BLACK AND WHITE

The prized black and white TV behind us.

L-R: Maz, Gayah, Jab, Me and Lina. See how we posed on the sofa.

My uncles, cousins and siblings in the stilt house

My youngest uncle's wedding. Maz and Lina were the bridesmaid.

The huge compund of the house. Everywhere was a playground

GROWING UP

Remembering the past can be painful. You can't buy the lost time nor can you bring it forward. One of my wonderful chapters growing up was having my siblings and cousins all cooped up in our huge grandma's rumah panggung or stilt house. We would tell ghost stories and traded the daily events from each other's experiences.

My childhood was free and I was like the wild child of my dreams. I created my own fun, built friendship and immersed myself in the kampung setting. You would never find me hibernating and keeping still at one corner. I would be a butterfly, flitting from one place to another and hiding myself among the sunflowers or the rows and rows of tapiaco plants on the hill slope.

There were so many things to occupy myself that I dreaded the evening sun. It meant that I had to report back home to granny and have a shower. No more going out after dusk or the hantu gulung, orang minyak or the pontianak would hide you. Tell that creepy and eerie warning to a nine year old and nothing would ever drag me after dusk from the house. You know why? The stilt house was surrounded by giant trees and the next neighbour was about 60 metres away. It could be spooky at night with no street lights. My grandma's house would be a perfect set for filming one of those haunted stories for The Incredible Tales.

However, life was less complicated back then. We survived with very little money and anything and everything could offer us simple pleasures and loud guffaws. When I say I enjoy my life back then, I really meant it... with an OOOMPH!

PITA D' PISA

My pita bread with a wooden doll from Bali
The more green, the more lean you'll be
Pita d' Pisa for the madame of the house
Some pain in serving when food is a pleasure to indulge
I can devour two of these when I'm hungry
I might try to substitue the meat with kidney beans, one day
WHAT'S 4T?

A rather strange combination was laid on my dining table last Sunday. I always have tea when I am at home. I have had roti john, soto, mee siam and even shepherd pie for the past week.

I was almost at loss at what to serve the family when I remember that I had snatched a packet of pita from Tesco hypermarket in JB. I make my own pita filling and love my pita till it's last bite of the pocket.

I marinate thin slices of beef or chicken with coarse grounded pepper, oyster and soya sauce and oregano. With a splash of olive oil, I fry the meat and add a dash of salt. When the meat is almost done, I throw in cubed mushroom. Some mayonnaise and chilly sauce are added to the filling once is it cool. I also mix the filling with , lengthwised-cut cucumber and diced onion.

The pocket pita is lightly toasted before the meat is stuffed in together with some greens like lettuce or salad and ringed tomatoes. I prefer the wholemeal pita bread because it is more filling.

What else did I have? Some sparingly coated batter pisang goreng fried till crispy and refreshing Sosro tea which I accidentally came across at a value shop.

My simple tea was so heavenly beautiful.

KELAPA BAKAR FOR MEDICINAL REASONS

The hollowed out creamy coconut flesh
With stall owner and her daughter

Her daughter helps her mum during the weekend
A big tent for drivers to stop

The next door stall sells giant kites

Cheers to good health

Let me serve you with my special toasted coconut

We finished the drink to the last drop

See the flesh sitting nicely and loosely inside the shell

Shaving the burnt husk white before serving

Entrepreneurial spirit to earn a living

The young coconuts before being roasted

Coconuts roasted on open fire

Stoking the fire and turning the nuts periodically

An overturned lorry that snailed the traffic

You would not miss the sign along the road

KELAPA MUDA BAKAR

ROASTED YOUNG COCONUT

The long drive to Kota Tinggi was slow on that wet evening. There was a massive traffic jam ahead and the siren and wailing of two ambulances did not add any optimism to our drive.

I told my hubby to make a U-turn and skip Kota Tinggi this time round. There would always be another occasion to visit this historical town of Johor Bahru. The U-turn was made and we passed by an overturned lorry that had caused traffic to snail.

We needed to stop by for a hot drink somewhere. I remember the kapok pillow stall along the road which also mans a drink stall and suggested that we stop there for a quick bite. A quick tour revealed no teh tarik or nescafe ice to wet the throat or banana fritters for teatime. Instead, a sign board shouting "Toasted Young Coconut" stared in front of us.

Since the traffic was still at a standstill, we ordered two toasted coconut or kelapa muda bakar to kill time. A couple next to our table was scooping the coconut flesh and sipping the brownish juice. I wondered why the juice was brown in colour. It was time for Azizah Christie to whip her notebook and do some investigative work. I asked the stall owner how the coconut was prepared and the benefits of drinking the coconut juice.

The young coconuts are roasted over fire fuelled with wood and branches for an hour. They have to be turned over periodically otherwise the shell would crack and the juice leak. Once they are evenly roasted, the coconut is removed from the fire and its burnt husk shaved off with a parang. A hole is made at the top part of the shell. This would enable the drinker to scoop the flesh. A rightly roasted coconut would have its flesh lightly cling to its shell and pop out from the husk.

The coconut juice is poured into a cup and mixed with palm sugar which has been boiled with lemon grass and ginger. It is believed that drinking this concoction can help to alleviate diabetes, high blood pressure, tuberculosis, gall stones, asthma and improve blood circulation. I guess with palm sugar added to the juice, diabetic patient and high cholesterol patient must drink in moderation. You can opt for your juice to be mixed with ice or drink it hot.

We grabbed our chairs and started to dig into the flesh. Its creamily soft and very supple to contour with our spoon. The juice is tangy but sweet and has a strong fragrance of lemon grass and ginger. I opted for a hot juice and did not regret it for the liquid flowed down my throat like a cleaning agent, flushing my phlegm and soothing the soreness at my vocal chord.

We parted with RM8 for two coconuts and a smiling vendor. I suggested to the stall owner to have a masseuse operate nearby to complete the roadside clinic.

Cheers to good health!

TWIST AND TURN

Let's go with Alice and the Mad Hatters to her Wonderland

You are as bright as this balloon, Risha

The beauty and her work of beauty

The power of the hands that can sculpt things

A twist and a turn there for the perfect shape

It's easy Ma'am and the balloon won't burst easily!

Discussing the tea session amidst a rubbery atmosphere

The motif on my baju kurung is like the stem of the flowers

Kamilah, me and Norisha over a cuppa!

Don't sulk! Just get on with your work, will you?

I beg your pardon...I never promise you a balloon garden

Friends forever with balloons to keep company

More balloons will come your way, Mdm!

I had a great ballooning time with Risha and Kamilah

BALLOON TIME

She does not need to huff nor puff like the evil wolf which hopes to bring down the brick house of the three little pigs.

Instead she pumps with the air pump and wrestles with the multi-coloured rubber. She gives it a twist, a pull and a yank there and knots it over to keep it in shape. The cylindrical rubbery millipede- shaped balloon transforms into a flower, a sword, a heart and a poodle at the mercy of her well-manicured fingers.

That's Norisha, our resident balloon sculptor. I did not know of this talent of hers until we had the opportunity to sit down and discuss a tea session we had to organise. While penning down some ideas, out came a stretched balloon which Risha manipulated and tortured into the shape of a sword. But, hey I am not that an ardent fan of the Pirates of the Caribbean nor Captain Hook appeals to me with his cold steel S-shaped hook hand.

With my crestfallen face staring right into her brown eyes, she pulled out two more coloured balloons and shaped them into a poodle, hoping that Clown Bozo's smile would hang on my face. I am not keen on a poodle either. With her deft fingers and some strength to boot, she sculptured more balloons effortlessly. She won me over finally with her stupendous gigantic flowers. I opted for a flower to bloom forever at my workstation. Too lazy to water it nor whisper sweet nothings to it every morning. At least I will keep the Aedes mozie away and be safe from Dengue.

More friends were distracted by the commotion at my table and Risha was complying at the demand of those around her for the balloon sculpture's masterpieces. Crash course on ballooning was held immediately.

Risha is multi-talented. Guess what else could she do? She had worked as a clown before, earning big money at making people laugh at her sadly painted face. Maintaining her poise and elegance, she roars and weaves her way on our tarmac roads with her 1000c bike. She jams the brakes with her killer stiletto shoes, melts her biker partners with her pair of well-eyelined charcoal black eyes and cocks her Transformer-like helmet at the change of the traffic light. She rides herself like a moving and graceful art piece on our expressways.

I still haven't fully discovered what other talent she is hiding in her sleeve. I am safe enough if she does not hide me in her sleeve.

May I have a teddy bear balloon next, Risha? You promise me that.