator folks, just another home baker juggling between many other responsibilities granted upon me.

and jeng jeng jeng...

Welcome to my Office folks!

This is considered the office area where orders are received and sketched invisibly in the air. I don't do pencil sketches of any kind. Soooo not professional of me.

This is the mixing, baking and rolling the fondant area. As you can see I only have two below 100rgt ovens placed atop my kitchen counter. Both are presents from my lil sis. Thanks Da.

There you have it Miss Redhat. This entry is for you.

Have a beautiful long weekend now folks. To all who are celebrating Wesak tomorrow, Happy Wesak Day!

Monday, May 24, 2010

For Once

...I am good with all that is said and done. When things are just meant to be, wriggling free is not an option. You just have to embrace them wholeheartedly and always look at the brighter side of the hill where the sun lends its shine. And a hill I did climb literally, huffing and puffing all the way up, acknowledging all my weaknesses along the way. I am not as fit as I thought I was. The last hill I climbed was Gunung Lambak, which was 14 years ago, when the muscles were much stronger, the will much steadier and the weight much lighter. Ascending a gunung then didn't leave much after effect in comparison to climbing a hill now. Several days after and it was still ouch ouch ouch all over.

A sweet blogger friend spurred me into this climbing act and I am just glad I did. Thanks Edi. The kids and the other half enjoyed the experience and insyaAllah we would make it a regular affair.

It's true what they say .."it's the climb". The climb that composes you. And I am far from being a complete compositon. I am still work in progress.

ooops gotta go, got kids to fetch and send and fetch and send and fetch again.
Broga Hill May 2010

Monday, May 17, 2010

Flowers In My Heart

"Mama nak apa for Mother's Day?" A question most awaited since I had so many on my mother's list. Among others were tidy rooms, neat drawers, finished homework, brushed teeth, combed hair(without mama telling every night and morning!), kept plates and glasses, sorted out laundry and the list seemed to go on and on. As I was just about to sweetly blow their faces and hair with my requests, I suddenly turned poetic on them.

"I want flowers..."

"alaaa mama, we don't have money to buy you flowers" reasoned my daughter.

"I want flowers my heart" I went to finish my sentence. They looked at each other with eyes extra wide, eye brows extra raised, noses extra kembang-ed and mouths extra rounded. There were no more questions after that, only answers on their faces. Apparently they knew what I wanted beating me to it. And naturally it should be a surprise and the surprise should only be revealed after I came home from class that Sunday.

Thanks so so much Dora!

So off I went to class last Sunday carrying an empty vase in my heart. I knew it would be filled with flowers when I returned home, abundant of flowers of all colours. The kids called me almost every other minute, reporting their good deeds and how they have been nice to each other which I doubted aplenty...knowing them. I was just happy to know that they were trying, the least a mother could hope for.

The moment I entered the front door, adik blurted out all the surprise and kakak smacking adik for doing so and there and then they had a fight...aiyoo.

My flowers?

Kakak had the table set for tea with nuggets she fried to a perfect crisp and cake I made the day before all dressed up with Mother's Day wishes. The Adik took out a crumpled card which he has been hiding with a picture of him holding hands with me with lots of love. And the best of all when he showed me his homework all written legibly, neat and tidy with lines so straight I almost cried.

And then they asked,

"...mama happy tak?"

I crooned "...happy sangat."

" happy mama?" A question they always ask everytime they did something nice.

"...happy macam ada flowers in my heart." and they jumped yayyyyyy!

Now ni tgh make room in this heart of mine for more flowers in a bigger vase for my husband to fill it up, heeeeeeeeee.

Tried a few tricks on Picasa and came out with this. Thanks again Dora!

Monday, May 10, 2010


I didn't want to come back and write, especially regarding things which have become indistinct to my sight and senses. I chose to feel numb to avoid anger seeping in. "That's the best way to go about it..." I said to my other half. We were both sitting on the bed cross legged folding clothes and making bomb grenades out of the kids' underwear before launching them into the air for them to catch and keep in their drawers. The bed, 14 years of age seems to be all bumpy and thorny with the spring iron sprouting out of the socket as a result of the kids constantly turning it into a trampoline. And no matter how many layers of bed spread and sheets were gathered on it, the pestering bulge would insist to pierce our beings.

I am a strong person, I would like to think that I am. But my strength collapsed the moment I gazed into my other half's deep eyes every time he felt as though he has failed me. " has been a long time now, and I haven't been bringing any good news to tell you" he fussed. We were still meddling with the clothes, folding each one in our own different style. I looked at him and tasted his pain, the same pain that has been hemmed in for the longest of time. I said what I always say to him, ..." Tak per sayang, we'll figure this out k, something good awaits us, one day, someday insyaAllah, ...sikit je lagi k, kita doa byk2 k." He just smiled, unwavered by my feeble attempt of assurance.

We remained silent, busy with our own occupied thoughts. The silence stayed firm in this bubble of ours and never once left the room, unheard by the other occupants in the house. That's the way it should be, that's how we wanted it, until that one day, that someday emerges from the thorny surface. Yes, until.

We'll figure this out sama-sama k Liebling. Saya ada kan?


You can go.

You can start all over again

You can try to find a way to make another day go by

You can hide

Hold all your feelings inside

You can try to carry on when all you want to do is cry

[Chorus:]And maybe somedayWe'll figure all this out

Try to put an end to all our doubt

Try to find a way to make things better now and

Maybe someday we'll live our lives out loud

We'll be better off somehowSomeday

Now waitAnd try to find another mistake

If you throw it all away then maybe you can change your mind

You can run, oh

And when everything is over and done

You can shine a little light on everything around youMan it's good to be someone

[Chorus]And I don't want to waitI just want to know

I just want to hear you tell me so

Give it to me straight

Tell it to me slow

Cause maybe someday

We'll figure all this out

We'll put an end to all our doubt

Try to find a way to just feel better now

andMaybe someday we'll live our lives out loud

We'll be better off somehowSomeday[x2]

Cause sometimes we don't really notice

Just how good it can get

So maybe we should start all over

Start all over again

Thanks so much Vivien and Mai!

Thursday, May 6, 2010

You And I

You and I both know that I am slowly dissipating. Words are becoming less and less, scarce and few, redundant and at times repetitious. I rage not to succumb to the dying of the light, fight not to miss the light of day. But the more I clamber, the deeper I fall into this familiar abyss, too familiar, it breeds contempt.

People come and go, some pay up, some forget to mention about delays, while others keep mum and disappeared. But I am still here, have always been, working at the call of those in need. I am big on apologies, enormous on thank yous and huge on pleases but when those simple words ceased to be the virtues, I collapse at the very thought of their non existence in this dying world of ours. I shall not write to express my sorrows nor to chide the individuals I hardly know but I shall bow out for awhile to mend the irreparable.

There would be times when things do not come naturally and when that happens you know it's time for you to go, gracefully... for now at least.

Thanks so much Nurul!

Thanks so much Zurina for both orders!

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

If your mum is like mine with a cavity in her sweet tooth, you need more than just flowers and chocolates to fill it up. She deserves something more decadent and yet healthy to savour on her special day. It should also be a treat for all to enjoy, a celebration for all to remember and a taste for all to savour.

Nothing beats the presence of a chocolate cake on the table, all glossy, shiny and ready to be served to your favourite person in the whole world. The cake shouldn't be too sweet nor too rich or too milky. The chocolate should be bittersweet, just the way my mum likes it.

Double Choc Fudge Cake

Now, if your mum is like mine with a cavity in her sweet tooth, this is just what you need.

Happy Mother's Day Mak, Umi, Ibu, Mummy, Mama, Encik, Bonda...

To order email me