The Dollhouse Diaries: My Maharaja's Palace

Day 303- Mughal Miniatures On A Cube

2012-02-01T23:55:00.000+08:00

It was right after I moved my tribal house. I was sitting in my living room, watching the Rollas at work. Motion, commotion and all their worldly possessions at a glance in a space only as big as an A2 size paper, I realised then why I love working in miniatures. How else can we watch time unfold simultaneously in a few different worlds without even blinking an eye? There was Ro watching Baby messing his face with a cookie, loving her child, OM thinking with his eyes closed, Maya dreaming, her father reading, at different places in their own worlds, all at once. Looking at the 5 all at once worlds all at once and all the time, seated on my daybed, I thought this was as close to playing God as I could get.

I leaned back, pleased as punch and that was when I felt something hard on my back. Oh! It was my art-on-a-cube toy. Nine different Mughal Miniature paintings unfold when you play with the puzzle cube. Wow, I thought, a gallery worth of museum treasures in the palm of one's hand, more miniature marvel moments! So I spent the next 20 minutes taking pictures of the paintings for this post.

I thought maybe you will enjoy some of these moments too.

A Lady Serving A Meal

Oudh, India c1770-80

The dramatic colouring and the rhythmic and stylized flow of the women's clothing combine to create what is one of the most striking images in Sir Alfred Chester's collection. Painted in Kangria, in the Himalayan foothills, the painting is equally notable for being a genre scene, the artist having chosen to depict a woman at an everyday task, instead of one of the more popular feminine subjects of love, romance and beauty.

A Lady Sets Off Fireworks

Oudh, India c1770-80

In this beguiling miniature, three women stand on a terrace at night, while one of them, her hands and feet dyed with henna, sets off fireworks. Feminine subjects, in particular scenes focusing in feminine beauty such as this one, were traditional in Hindu art but became especially popular in 18th century Oudh.

The Dejected Mistress

Murshidabad, India c1755-60

A young woman, seated on a terrace alone at night, holds in one hand a letter from her lover, which she reads stoically and with concealed emotion, while clutching a small posy of blossoms in her other hand. The sparse composition of this painting is extremely effective in conveying its message of dejection and isolation; it also serves to highlight the exquisite brocade textiles of the figure's clothing and her richly bejewelled turban.

Jahangir Holding A Globe

India c.1620 by the artist Bichitr

In this highly allegorical painting, the Mughal emperor Jahangir holds a globe, atop of which is a key inserted into a lock, a reference to a key which it was thought could open both the material and spiritual worlds. Access to the key and hence to the inner knowledge of the two worlds was believed to be through Shaykh Mu'in al-Din Chishti, founder of the Chishti order of Sufis in India in the 12th century. The Mughals regarded a Chishti order as their spiritual guardian, and this painting once formed a facing pair of a similar depiction in Shaykh Mu'in al -Din.

Raga Dipaka

Bengal, India c 1760

This night scene of a courtesan sitting on the lap of her lover illustrates the raga Dipaka. In Indian music, a raga is a musical mode, while a collection of ragas is a ragamala (or 'garland' of ragas). Ragas are frequently illustrated, the artist attempting to portray the scene invoked by the particular musical mode in question. Sir Elijah Impey and his wife, Lady Mary, who once owned this ragamala, arrived in India in 1774; both husband and wife were keen collectors and patrons of Indian art.

A Prince And His Consort

India c 1620-25 by the artist Govardhan

This portrayal of a Mughal prince and his consort once formed part of a royal album , each painting of which was framed by elaborately illuminated borders, such as those seen here. The painting is unusual both for its very subdued colouring , in which shades of gold prevail, and the highly intimate nature of the scene. The dark clouds forming above the enraptured couple may seem rather foreboding but, in the Indian tradition, they in fact function as symbols foretelling a season of fertility and love- making.

Ganesha Enthroned

Garhwal, India, c 1790

The four-armed , Hindu elephant deity, Ganesha, is the god of wisdom and the patron of sciences, art and all creative activities. He is also considered the sponsor of auspicious beginnings or the remover of obstacles. As such , this image once served as an introduction to the story of Sudama, a poor peasant who one day travels to the palace of his childhood friend, the god Krishna, to give him a small bundle of rice as a gift. Moved by his act of generosity, Krishna transforms Sudama's impoverished hut into a palace, clothes his wife in luxury and makes him a raja.

Akbar Receives The Homage of I'Timad Khan

India c AD 1605 by the artist Sur Das

The Akbarnama is the official biography of the Mughal Emperor Akbar (r.1556-1605) written by his close friend and associate. Abu'I-Fazl. In this highly colourful and intriguing miniature, the artist records the moment when the warlord, I'timad Khan ruler of Cambay, humbly prostrated himself before Akbar, who sits proudly atop a brightly caparisoned elephant. But the Khan's apparent loyalty to the higher authority of the emperor was short-lived, for as soon as Akbar had departed, he quickly tried to rebel, which just as quickly led to his imprisonment.

Akbar's Visit To The Muslim Shrine of Shaykh Farid Sakarganj

India c 1605

Here again the Mughal Emperor Akbar is portrayed, this time dressed in a bright orange jama and praying before the black-draped tomb of a Muslim shaykh. Set in the exact centre of the composition, he is the unmistakable focus of this busy and highly detailed picture. Intricate geometric patterns and scrolling blossoms cover floors, walls and the dome, while a rich array of textiles clothe the many courtiers and servants depicted, each of whom is involved in an animated discussion with his neighbour. A garden of lush trees grows beyond the back wall of the shrine, while in front, by the man entrance to the shrine, yet more guards and servants wait, ready to tend to the emperor's every need.

All descriptions of the pieces came with the cube.

Day 302-Moving The Village House

2012-01-29T00:36:00.000+08:00

I have been planning this for sometime now but it was only today that I found the time to make the big move.

Some Chinese believe it is not auspicious moving home during the Chinese New Year period and we are onto our 6th day of celebrations today with 9 more days to go. The Rollas however scoffed and said these rules don't apply to us Banjarans from India.

So we waved goodbye to where they were residing the past year and a half i.e. the dining room and moved, rather gingerly I might add, to what we all (Rollas, Fafa and I) thought was a perfect spot for a permanent site.

Here the house sits in the corner of our living room on an antique sewing machine base as if it has been custom made for it.

Truth is I bought this base and 3 others for a song more then 20 years ago at an antiques market in Jakarta, Indonesia. The market however had a reputation for selling reproductions instead. Back then, I didn't really care whether they were authentic or not especially considering the price, and this one in particular did not even have any markings.

I even thought the wooden pitman rod was a repair job to replace a missing cast iron part! It was only now that I found out that there were many models of antique sewing machines which used wooden pitman rods instead of metal ones. Even if it was not old then, it is now, after 20 years with me.

More importantly, at this new location and for the 1st time in one and a half years, the house finally enjoys natural lighting. The Rollas are thrilled and so am I.

It may be a miniature house but the effort is no less mammoth for me especially as I am not the sort who likes moving things around just for a change of scenery.

Meet Ms Piggy, I am lazy that way.The one in the picture? I bought her from my sister's shop, probably made in India. Can you tell she'll be sitting on that cushion for a long long time to come?

Just like the Rollas House in that spot.

Day 301- Thinking.....

2012-01-27T00:22:00.000+08:00

I have spent today thinking how to bash

this

into

haveli in Crafts Museum, Delhi

this

traditional Himachali house, Crafts Museum, Delhi

this

haveli at Bikaner, picture taken by Sayid Budi

even this (!)

Day 295 & 300- The Elephant Parade

2012-01-09T22:08:00.000+08:00

Singapore Botanic Gardens where all 162 elephants congregate for 3 days from 8-11/1/2012.

Have you heard of The Elephant Parade?

An outdoor exhibition of huge elephant statues, each one uniquely designed by a local or international artist, this event is touted as the largest of its kind. The Elephant Parade seeks to raise awareness of the plight of Asian elephants and is dedicated to the conservation of this dwindling specie. At the end of each exhibition, the artwork are auctioned off with parts of the proceeds donated to The Asian Elephants Foundation. I was really excited when I found out that the Parade was coming to Singapore, a 1st time in Asia!

Ming Kwan Nakorn Ping by Jharatpong at National Museum Singapore.

Between 11 November 2011 to 11 January 2012, 162 art elephants were scattered around Singapore, adding welcomed colours and interest to my country. It culminated in the big herding of all the statues at the Singapore Botanic Gardens. I saw a few over the months and on Sunday, we ran to the Botanic Gardens (our regular weekly runs) just to meet all of them.

Ming Kwan Nakorn Ping by Jharatpong at National Museum Singapore

There were many elephants with an Indian/ Hindu / Buddhist theme. This one was one of the more elaborately decorated piece by a Thai artist called Jharatpong. Using many Asian Hindu and Buddhist elements like deities, temple architecture and landscape, Jharatpong created a sparkling and colorful elephant with acrylic oil and gold leaf.

Miss India by Nut Thamrongpittayanan

This artist designed 3 elephants, Miss China, Miss Malaysia and Miss India. Miss India wears a sheer veil over her face.

Haathi Mere Saathi by by Farhad Hussain

This piece was named after an Indian movie that was a huge hit in the '70s. The title means Elephant, My Partner and is also the name of its theme song. I know because it was my housemate, Fai's favourite Hindi song. Underlining this piece of work is the theme of the movie and how the smiles and apparent joviality of the characters belie the tragic life of the elephant. The movie was about an orphan, Raju who was saved by 4 elephants, in particular Ramu, the one he became closest with, from a leopard. They became street performers and lived a hard life. In time, Raju became wealthy and could afford his own zoo where he kept other animals together with his 4 elephants. When he got married and a child was born, his wife made him choose between the animals or the family as she feared the child being hurt by them. When Raju chose his life long friends over his family, Ramu decided to bring the estranged couple together but eventually sacrificed his life in doing so.

Precious by Ahmad Zakii Anwar at National Museum Singapore

The artist associates the endangered status of the elephants with something as precious and fragile as Chinese porcelain.

I was the most amused by this one

Dada, the Surrealist Elephant by Rosihan Dahim

Bula by Arturo Sanchez Jr. at National Museum, Singapore

but the most fascinated with this one with the lights.

Delightful Durians by Nat Posila & Ed Robinson

The crowd's favourite

Not Forgotten by Michael Han & Kiat

My favourite. It's a rusty elephant and this is the artists' statement:

This elephant rests uneasily in a decaying state as concrete jungles overtake its natural environment – in the process, overtaking its form as its expression depicts the tension between our world and theirs.

Damaged Dumbo by Renato L. Barja Jr

while this one was the favourite of my 3 year old nephew, Xander. He called it "the sad elephant."

The Naughty and the Elephant - Carrie Chau

There he was standing next to a piece aptly titled The Naughty and the Elephant. His dad told me he loved the parade so much that he didn't want to go home. His mum thought maybe he wanted to live with the elephants instead.

Like my nephew, I love the elephants and the Parade but I love the spirit behind it even more. From how the parade started (a father and son team going from door to door with paper mache sample elephants only to be rejected again and again) to the saving of this endangered specie, I am inspired and reminded that no dreams are too big, no efforts too small, to always believe and when we do, to never give up.

Day 296-3rd Year-The Last Skill

2011-12-31T20:13:00.001+08:00

15th Oct 2011

trans.mute (trns-myt, trnz-)

v.tr.

to change from one form, nature, substance or state to another; transform

15th September 2011

It was exactly 2 years ago that I first experienced the joy of transmutation. I converted gold to brass and called myself an alchemist.

alchemist [ˈælkəmɪst]

a believer that he can change base metal to gold; a seeker of the elixir of life so that the world be rid of all diseases and our aged be restored back unto eternal youth.

You must think me deluded. An alchemist? Not only did I not turn metal into gold but I did quite the reverse.

Then a year ago, I painted brand new plastic boxes into rusty metal junk.

And there was more destruction, maybe even death.

What Elixir of Life?

Aged unto Youth?

But wait....

This year I learnt this....

I learnt how in death there can be life

and see how in decay, there can be beauty.

Perhaps there really is less death and destruction

than death and transmutation, as Edward Teale said

If Nature denies eternity to beings, it follows that their destruction is one of her laws. Now once we observe that destruction is so useful to her that she absolutely cannot dispense with it....from this moment onward the idea of annihilation which we attach to death ceases to be real....what we call the end of the living animal is no longer a true finis, but a simple transformation, a transmutation of matter. According to these irrefutable principles, death is hence no more than a change of form, an imperceptible passage from one existence into another.

.....................Marquis de Sade: Dolmance, in Philosophy in the Bedroom, "Dialogue the Fifth: Yet Another Effort, Frenchmen, If You Would Become Republicans (1795)

I dedicate this to my wonderful friends, especially those who were here in the past year, constantly telling me how they could see the beauty in my decay.

Thank you too the 365 people who follow my blog. My silent companions, some of you. I appreciate you no less.

Day 299- New Year's Eve

2011-12-30T15:26:00.001+08:00

Daybreak from Marina Bay Sands- 31/12/2011

I woke up to this sea of burning sky on the last morning of 2011. Standing at the balcony of Asuka's 13th floor room at the Marina Bay Sands, I imagined how this must have been the everyday phenomenon for all the other 364 days of this year. All the past mornings of wonder that I had missed... No, I told myself, this one was particularly beautiful because this one fell on New Year's Eve and also because I had been waiting for this moment since about 3 weeks ago.

Elephant parade @ Marina Bay Sands picture taken by Cher Kuan during a run on 20/11/2011

It was 3 weeks ago when Asuka invited me and Cindy to a staycation at the Marina Bay Sands and to spend New Year's Eve with her and her family. I was thrilled to say the least. What can be better than watching dawn break at one of the world's most amazing swimming pool, long chats about miniatures into the quiet of the night, strawberry champagne and mask party, right?

The Night Before..

Pictures from here

The evening started exotic enough at Geylang with a dinner treat from Asuka's dad. I have never tasted creamier porridge or tastier frog legs. Thank you to Asuka's family for such a sumptuous dinner! Right after dinner, we cabbed down to Marina Bay Sands.

My City- from 57th Floor Marina Bay Sands, 30/12/11

We wasted no time in checking out SkyPark Pool . Rosanna texted me an hour before this picture was taken to wish us all a Happy New Year. This was us giving you our hugs and kisses, Rosanna!

Grainy picture taken with me holding the camera just before we plunged into the cold water. 10pm, 30/12/2011.

Hugs

Nice warm water in the foamy jacuzzi

More of the magic asset enhancer jacuzzi

and Wet Kisses !

Extravagant strawberries that Cindy and I decided to splurge on just because they were so pretty

We returned to the room at about 11pm to more treats of strawberries and Rilakkuma papercraft made by Asuka

Asuka's favourite

Indonesian chicken puffs and Chinese New Year crackers.

And then Asuka did the perfect corking of the Chilean sparkly I brought just for her because she loved strawberries.

Glasses of the original blend of Chilean sparkling wine with handpicked strawberries and then as if it was not strawberried enough, we dunked real ones into the flute for her. Of course, I did not know she didn't like alcohol. Good thing her mummy and I do.

We clinked to Cindy's birthday that had just passed, Asuka's birthday that is about to come, the last day of the year and the beginning of a new one!

And the mask party lasted till our faces began to itch.

New Year's Eve

Rosanna's gift to me for Xmas this year, trees of green bracelet created by Amy.

After watching the sky till it cleared, I went back to bed till everyone woke. Cindy and I stayed in the room whilst Asuka and her mum went off for breakfast. I showed off my favourite Christmas present to Cindy and she took art pictures of it.

And for the rest of the day with them at the pool, I took even more pictures. Not surprisingly, looking at these pictures now, they somehow set out for me my aspirations for the coming year 2012.

Asuka and her mum

To be a better daughter,

Cindy and Asuka

sister, partner and friend.

Basically, a better me.

To put my best food forward

instead of one in my mouth.

window display taken by Cindy

Continue to do what I love,

love what I do,

window display MBS taken by Cindy

Construction Workers on Roof from 34th Floor MBS

Learn a new skill/s

Specialty Wine and Vinegar shop MBS

Add colours to my life

Louis Vuitton House, Singapore from 34th Floor

And always aspiring to

Art Science Museum from 34th Floor

greater and

Singapore Flyer from 13th Floor MBS

greater heights....

....of happiness.

What about you, my dear friends? What was your New Year's Eve like?

Day 297- Eve of Christmas, Morning

2011-12-25T12:10:00.000+08:00

10am

11.59 am

Voila!

Perfect Blend of Red and Green!

DEAREST FRIENDS,

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

And may God bless ye merry, friends of mine,

Let nothing you dismay,

And with true love and brotherhood

Each other now embrace;

This holy tide of Christmas

All other doth deface

O, tidings of comfort and joy

comfort and joy!

Day 296-3rd Year's New Skills

2011-12-16T01:23:00.001+08:00

Evening Light - Taken on 26/6/2011

I asked at the start of my 3rd year, like how I did in the past 3 years, what new skills I wanted to acquire during the coming 12 months. This year, just like the preceding years that passed, I didn't end up learning what I thought I wanted at the start. I still don't know how to ride a Vespa or play the drums or work with polymer clay.

You asked why in the world do I keep making these resolutions if I don't plan to achieve them. But I did achieve, I'd say! Let me explain. My resolution - and it is always the same one each year- was to learn at least one new skill for the year.

That task, I believe I did. In fact, I felt I made 3 rather significant accomplishments in my 3rd year.

1stly,

I learnt to take better photographs

Tribal Kitchen -taken on 26/6/2011

S$2 small table with drawer from Daiso (bashed). Various baskets from Chatuchak (painted or varnished), Dried flowers are yellow sea lavender or statice. Bottles are swapped gifts from Glenda Howell (dirtied), vegetables from Chatuchak (painted and already eaten by Rat), sack of rice (made with hemp cloth)

Harvest- taken on 20/12/2011

Maize is potpourri, ladle holder (made with jewellery finding), ladles (made with toothpicks and seed pods), paper leaves from Chatuchak, reed from table mat

Biscuit Tins- taken on 20/8/2011

shelf (made with ice cream stick, plastic lace, mirror beads and gesso), biscuit tins swapped gifts from Indonesia (painted),

raw crackers waiting to be fried came with tins

Shadows - taken on 27/8/2011

Mud and mirror furniture (made), plate of raw fish (assembled), utensils & milk can (ebay purchases) silver plate (from shop in Miniature Museum of Taiwan), brass bowls (painted metal caps), brass pots from Little India, fish trap basket from Chatuchak (painted)

Kitchen Goddess Lakshmi -taken on 27/8/2011

Brass Lakshmi from Little India (painted), Alcove (made with clay diya, distressed),

garland (made with string & preserved real leaves since May 2011)

Broken Blinds -taken on 27/8/2011

Broken blinds (made with bamboo coaster), dried flowers are potpourri, ladles (made with metal caps and toothpicks), ladle holder is a wooden bead, little porcelain cups are gifts from Rosanna Rolla (dirtied)

Kerosene - taken on 20/12/2011

Bottles bought from bead shop in South Bridge Road (dirtied, cork is real), tinderbox (painted metal, assembled), mud and mirror stove (made), pot from Chatuchak (painted), blue plate rack (made with ice cream sticks, beads, bamboo skewers)

Now, by themselves, these photographs may not seem particularly impressive. If you will understand my constraints however, you may appreciate how far I have come. Firstly, we have the size issue. Everything is small, be it the subject matter or the space.

Then, there is the question of where the objects are placed. The Goddess Lakshmi for instance, can never be seen in real life by a human being because the alcove it is placed in is right inside the kitchen on the wall. Let me assure you, there is no conceivable way you can fit your head into the room for a closer look.

Before, I had no inkling at all on the kind of lighting required for photographing the interior of a dollhouse placed rather far away from a natural light source. Take a look at some of my photos taken this year and you will see what I mean.The kitchen especially posed a serious problem as it was the most dimly lit room.

After starting the year so auspiciously with the accidental discovery of a white light source, I can take pictures any time of the day now. I have really come a long way from not knowing how to even upload photos (Dec 2008), macro setting (2009), lighting or photo edit tools (2010) to now taking ambient pictures. I am giving myself the Most Improved In 3 Years Award and singing It's my anniversary party and I can give if I want to!

The Forgotten Toy-(exterior side of house) taken on 20/12/2011

Toy bird (made), winter trees are real stems

Treewizard's Tree- (below toy) taken on 20/12/2011

Tree by Christopher Pereira, gift

Ladder and Lace- (other side of house) taken on 1/10/2011

ladder (made), rusty pail with cloth (assembled, painted S$2 pail from Daiso), tree (made), stone seats with moss are real pebbles. Alcove (made with clay diya , dirtied and distressed)

Ladder and Lace details- taken on 1/10/2011

Rust- taken on 20/12/2011

Pump is souvenir from India (painted) Plate on top of brass jar is a gift from Eva Perendreu, metal basins from Daiso, (painted)

Last Blooms - Taken on 25/9/2011

Flowers , (painted plastic flowers) weeds are dried moss, brass pot from Little India, skinny twigs are real, shrine cupboard (made) , flooring is table mat.

House Shrine -Taken on 20/12/2011

Rusty metal trunks (made), books (made), pillow (made) , blue tin (made)with real dried flowers, Brass Ganesha and goddesses of light from Little India (painted), cupboard (ma de) , golden bowls were gifts from Carol G Msv

Embroidered Dowry- Taken on 20/12/2011

Quilter's Cupboard (made), bowls made by Rosanna Rolla, gifts. Basket with laundry made by Flora

And then there is of course

the immense satisfaction and indescribable pleasure

Key to my heart-taken on 10/12/2011

of completing a home.

Day 294- My 3rd Year Was...

2011-12-12T22:33:00.001+08:00

...a year of woven stories

and

spun tall tales;

Sojourns in Indian palaces,

lessons in the yogic ways,

and

travellers from Spain;

Nights of burning the midnight oil,

Days to better hone my skills.

Of friendships and frame baskets

dancing shoes and girlfriends,

memories that remain.

Photographs are of details in the Spinner's Corner and Embroidery Room of the Rolla's Tribal House, my 1st dollhouse. The spinner's corner was the 1st of the many areas in this house that I have done. I started work on this house on 1st April 2010 and finally completed it in my 3rd year since I started making miniatures, on 10th December 2011 after I finished Baby.

Day 290-293 Baby

2011-12-10T01:42:00.001+08:00

My mother always said: If you want a handsome child, pick a picture of the cutest baby you can find, put it where you can see it everyday and when your baby is born, he will look just like the one in the picture. You may think it is just a housewife's tale but if my mother says it's true, then surely it must be.

Taschen's Indian Interiors

So this was my picture, one which I had been looking at since 2009. The idea of a tribal baby was conceived right after I decided to build the Rolla's tribal home in July 2009. I loved this baby so much, I remembered wanting an exact replica. An artisan's doll like my Palace Maya, I had thought, but that was then and before I became so involved with the stories of my dolls.

Not surprisingly, Baby M was the hardest to actualise. Despite being the 1st character conceived, he was the last to be created. There were also no stories spun around Baby, until the post before last that is, and only thanks to Jennifer's gifts.

Then Rosamargarita came to the rescue. It was only after I received her knitted baby wear that I finally felt some sort of inspiration to start on Baby. As you can see, Baby is wearing Rosamargarita's blue sweater. Regretfully, I had to dirty it a little. Alright, maybe not so little.

I did practise some restraint though and knew I could not possibly dirty RosaM's hat too so I made Baby one from ribbon and sock. I then fed him sticky Indian sweets, dirtied his face and everywhere else I could find so that there was no mistaking our baby was a boy. I even blackened his eyes fiercely. Sadly, when I passed Baby around to all at home, no one thought he looked anything like the baby in the picture. Some even wondered if he was a she.

Off went his frilly hat and the crazy eyeliner and I gave him a turban made from Maya's sari. It was just like how mum used to dress me and my siblings.

Until I was about 12, my sisters and I frequently wore similar dresses made by mum. The pattern differed slightly but the fabric used was the same. Everyone in our neighbourhood knew we 3 little girls were siblings just by looking at what we wore. We didn't even have to say anything since mum had told us not to talk to strangers. Strength in numbers, my mother always told us. Once people know we were sisters, they would not want to try anything funny, she said. That was how we ran errands for mum, the 3 sisters together, since I was in primary school. But I digressed....

I hope RosaM forgive me the liberty I took with her sweater. I had to give Baby only the best because he was so dear to me. Too much so perhaps because I gave him all the knitted wear she made.

And although he looks nothing like the perfect baby in the picture, I love him anyway. Can you see how Ro is keeping an eye on him right now? She can barely contain her smile looking at her child. And neither can I.

What shall we call our Baby, dear friends?

His name must of course starts with an M, just like his sister's.

Day 289 & 293- Moldy Mondays

2011-11-30T08:44:00.001+08:00

November has arrived. It's the time of the year when the weather is wet all day and my clothes are always damp. This is also the month we experience the highest rainfall in Singapore.

Is it snowing already where you are? I have my share of white fluffy flakes too and they all come falling into my tribal house. Except mine is not snow but mold. Barely the 1st Monday of the month and I already found them sneaking up my stairs.

They always attack my stairs first, just like last November. Actually last year, the stairs were the only place I found them. I cleaned, I repainted and then varnished and I thought they were gone forever. Back again they came, more aggressive this time around. By this Monday, I already see them on my walls and floors.

I had to shift everything on the floor away so that I could remove the mold. Even then , some remain stubbornly stuck in the crevices that I cannot reach. Needless to say, my house is in shambles now.

I used to love the rainy season but now that I have to contend with the mold, I am not sure anymore. The one thing I am definite about though is that no matter how well I clean them out this time, they will be back again, same time, same place next year.

Day 254-Gifts For Baby, Jennifer's Way

2011-11-27T20:52:00.001+08:00

First, a wire basket

of many nutritious eggs,

for both mummy and baby
to keep them strong and healthy.

Then a pitcher and bowl for washing

before mummy handles baby

or cooks a meal for him.

And while the water's boiling

to fill up for their bath

we can already hear his gurgles,
the splashing and their laughs.

A lovely crib for Baby
to sleep under the sky

while mummy sings to him
the sweetest lullaby

Books for when mum's not so busy?

But life with Baby does get a little crazy!

And although she knows it won't be long
Before he grows tall, big and strong
No matter what, she says to he,
you are always my baby boy to me.

All these wonderful Gifts for Baby were won by me in a giveaway organised by Jennifer om 23/5/2011. There was also a sachet where she put dried lavender that she grew herself and of course, her cards starring the plush toys that she made

I remembered how thrilled I was when I found out I had won because the cradle, metal pot, bathtub, paper dolls and photos were from when she started collecting minis in the '70s. The wash basin, basket of eggs, and baby books were recent finds but the baby books are vintage 1970s as well.

I soon found out that this kind of generosity is not unusual where Jen is concerned. Sharing and giving is her way of life and if you are a follower of her blog, I am sure you will know exactly what I mean. This lady organises giveaways so often that I think she has one every other time I visit her blog!

Here's to you, Jen!

You make blogland fun with your plushies and your generosity.

I am so glad we are friends.

Day 289-The Day I Lost My Blog

2011-11-11T23:54:00.000+08:00

It had just happened and I am still a little shell shocked. About an hour and a half ago, when it was still 11/11/11 and as I was browsing blogs and leaving comments, my account was suddenly suspended. It happened innocently enough- I wrote a comment and when I tried to publish it, I realised that I was signed out. In the drop down box where Blogger asked you to pick the account you wanted to sign in as, I picked Google and was brought to the sign in page. I tried to sign in and I got this

Account has been disabled

If you've been redirected to this page from the sign-in page, it means that access to your Google Account has been disabled.

A few more futile attempts later, I contacted the admin and emailed them about what happened.

I then tried to access my blog and to my horror, I was brought to a page that say the blog at sansdollhousediaries.blogspot.com has been removed. Many many many attempts later, I had to resign myself to the fact that my blog was gone. All 231 posts , 3 years , records , pictures! Vanished into thin air!

NO NO NO!!!!

ARGH!!!!
&*^% &^%

.............

.............

Maybe I will finally have time to stitch

this could just be a hitch?

I think I went through all 4 stages of grief in that one minute.

I emailed again, this time to tell them what had happened to my blog.

I then spent the next hour in cold sweat, reading about how people had waited for months after their blogs were removed and never regained access to their blogs. There were many reasons given for the suspension: copyright infringement, spam, suspicious clicking (??!!). I tried to think , did I not attribute authorship? Maybe I was leaving too many comments?

At 11.11pm (I think) and with trembling hands, I signed in using another gmail account. This time, I got a page that asked me how will you feel if one day you lose access to Google(?!). They then asked for a notification email and my mobile for verification purpose. I keyed in both.

I logged out and then tried one more time to log into this blog. Lo and behold, a new page! This time to inform me that they would need me to provide my mobile number for the verification password as they had detected some invalid activities.

I got my blog back after that.

I don't even know how to describe that 90 minute ordeal. It's like a wake up call where the alarm clock never stopped ringing for 90 minutes.

I must be really frazzled because all I wanted to do was to write all this down. For record and to remind me not to panic the next time it happened.

And I can tell I am still not thinking straight.

What's the point of writing all this down in a blog that could vanish into thin air again?

Day 283- The Handbag of Glory

2011-11-08T23:00:00.003+08:00

What kind of world is it when you thank someone for making you happy and in return, they crochet you a handbag and then fill it with the most glorious things? As incredible as it sounds, there is a world such as this and it is inhabited by angels like Rosamargarita. Lucky for me, I get to be a part of this wonderful world as well.

RosaM, as she is affectionately called by me, lives in a faraway land called Guadalajara in Mexico. Thanks to Blogland, we met over a basket weaving tutorial and since then, have been visiting each other regularly.

It was just another August evening when at La Tapatia and in a post not quite related to miniatures, RosaM decided to post some links to music so long gone, they actually made me crazy happy when I heard them. It was not unlike meeting a favourite aunt you haven't seen for 40 years.

3 days after her post, the 3 of us who left a comment on that post were told we had each won a prize. It was RosaM's way of celebrating 333 followers and a commemoration of something that happened 33 years ago. As far as I was concerned, this giveaway took the cake for being the most unusual.

RosaM made something special for our projects and I received mine on the 4th of October 2011. When I showed them to my dolls, Maya insisted that the hat and cardigan would go perfectly with her outfit. Baby can wear them when I outgrow the clothes, she told me, after all, blue is for boys, right?

Angel RosaM,

I make this post to celebrate your Handbag of Glory.

If I may quote Edward Monkton, and for the benefit of my friends who will need a translation of what my rather dirty coaster is saying:

Such was the power of the

handbag of glory that

ladies wept when they saw it and

those who touched it

went straight to Heaven

Thank you, Rosamargarita.

Day 286- 287 Sewing Kit

2011-11-05T00:15:00.000+08:00

I believe I acquire the love for gadgets and gizmos from my dad. In some ways, I am even more of a gadget fiend than he is because I buy them even when I don't understand them. Like these sewing gizmos I purchased on 4th November 2011 at the Golden Dragon Store, possibly Singapore's oldest haberdashery. Manufactured by Clover, these accessories were part of their Antique Range and I bought almost every item available that day, even the completely useless ones, just because they were too pretty to resist...

or maybe not, like this one for instance.

It looks like a weapon, doesn't it? A finger duster?

It is actually a thread cutter ring and is supposed to make cutting thread easy.

Verdict: 100 points for cool factor but 50 for convenience-
easier to use a pair of scissors or your teeth.

About this one that looks like an iron mask, I have a secret to confess. I had never really understood thimble and how it was used until a month ago and this was after I had started stitching for 2 over years. As far as I was concerned, thimbles were vases for dollhouses.

It was only after I had started on the 32 count canvas, broken about a dozen needles and suffered from really sore thumbs that I appreciated thimbles. Now I wear three of them when I sew.

This one I bought without knowing what it was for.

I only found out it was a threader after I reached home and looked at the cover carefully. It is way too big for petite point needles and is therefore completely useless to me. In any case, I have never used a threader because I don't need it. Yet.

If you think this one is a pin cushion (the red part), then you and I think alike

but we are wrong.

This is a needle sharpener and polisher.

It is no use for cleaning rusty needles though.

Can you guess what the bigger thimble is for?

Yes, that is a pencil sharpener

and they are for sharpening these.

I went shopping at Golden Dragon Store because I started stitching again on 28 Oct 2011. This carpet was started on 3 February this year and it was so difficult I stopped for more than 8 months. I also made a mistake (as usual) with the count and had to undo the stitches at the border. It is the hardest carpet that I have done to date because I used 4 threads for a 32 count canvas and I am going blind trying to find the holes.

This is where I am now, going very, very slowly.

You know what they say about how a bad workman blames his tools?

For me, it is a case of a bad workman needing many tools, the fancier the better.

So I say, indulge, my dear friends,when you can. Spoil yourselves with pretty tools especially if they can make you pick up where you left off and love what you do again. And now, for some late night stitching.

Day 279- Young Maya

2011-10-31T20:57:00.002+08:00

My name is Maya.

I think a lot.

I then write what I think

in my diary.

But mostly I dream.

You can find me

sometimes sitting behind our wooden gate

and other times

on the threshold of our front door.

But you will find me always

with fresh flowers in my hair,

a pencil in my hand

and a diary in the other.

I made young Maya from this resin couple on 1st October 2011. I found them in a shop in Little India possibly around a year ago. From the moment I set my eyes on her, I knew she was the young daughter in my Rolla household. This girl is very small and makes a perfect 10 year old. I don't know what to do with the boy yet or if he will ever meet young Maya again. Let's see what fate decides for them. Dolls have destinies too , you know.

Day 282- More of Chatuchak

2011-10-27T00:01:00.000+08:00

Sunflower Screen - part to enter

First stop, Flora and Foliage.

For those of you who love flowers and plants, JJ has an incredibly extensive garden sector that is well worth a trip.

Every time I visit this treasure trove of all-you-need-for-a-tropical-garden, I half wish I live in Bangkok. How else can I bring home these amazing cascading silver needles?

Or those giant bulbs of hyacinths promising blooms I can already see in my head, down to their hues, thanks to the differentiating strips of reds, blues and yellows.

Still, for you and me who live a few custom officers away,

we need not go home empty handed.

There's always these charming hanging planters of cane baskets

and some very versatile perennials that will never die.

Whether it is for you,

for your friends,

or even for your dolls

Plants and planters at home in Singapore

Chautuchak really has it all.

Jasmine and other flower garlands for prayers

And because the Thai people really love their flowers,

they are everywhere.

From ancient times on an emperor's dress

to a pair of vintage spittoons from the 50s

or these three vases of traditional painted masks.

And till today, you continue to see them

in their cloth sandals,

on their soft clutches,

even funny signage for loos.

There are flowers on the ceilings,

flowers on the floor,

flowers, flowers, flowers

on drawers, cupboards, doors.

Even in shops selling products that have nothing to do with flowers,

there is still space reserved for favourite plants.

Combining their love for flowers and their obsession with details,

the Thai craftsmen have truly refined the making of artificial flowers

down to an art.

They use natural materials like sanoh, a softwood perfect for texture

or dried Sesbania leaves

so that their man-made lotuses look like Mother Nature's.

I often cannot tell the real

from the fake.

Then there are the colours,

colours that leave you spinning and giddy

so deceptive they make you believe rags is
high fashion

USB

so intoxicating they make cute irresistible

(even if you are not a fan of cute).

Colours that make your spirit soar
quicken your breath
excite your senses

so much so that you don't even realise that
you have already walked for 5 hours.

How time flies...I am tired and thirsty and I am sure you are too.

Let's rest here, shall we?

I don't think I can walk anymore.

O dear, and we are only at flowers and foliage.

I haven't even shown you Pets, Ceramics, Handicraft, Miniatures!

But before I go,

I just want to thank all of you.

It is exhilarating for me that we have almost 25 people returning. Especially since this is my first trip to JJ where I did not end up spending the bulk of my time just squatting at some miniature shops. I started the trip determined to show those of my friends here a more complete picture of the flea market I love so I went to the sectors that I hardly visited.

The people gazing , picture taking and of course, buying, buying, buying turned out to be such a pleasure that it was the most fun I had ever had, shopping on my own. In a way, this was all because of you.

Day 282- Chatuchak Weekend Market

2011-10-25T01:44:00.001+08:00

Chatuchak Weekend Market in Bangkok by Pinyada Ratanasungk from Bangkok, Thailand
Grand prize winner of the Marvellous Map Contest organised by theydraw&travel.com.

I was in Bangkok for 4 days between the 8th-11th of this month with my sisters and dad. I almost always planned my trip there over a weekend so that I could visit Chatuchak, the flea market touted to be the largest in the world.

With an estimated 15000 stalls squashed side by side on a 35 acre land, this weekend market receives about 200,000-300,000 visitors a day. It is like a city unto itself and it even has its own map!

Chatuchak or Jatujak or JJ Market as it is now more commonly known seems to unite everything buyable under the sun and it is of course impossible to see the whole market in 1 day. In fact, I have yet to visit every sector even though there was once when I was there three days in a row!

Some of you may have noticed that I often mentioned JJ market or Chatuchak in this blog, far too many times maybe. It is after all, my numero uno favourite flea market. Let me be your guide and show you why.

Opening Hours: Sunrise

Closing Hours :Sunset

Days: Weekends Only starting from Fridays for some shops.

Be prepared for a long walk in hot weather.
So wear your most comfortable pair of shorts and flip flops.
Bring your map but enjoy getting lost anyway
(which you inevitably will)

WELCOME TO CHATUCHAK

confusing, contrasting and crazily creative.

Let's start with this narrow lane..

a makeshift stall of homemade craft?

And just as you are thinking folk art being hawked off in a nook with no vendor?,

the lady boss appears, as if from thin air.
Don't be fooled by her age, she is sharper than a samurai sword and can
probably run faster than you.
When she senses danger (police), she and her plastic bags of art will disappear quicker than you can ask how much?

Let's move now to the fashion sector.
Say hello to the owner

cum bag designer

cum salesgirl.

And in a marketplace of the tens of thousands

where differentiation is key,

she is also sometimes the model

in her own billboard
lauding the wonders of washable hair colours

or the secrets of your future.

But there is no better way to convince your customer than to say
I use my own products too.
Squirt squirt...blood streaming down my eyes
squeeze..an evil laugh.
Halloween specials! You can't get any scarier than this!

Or maybe you can.
240 Baht (S$10) for the big hands , S$5 for the small
1 for a lizard
and a whopping S$15 for the combo of hand and lizard!

Here he is, the HANDsome artist with his HANDmade HANDs.

Alright, alright, enough with the HAND jokes already! Let's move on, shall we?

The HANDicraft sector?

The first and only sector I would usually visit, I could stay here for hours, maybe days.
Like when I sat in this shop watching him

make these and
he was explaining to me how he used local clay for them
and I was telling him how a rat had eaten my clay cucumber and chillis
and all the time, hardly understanding each other.

These are the people of Chatuchak.

It matters not whether they are making art,

making music

or just plain making a living,

whether they are cute

or young

or old,

there is invariably a quality about them I admire

and they are the reasons why I kept coming back.

Shall we return again tomorrow?

Day 284- Piccola Posta delle India

2011-10-18T02:07:00.003+08:00

13th October, I arrived at work, after a sleep deprived 4 days in Bangkok, to find this beautiful box on my desk. It was at once familiar and surprising.

Familiar because I have seen this envelope before. How can I forget the Persian blue peacock sprawling in the background of handwriting that I see only in old documents these days? I also remember how it made me pine for good old fashioned letters written entirely by hand.

I really did not expect a box of these letters to arrive right at my doorstep. How was it that she could read my mind? Maybe if you pine hard enough....these thoughts made me smile and for the rest of the day, I forgot to be grouchy from sleeplessness.

The box came with two carpets which Flora printed. It was as if my letters flew here on these magic carpets. Air mail could not have been delivered in a more charming way.

Shall we rummage through the box

and see what secrets await us?

First, a trio of Ganesha postcards; so delightfully illustrated

that they could only be meant for the young mistress of the house.

She, who loves to write and who will surely treasure these for life.

Here are more from places that our girl has yet to see.

Destinations where love ones once stood

and

at a particular spot in those places,

had written to say they missed her,

loved her

and how they wished she was there too.

One day, she too may stand at that spot

and

write a similar card for another whom she love as much.

And look at these envelopes!

Do you know how precious these are?

Not only are they pretty to look at,

they also serve as priceless records.

A reminder of where, who, when

someone sent news, thoughts or gifts.

Something which might have made you smile

or cry

or jump up and down in excitement,

sometimes anger.

"And then there's the mail.

Old yellowed letters, written with pen and ink, stained with tears and rain....

Those are the words of my friend Flora,

words she used to express why she loved old mail and why

"For a few pennies, I take home letters from people who do not know,

who have lived their lives when I still did not exist

and continue to live between the lines of their letters..."

Although Flora had created these lines for me in words that are foreign to us, I understood her meaning completely. Her gesture is a clear and unequivocal one of love.

I can never thank her enough, not even with 1000 words.

Postscript

I have not been able to write much since my return from Bangkok. Trust me, I have tried to, many times but the words won't flow from my fingers. Every line is an effort, each word a chore . The writing finally happened with this post on Flora's mail. Writing about writing letters, maybe that was what did the trick. Or maybe it is because I truly understand the significance of mail. I never throw old letters away and believe it or not, I have kept each and every brown envelope that contain miniature gifts made for me. There were so many of you from all over the world who have shared my journey and made me smile, and I want never to forget who you are, where you are from and when you did what you did.

Quite by chance, I found this video which I thought was really apt for this post. The song is called "Postcards from Italy" and I want to especially dedicate it to my dear friend, Flora, who is feeling really down with a bad flu that will not go away. So scroll up, my friends, switch off the darn music (which incidentally is the instrumental version of this song) and watch this instead.

The person who posted this video described it really well-

"Two figures emerge from one and set out on their own journeys, coming together in the end"

Just like how we connect through our shared love for miniatures and the gifts for each other, don't you think?

Day 280 & 281-A Love Story

2011-10-08T02:53:00.001+08:00

5th October

Today, I want to tell you a love story told to me by my grandfather. The story may be a simple one, he said, but the love it depicts is no less epic in proportion than the best fairy tales.

This was how the story began.

She was a most beautiful Banjaran gypsy girl who could make a hard man cry with her sitar. Talented with her hands and gifted with charisma, she was sung in countless songs and the subject of mysterious portraits. Men wanted her and women wanted to be her but all who met her, loved her.

He was a poet, an artist, a hardworking man; he could speak to flowers and make them smile. A voracious reader, a keen listener, he was also a problem solver and nobody's fool. It was no exaggeration when I told you, he was every fellow's best friend and every woman's dream.

It was a sunny day when he first saw her in a painting from across a busy street and in that instant, he knew he had found his one true love. He begged the vendor to sell him the painting but the vendor kept saying no. So he came back to the same sidewalk three days in a row until the vendor gave in.

When he took the painting home, he wrote on its back , the time and date and place they 1st met.

The vendor could not have been more wrong if he thought that was the last he saw of our man. He returned the next day and everyday since and each time he would ask: have you seen her, my friend, have she come by yet?; to which the vendor would invariably answer: I have never met her, I don't know who she is. One day, the vendor asked him why and he told him it was her eyes. Those eyes that could read his deepest secrets and see his darkest fears. The eyes that spoke without judging to assure him that all would be right.

It was exactly 3660 days and 110 matchmaking attempts later that he finally found her. NOT that his father approve of any of these matchmaking, my grandfather was quick to add. That was the day the vendor told him with an excitement the vendor could barely contain : I have seen her today; she finally came.

He knew straightaway it was her. The years did not lessen her beauty; in fact, the wisdom only enhanced it.

And even though she had never met him, it was as if she knew he had been looking for her all these years.

At first, grandfather did not approve. He called my father a crazy romantic and my mother a fool. Him for loving a woman in a portrait, her for agreeing to marry a man she hardly knew. It was not long however, before she won grandfather over. She reminded me somewhat of my own true love, grandfather mused, a mother my son never knew for she lost her life so he could have his.

They married with his blessings and a year later, they had me. And so they live happily after, this unconventional union borne of love but that was not the end of the story.

Grandfather told me that if I only have one purpose in life, it will be to tell the world what great love is.

The kind that exists between my ma- who once told me when I ran away crying in my room after seeing their first quarrel that it is alright to disagree sometimes with the people we love; that I must not be afraid of it because love always prevail and forgive-

and pa-who stands firm without insisting and is never shy to show the world he loves ma dearly even when she is wrong.

They were two people who could not have been more distinct from each other. Yet, they seemed together even when they were apart because you could no longer see one without the other. To me, great love is really as simple as that.

Day 271, 273, 277 & 278- Our Wooden Gate and Beyond

2011-10-01T21:19:00.002+08:00

29th September, cloudy

Can you hear it, dear Diary,there are new sounds around the house. A sharp eeeeeee, ewwwwww, eeeee and then a soft ling -alinglingling. Like a little out of tune song, I can hear it especially clearly when I am sitting here, in the living room. In fact, I can see where it is coming from.

That's the creaking of our new wooden gate, dear Diary, built barely a week ago and already sounding old. Papa and OM built it right after the rat incident. They built it high enough to keep the animals out and Baby in but small enough not to crowd the house.

OM painted the stone steps leading from the gate crimson, to match the carpet in the room. He wanted our guests to feel really important walking to our house with this red carpet treatment. I thought that was very clever.

When Mama first saw our gate, she had protested and insisted that the rats could still come through. So Papa strung some cowbells and wound them around the gate. Now whenever anyone or anything comes through, the gate will sing and announce their arrival, he said. I think Papa made the gate creaked on purpose.

There it goes again, the ling -alinglingling.

But it's just the wind. It looks like the rain may come and then what a lovely afternoon this will be. I love sitting here to watch the rain. Now that we have a gate, it's like being inside and outside all at once. Seeing the prettiness just beyond our little wooden gate makes me feel a little giddy with happiness and I too want to sing ling-a linglingling.

With the rain and Papa's tender, loving care, even our cactus have bloomed. OM was just exclaiming this morning: Those blushing red buds swaying shyly with the winds, now that's a sight to behold.

Today, we also have these giant purple mushrooms that seemed to have come up from nowhere. How amazing that they are in the same purple as the sea lavender? Can colours be contagious, I wonder.

And if you examine the pinkies, you can see how much they resemble the cactus flowers. I am really thinking now that flowers may start to look like each other if they stay close enough.

Then there's Miss Unusual. I call her that because she has strange black flowers. She is a desert plant and is very fussy. Not too much or too little water and only the best, like the water we used to wash our fishes or rice. We must not forget too that she wants egg shells for soil.

Thanks to the rich food, we now have so many Babies Unusual that Papa re-potted some and put them in the artists' workroom for inspiration.

These flowers were planted by Papa since I was a baby. They were planted just around the huge water barrel outside the kitchen so that I could not climb near the barrel and then accidentally fall into it. This still works for Baby, of course.

But it no longer works with me!

Haha!

I am now tall enough to look into the barrel

and see myself in the water and..

MAYA! MAYA! WHERE ARE YOU?

Coming , Mama!

Day 274- Rat!

2011-09-25T22:47:00.001+08:00

30th August, Chilling!

O diary, the house has been ransacked! If we didn't know better, we would have thought a giant creature came and stomped through the house. From the droppings, Mama told me it was a rat. Maybe two. Right after she said that, we both gave a loud yelp and clung to each other, looking for a high place to stand. We were both trembling with fear and I felt sick in my stomach.

Looking at the devastation around the house, mainly just the ground floor, the rat must have been a huge one. Lion size even. In the living room, he managed to topple Mama's stack of embroidery and shifted the low table . He must have knocked over the food cover first before dragging the table, overturning it . Weirdly, the food on that table was left untouched. OM joked that the rat must have been enraged when he saw that the food was terrible, so he went on this crazy rampage . I didn't think that was funny. I was frightened out of my wits and worried to death! The kitchen was an even bigger mess but the rat also did not touch Kivachi's platter or Sindhi's persimmons.

But all our greens were gone. Not a single chilli or lady's finger was left for us, except for some stalks. He even ate every one of our cucumbers. We found two half eaten potatoes which he obviously did not enjoy. This must be the first vegan rat we have had the pleasure of meeting. Mama and I refused to go into the kitchen till OM checked and made sure that no rat was found. We were fretting so loudly out on the porch that Sindhi came over to see if someone had been murdered!

When she heard what happened, Sindhi went home and returned with a tray of purple brinjals. Take these, she said, they are not green so the rat won't want them. Mama was so touched that she gave Sindhi a tight embrace, nearly choking her. Sindhi then passed us a head of cabbage which was obviously more than a week old and was beginning to brown. I looked at Mama and she looked at me and I was just thinking of saying something polite like we could use it for curry when Sindhi quickly explained that it was for the Rat! Green, see? That means rat's, she said, you have to give it something or it may start eating your green sari, lady. Only Sindhi giggled at her own joke. Mama and I both thought Sindhi could be right.

So we left the baskets of vegetables back in the kitchen and we cleared up the mess. Mama put citronella scented cotton balls and a hundred moth balls all over the house. There were at least 10 traps laid too.

Now, we wait....

4th September

Just a quick note, Diary, to let you know that the rat was caught this morning. The citronella balls worked only for one night. The rat came back the day after and ate more green vegetables that Mama had replaced. He did not touch the brinjals but he also did not want the cabbage. A very crafty rat, he sidestepped all the traps. Mama finally called the rat catchers who taped our traps down . Now you know why our traps did not work! The rat was caught after that.

I did not dare look but I am very sure it was lion size.

Day 262 & 266-Autumn Harvest

2011-09-24T01:56:00.001+08:00

A harvest day in August, balmy

My dear Diary,

What a big, big harvest day we had today. Surely, it must be the biggest I have seen. OM thinks so too for I heard him exclaimed :this must be our largest gathering in the last decade! Our crops were so plentiful that we could give baskets of them away. They were mainly potatoes, cucumbers, big fiery green chillis and some lady's fingers.

When we brought some of ours to Kivachi, she gave us this huge platter of her produce in return. There were so many varieties of vegetables that her platter was like a burst of fall colours. Pale pumpkins with blood red sweet potatoes, dusty small onions and tomatoes in 2 shades of green. She knew I love carrots so she gave us the really orange ones and although I really don't like mushrooms, Kivachi knew mama loves them so she dug out three precious ones for her. She even managed to grow some avocados which was really difficult in our region. She did not have many of them so she gave us just two but what a treat that was already! She also threw in some of her own potatoes, for some comparison, she said. Mine may be smaller than yours, she told OM, but I think they are just as tasty. OM snorted when he heard that and piled even more of our own potatoes into her baskets. You will want to throw away yours after you have tasted mine, he said. We all laughed at their exchange. Everyone knows Kivachi grows the best vegetables in the village, maybe even the best in the whole of Rajasthan!

Thanks to Lakshmi's good harvest blessings, our luck just kept getting better. When we went over to our new neighbour, Sindhi and gifted her with a sack of our potatoes, she gave us a present too. Way better than our potatoes, it was a basket worth of luscious, juicy persimmons. We found out to our great delight that Sindhi too is a gifted farmer. Mama is saving those persimmons which she is treating like gold for the harvest festival. I just can't wait to sink my teeth into one of those yummy fruits and have persimmon juice running down my chin! Hmmmmmm...

I just love harvest time. The kitchen is always full. Full of fruits and vegetables, fishes from the river, sacks of grains.

Even the old crate in the corner is never empty. For now it is filled with Kivachi's best coconuts, ready to be grated for Mama's famous curries .

Harvest time is a time when our home is filled with the rewards of our hard work and the gifts of good neighbours. Papa says this is the time we can really count our blessings and if that is so, then I think we are well and truly blessed.

Day 274- My Garden Of Neglected Things

2011-09-13T01:53:00.001+08:00

We have a display cabinet that used to showcase pretty merchandise in a lifestyle store. It was offered to me when the store ceased business and would have gone to the garbage disposal man if I had said no. I simply could not allow that. Standing tall and clumsy in a corner of the walkway to the kitchen, holding mainly my art supplies and carelessly chucked materials, it was probably the least loved piece of furniture in my home. In fact, my housemate still hates it.

He calls it the chunky piece of junk and has been bugging me to throw it out.

On the top shelf of this cabinet stood a dozen or so empty glass bottles. One or two of them have been there since 2006 when the cabinet first arrived. Over the years I have amassed a small collection of these bottles, some added after boozing with my girlfriends but most after nursing a couple of broken or lonely or confused hearts. Now these bottles, unlike the cabinet, were completely useless and not even particularly pretty. I kept them anyway, to serve as reminders, I thought. Truth is I can longer remember the occasions they were associated with.

So there they remained, on that top shelf , collecting dust and faded memories.

Stashed deep inside another cupboard, hidden in dirty plastic bags were bunches and bunches of plastic plants. The bulk of them were bought when I first started making miniatures, meaning these plastic plants and the plastic bags they came with were at least two years old, some even three. I wanted them for my Maharaja's palace, my tribal house, my firefly park.

Alas, it was a case of out of sight, out of mind

because none of these plants were used in any of my projects.

So 2 weeks ago, in between rusting gardening tools for the kurinji flowers and dirtying light-bulb bottles for the window sills of my tribal house , I decided it was time I clear some of those cobwebs.

I started the process by throwing away some of these things. There were not many of them because I kept thinking up excuses why they should stay. Like this metal woven cylinder that I could not even identify. I know though that it was an engine part of my old car, a vintage Alfa Romeo that has long gone to the scrap yard. Look at how they weaved those metal strips. What is it, do you know?

Then there were the broken branches and a couple of fallen fruits. I could not bear to throw them away when they looked so sweet on Flora's scallop shell.

And I just have to keep these tin cans for tea. They were from two mooncake festivals ago and I still remember why we got them, how it happened, what was said and who I was with.

You must have guessed by now that I was trying to create a tropical garden with a motley collection of neglected things, souvenirs from my past, presents for the present.

Tribal bowls from Africa, a trip I made more than 10 years ago.

A wooden bottle canteen from the same trip.

And Win's present, a loud red box which he had bought from the salvation army thrift store.

My brother knows me well.

It is fall now.

My favourite time of the year.

For the 1st time in my life, I see these glorious leaves in ways I have never seen before.

So I used them in my garden, as a canvas to pay tribute to the autumn colours and my friends.

Thank you, Amy, for showing me how.

Now if you ever visit, my garden in a display shelf is just around this corner.

Open the left most window of this walkway,

you'll see a garden with a great big tree.

Look through the same window from out there,

you'll find my garden with the bottled trees.

This garden is nowhere close to the other, not by a million miles,

but at least, with it, I can pretend I am a gardener.

Day 276-Home In A Handbasket

2011-09-06T02:22:00.000+08:00

31st August, Bedtime

Dear Diary,

I weaved you a home today, one that is just big enough to hold you snugly with a wee bit of room left to fit Dollie so that she can keep you company.

Two old friends kept safely together in a handbasket and going wherever I go. Mama need never nag me again for leaving you or Dollie lying around the house, always asking if anyone has seen either one of you.

It was not easy weaving this handbasket (2 handled and 8 ribbed). Until this one, I have only been weaving single handle, 6 ribbed frame baskets.

Making the handles was really tricky and I did such a messy job trying to lock the 8 spokes to the main frame. I nearly threw this basket away because the handle and rim binding was so ugly.

It was Mama who came to the rescue. She brought out two white paper flowers that she bought from JJ market 2 years ago and showed me how to stain the flowers with coffee to give them a rustic feel. She then told me to fasten those flowers with some gum onto the ugly binding so that we could hide the untidy weaves.

It didn't turn out too badly. Although it is still far from perfect, at least it is no longer ugly.

And it is really nice knowing that you both are safe and close when I am sleeping. Now let me kiss you both goodnight and place you back in your home. I will see you both in the morning.

Day 274-275-Heaven In A Wild Flower

2011-09-01T00:41:00.002+08:00

28th August, Late Evening

Dear Diary,

Last night, after a very silent dinner, Papa took me aside and told me to prepare for a trip to the hills early in the morning. We were to set off before dawn and we, meaning I, was not to tell anyone, especially Mama. Papa then sent me off to pack a basket of gardening tools and to bring another empty one for our trip.

Our day started so early, I was still bleary eyed and woozy as I stumbled closely behind Papa, mostly in the dark. I was therefore totally unprepared for what was before me as we approached the hills.

My dear Diary, I wish you have eyes so you can see it for yourself this magical, most beautiful garden that God has created for us. A whole mountain covered in blue! When we got closer, we had a chance to examine these flowers up close and they really were quite magnificent. According to Papa, these flowers were called kurinji and that they bloomed only once in 12 years.

Papa told me that he had never missed a trip to the hills every time the kurinji bloomed. His first trip was with his own father and it was so special that he wanted each of his child's first experience with the kurinji mountain to be with him. I have no words to describe the beauty of what I saw. I just know that when I turn 21, I will be back there, when the kurinji next flower. Hopefully, I will have learnt enough words by then.

Both of us spent some time harvesting enough kurinji to fill the empty basket I was carrying. Papa planned to plant these in our garden. A peace offering to Mama, he said.

Papa taught me how to pick the ones that could flower again without having to wait twelve years for the next bloom. With careful tending, our kurinji may very well grace our porch again when I turn 10 next year.

Mama was out at the neighbour's when we got back so we quickly went to work, going without lunch. Papa let me use the blue spade which he said had been in the family for three generations. I was so proud I worked harder than usual.

We made very good progress at first and finished the 1st part of the garden fairly quickly. This was where I spent the most time in, mainly with vegetables. I think this is going to be my favourite spot from now on.

The later part did not go quite as smoothly. I think the blazing sun and our hunger slowed us down because before we could finish, Mama had returned.

Oh my, you should have heard Mama! She made both Papa and I jumped out of our skins with her screams. Screams of delight, of course. I think her tears were streaming down her face when she ran to hug us. She kept saying "So beautiful, so wonderful, you brought the miracle kurinji home! I cannot believe it, I cannot believe it..so beautiful, so wonderful.." and on and on.

And then she asked if we had eaten and when we shook our heads, she hurried us into the house so she could prepare some lunch for us. She hushed us when we told her we had not finished with the planting.

As Mama prepared the food, I slipped out to watch our garden again.

And as I walked back and peeped through our kitchen window, I thought I saw Mama hugging Papa and kissing him. It was hard to see through the broken blinds. But I definitely heard her say to him " I am so lucky I have you."

I don't think they will be quarrelling about bottles for a while.

Day 275-Bottles

2011-08-28T02:11:00.005+08:00

27th August, Noon

Dear Diary,

Mama is NOT happy and I can hear how unhappy she is all the way out here at the porch. She is in the kitchen complaining to Papa about the bottles. Must be the 100th time by now.

These bottles sell for 2 rups each in town and Papa was supposed to have done so months ago. Papa hates going to town though. He hates the noise, he hates the crowd and he hates how the streets are always dusty and filthy.

Papa can't wait for me to grow old enough to run these errands for him but I hate town too. I think Baby can go when he is old enough. In the meantime, these bottles are really adding up. Mama line them up on the window ledge to remind Papa everyday of them. I am counting 11 on this side of the window.

And there are 14 over at the other ledge! O my! These bottles are really grimy too having been out in the open for so many months. Papa thinks it is Mama's fault because she was the one who put the bottles there.

At the rate they go at each other, I suspect this Battle of the Bottles will only end when Baby grows up. By that time, the whole house will be filled with thousands of old and grimy bottles! O my!

Day 227, 247 & 265- Salad Days

2011-08-22T23:12:00.009+08:00

1st July, A Really Boring Morning

Dear Diary,

I am so bored, bored, bored. I have just been peeling, peeling, peeling the whole morning and the end is no where in sight. I don't think I have ever hated salad as much as I do today. Salad is B-O-R-I-N-G and preparing for it is even WORSE.

Even though I have brought the chore to the front porch which is supposed to be a whole lot more exciting than the kitchen, nothing is happening. The wind is still, the tree is quiet, even my toes have gone to sleep!

I really wish I am far away from here now. I bet you, girls of those faraway places don't suffer like I do. I wonder about them sometime, you know. Like for instance, what do Spanish little girls do on mornings like this?

I bet you they don't have to drink their black tea out of a broken old mug like mine. I know I was the one who refused to let Mama throw this mug out. After all, I did grow up with it since Mama had used it to feed me my 1st daal when I was nine months old. But today, I think I have finally outgrown it. Begone, ye old mug! Right after I finish my tea of course.

And I bet you those girls don't have to peel anything with blunt cucumber knives either. It has taken me forever just to finish one cucumber and that is not all.

Look at this whole basket of potatoes I have to peel after that! When I grow up, I shall ban mashed potatoes from the dinner table. Or any kind of potatoes. I will spare my children from having to peel them.

O me dear Lakshmi! I forgot there is this whole pail of cucumber I have yet to do. I can cry right now.

I am sure Spanish people have servants to do all these tedious chores for them. Even better, maybe they have machines that can peel the skin off anything in the blink of an eye. All you have to do is to throw everything you want to peel into this super machine and Voila!

Do you know Spanish little girls love to say Voila!? OM told me so. When I asked him how he knew, he said his Spanish girlfriend told him. Giggle, giggle, giggle. OM is so crazy sometimes. I don't think Grandmama is Spanish at all!

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh, there is something zooming over my head! I dare not look!

Ooooooh..

Awwwwwww

Diary, diary, diary. You won't believe what I have just seen. It's the most incredibly pretty bird and it just flew right onto my seat. It is playing with a loose hemp right now! It looks like the littlest phoenix. She is just so cute!

Now she's flown to our birdhouse! Maybe she will settle there? I bet you she flew here all the way from Spain too and needs a place to rest her wings. I have to run in and tell Mama.

Guess what? Mama said we should name the bird Evalina! And that we will be having my favourite fried potato patties for dinner!

You know something, Diary? Maybe Salad Days aren't so bad after all.

Day 252, 271,273- Mama's Kitchen Stoves

2011-08-21T21:45:00.004+08:00

23rd June, Scorching Hot Afternoon

Dear Diary,

Sorry I haven't written for a while. School has started again and what with chores and homework, homework, homework (not just from school, but from Ma, Pa and OM too!), I have no time to myself anymore. I must PROTEST or insist that diary writing be made part of the curriculum. After all, it improves my writing, right?

It is so hot today but Mama has asked me to start the fire and prepare the stove for cooking dinner. I think I will just melt if I am to start the fire now. So I am taking a little time to cool off and write. Let's pick up where I left off and write about my favourite kitchen pieces today.

First off, Mama's intelligent stoves invented by none other then Mama herself. The one inside the kitchen was the first one she made. She said it was when we moved into this house. She made it with mud and then decorated it really pretty but that's not the best part.

This stove has a drawer that automatically collects the ashes from the burning charcoal. There is some kind of a sieve built by her in between the stove and the drawer so that only the ashes falls through. And then it only collects on the left side of the drawer so that you can put something else, like logs or charcoal on the right side. This makes cooking very clean.

Ash is also good for cleaning metal pots and pans because it gets rid of grease easily.

But Mama was not completely satisfied with this stove because it is not smokeless and she is always concerned about how all that will affect my health. Sometimes it gets so bad that I cannot even see through the fog the smoke creates. So I made this hand fan. I used it not only to fan the fire but also to chase away the smoke when I walk. Everyone thought I was really clever.

Anyway, that was why Mama made this second stove. It is meant for the outdoors. Mama loves cooking outdoor. It is easier to clean up after and the smoke dissipates into the sky without choking anyone. This outdoor stove is placed under a mud made chamber which shields it from the elements.

The really amazing thing about this stove is that it is smokeless or almost. Mama told me she made this stove with a material that can withstand much higher temperature than the traditional mud stove. It is thus better at holding in heat which means it burns less fuel.

This also means less back breaking chore of collecting wood.

Hey, it's evening already! Time really flies. I better start the fire now before Mama screams at me. I know how to pacify her though. I will just show her what I wrote today. She always smiles when she reads my diary.

Day 252, 254 & 272-All Quiet On The Kitchen Front Continues

2011-08-20T23:08:00.001+08:00

19th June, After Dinner, Night

Dear Diary,

Back and yay, yay! I can write for a while longer tonight because Mama has given me one of the two oil lamps in the house. Everyone else is outside by the pond chatting with OM, even Baby who invariably falls asleep in no time at all, nestled between Mama's breasts to the sound of all their voices. Mama says it is because he feels secure in the company of his family and so our voices makes the best lullaby in the world for him.

Ah look! The last amber in the stove has just died and the kitchen is even quieter now that the logs have stopped hissing. I can still smell dinner, a most fulfilling affair that left everyone contented because Mama made her famous curry fish head. Another deep breath...and I can feel the cool air on my back and hmmmmmm, The Evening's Bouquet. Oh, oh, oh, here it comes! This sudden surge of happiness I always get at moments like these. I call them my perfect moments, you know, times when you think life is good and nothing can go wrong and everyone loves me and I love everyone and we are all together and the night is just at its best.

I am so happy I am even happy with you, Pencil. I think you are priceless! Papa made you from a sliver of granite and he took ages sharpening you against the wall. A piece of soft paper is glued around you so that my hand won't be stained when I write and then when I need to sharpen you some more, I just tear the top part of the paper off. Papa is now thinking of a way to encase you in wood. I think Papa is just the smartest man in the world, after grandpa OM of course, who made many, many things for the house.

Like this tinderbox for instance which he made a long time ago. Although it is already old, rusty and dirty, I still think it is a work of art. And I love playing with what's inside. Just last month, Mama decided that I was responsible enough to make fire on my own and she taught me how to. What she did not know was that I already knew how a year ago. OM taught me and told me that the lesson was his present to me for my 8th birthday. I was not supposed to tell Mama though. Well, at least, I don't have to do it in secret anymore.

OM made our plate rack too. The plate rack is HUGE and it took all four of us, Papa, Mama, OM and me, two full days just to put it up. So many "Oh my"s were said that O-My is now OM's nickname. OM said we had to make a GIANT plate rack because well, we have so many plates. And despite its size, the rack nearly wasn't big enough to fit our biggest which Mama used only during special occasions.

But Mama was too clever. She suggested that we placed the dish at an angle with its head touching the ceiling. And it worked! Now, our rack holds all the plates with the biggest fitting snugly into the highest shelf. These days, whenever Mama wants to tell someone "every problem has a solution", she says "when you run out of wall space, use the ceiling". I think Mama is the BRAIN of the family and that she is the smartest one of all.

I love watching the rack at the end of the day when all the plates are cleaned and neatly stacked and everything looks ...oops! Is that curry stain I see on that 1st plate in the 3rd shelf? Mama is going to give me an earful tomorrow when she sees this.

I am so sleepy now, Diary, I can hardly open my eyes. I am going to bed but tomorrow, I will tell you the kitchen pieces that I love the most. They are all made by Mama and I am so proud of her.

Good night, Diary.

Good night, Kitchen.

Day 252 & 254-All Quiet On The Kitchen Front

2011-08-20T18:17:00.008+08:00

19th June, Dusk

Dear Diary,

Finally, I am able to steal a little time and I am now sitting here on the kitchen floor, all by myself. Just me and the silence , you, and a pencil in my hand. And it is so, so nice. This is my favourite time of the day. Dusk. The time for a little respite before dinner is prepared. When the sky is at its prettiest and the evening wind's really gentle, carrying with it the fragrance of the lotus flowers right here into the kitchen . I call this "My Evening's Bouquet". What do you think, Diary, is that clever?

I am writing this quickly by the last dusk light because soon, night will fall and it may be too dark for me to continue. There just aren't enough oil lamps around the house and Mama has forbidden us to use any candles again. Until dinner time, she says because Papa has not gone to town to replenish our supplies. It is a good thing we grow our own vegetables and the river bless us with fishes each day or we may starve waiting for Papa to go into town for supplies. He hates it there, all of us do

Uh Oh, Mama is calling, I have to run but I will be back ..