Today, we got the keys to our next rental place.
It seems that we had moved back 38 years in time, in terms of the time each development was built.
But we were too charmed by the old walk-up. I think whatever deficiencies the place had in its state, we overlooked them. In fact, we took them as good, charming points.
We are excited.
28 January, 2012
25 January, 2012
Snippets from Apartment No. 1
I think I will miss the blinds clanging against the sill whenever the winds start. Two in the living room, one in the bedroom, playing to the tune of the wind's fancy.
24 January, 2012
Coffee shops
We still love The Plain, but we noted with amusement that the Tiong Bahru shops don't suffer from lapses in SingTel's 3G network.
22 January, 2012
除夕
I went to my dad's grave and formally introduced the other half to the old man.
I went to my mum's place and saw sheets soaked in water in a basin. I was told they were 舊照片 (old photographs) and my mother did not want to throw them away without first making sure the images were gone.
It is a Chinese New Year's eve tinged with a touch of remembrance.
I went to my mum's place and saw sheets soaked in water in a basin. I was told they were 舊照片 (old photographs) and my mother did not want to throw them away without first making sure the images were gone.
It is a Chinese New Year's eve tinged with a touch of remembrance.
14 January, 2012
We are moving!
After all, this is our first home.
We are moving soon, to a bigger place. Having lived here for almost a year, we loved everything about this place except its size. It meant we have little storage; it meant we couldn't have a work table (or even want to buy good furniture, in general). It also meant that we hung out our laundry in the living or bed room.
While looking for a new place, we focused on what we could not have. Because that seems like the kind of attitude to spawn action. But of course, after this was settled, I started thinking about what we had and loved. Other than the fact that this is a relatively new development, and that we had lots of food options near to us, I certainly had other soft power tugging at me.
It is our first home. We got here, and brought along our immense joy at having found a place to call our home. We got here, and brought along our half-baked dreams of our life ahead, and thought the place good enough.
There were times when I lounged, sipped coffee and read, with the wind nipping at my hair. There were times we did that together. There were times when we listened to the rain falling. There were times where I raised the blinds and stared at the beads of rainwater beautifully stuck to the glass of our windows. I learnt to sleep in an air-conditioned room. You learnt to, at times, sleep without air-conditioning. And I think we shall always remember the (two) times we walked through the wading pool just for the fun of it. The first time we did it before dinner, and ate with somewhat wet feet/ calves. The second time we did it, you waded through while I, properly shoed, held your hand from the side of the pool.
We, both private and relatively quieter than the next man on the street, had friends over. You exercised your talents at cooking, while we discovered how great steamboat can be (especially if you are waiting for election results). We could have and had Christmas at home, and you insisted that we be home before 2012 came along so that we could have a perfectly tender moment as the year turned.
I suppose there are more memories we have of this place - happy moments, and snippets that relate to things we do not like as much. They will be remembered and/or forgotten, but because of the quirk of history, this remains our first home, the first place of our togetherness.
See you.
We are moving soon, to a bigger place. Having lived here for almost a year, we loved everything about this place except its size. It meant we have little storage; it meant we couldn't have a work table (or even want to buy good furniture, in general). It also meant that we hung out our laundry in the living or bed room.
While looking for a new place, we focused on what we could not have. Because that seems like the kind of attitude to spawn action. But of course, after this was settled, I started thinking about what we had and loved. Other than the fact that this is a relatively new development, and that we had lots of food options near to us, I certainly had other soft power tugging at me.
It is our first home. We got here, and brought along our immense joy at having found a place to call our home. We got here, and brought along our half-baked dreams of our life ahead, and thought the place good enough.
There were times when I lounged, sipped coffee and read, with the wind nipping at my hair. There were times we did that together. There were times when we listened to the rain falling. There were times where I raised the blinds and stared at the beads of rainwater beautifully stuck to the glass of our windows. I learnt to sleep in an air-conditioned room. You learnt to, at times, sleep without air-conditioning. And I think we shall always remember the (two) times we walked through the wading pool just for the fun of it. The first time we did it before dinner, and ate with somewhat wet feet/ calves. The second time we did it, you waded through while I, properly shoed, held your hand from the side of the pool.
We, both private and relatively quieter than the next man on the street, had friends over. You exercised your talents at cooking, while we discovered how great steamboat can be (especially if you are waiting for election results). We could have and had Christmas at home, and you insisted that we be home before 2012 came along so that we could have a perfectly tender moment as the year turned.
I suppose there are more memories we have of this place - happy moments, and snippets that relate to things we do not like as much. They will be remembered and/or forgotten, but because of the quirk of history, this remains our first home, the first place of our togetherness.
See you.
10 January, 2012
No surprise
It started as an exercise in spontaneity. I don't send the other half to work; I leave a text as I am driving off because who knows what will happen in the course of a drive. Then I started driving by the bus stop, in lieu of the text.
As first, the drive-by was random. Then slowly, it became a fixture. Instead of texting, I'd rather see you, I thought to myself.
So now, it has become non-spontaneous. I wonder if the other half stopped feeling the delight that comes with a drive by that may or may not happen again. And I wonder if this is why maintaining something becomes a lesson in creating new ways to love the other.
As first, the drive-by was random. Then slowly, it became a fixture. Instead of texting, I'd rather see you, I thought to myself.
So now, it has become non-spontaneous. I wonder if the other half stopped feeling the delight that comes with a drive by that may or may not happen again. And I wonder if this is why maintaining something becomes a lesson in creating new ways to love the other.
2 January, 2012
Hello, 2012
2 January.
We went to Craig Road, parked and did our usual aiming of cameras at the Duxton Hill bridge. We then skip over to The Plain.
I like toast, and I like coffee.
Having been here several times, we know the Singtel data network works badly in there. We eat, we flip magazines, we read our books. I make the other one tell me snippets about the book. We dream about furniture we could conceivably use and afford. We skirt around our hopes, currently centred on where we will live.
In The Plain, I regain a sense of life. Maybe it is the coffee, or the eggs perched perfectly on toast. Or maybe it is the long table which, as you may wish on any particular day, seem to be perfect for conversation, day-dreaming aloud and/or quiet moments of inspiration.
It is great way to start a day. It could be the perfect start to a year.
Editor's note: We did end up buying furniture later that day.
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