Thanks for the shade...and the sunlight

A tree in Tanjong Pagar. It offers a lot of shade -- but permits shafts of sunlight to sieve through. 

IT was a very hectic week for me, postponing a major event and arranging a replacement date etc. So the fact that a great man has left this world has not really sunk into me. Now there's a bit of time to reflect, I do feel a certain hollow in my heart. I would like to dedicate this picture of a great tree to the memory of Mr Lee Kuan Yew. Not only did he make Singapore a garden city, Mr Lee also sowed the seeds of strength, belief in oneself, commitment and passion -- free for anyone who care to reap.

Funny or not?

I USED to make everyone roar with laughter each time I told these jokes:

Motorcyclist with pillion rider stopped at red light. Halfway, pillion rider stood up to heave pants. Green light. Motorcyclist revved and zoomed ahead eager to be the first to go at green. Pillion rider got left behind, standing at the junction. (Based on a true story, can't remember which traffic light though..)

Prisoners told jokes to each other to pass the time. After a while, their repertoire ran out and was repeated so often that someone would just have to say "Joke Number Three" or "Number 10" and everybody would laugh hysterically.

Starving prisoners stared at tattered and torn picture of a salted fish and rubbed their tummies. Suddenly, one prisoner smacked another on the head and said,  "Oui, you stared twice!"

If cars can park at a parking lot, where can a dog park? A barking lot. (This was from a kid's book. I told that to kids at the library, but they didn't find it funny. My adult friends roared with laughter each time, slapping their thighs.)

Funnily, I don't find them funny now. Wonder why they were so hilarious in the first place. Of course, that was some 30 years ago when I regaled my friends with such jokes. Always well received.

A great childhood joy

COME, lick this pot clean! And I would gallop to the table. It would be a pot that mum had just finished scraping clean of its agar agar mixture. So, the leftover in the pot would still be warm.

Or, it could be licking a can of condensed milk after mum had emptied it into a container. Mind the tin lid edge, she would remind me.

The milk cans were especially nice, but  not much left in there. I would complain jokingly to mum that she could have left more in the can for me to lick, and scrape. That would set mum off on a tirade on the many unfortunate souls who would not have even tasted a drop of condensed milk.

Today, I followed a YouTube recipe on making ice cream without machine and churning. Just mix cream whipped till thick with condensed milk and put into freezer. How simple. There was a marvellous mixing bowl to lick, as well as an emptied can of condensed milk. Still a great joy.

Scavengers of the rubble

What "treasures' are there for the scavenger of time among the rubble of this demolished shophouse?

THEY are of course, not as glam as your raiders of the lost ark. But they do take away, some treasures -- from sites of demolished shophouses. Well. not all the time, but  often enough to make their efforts worthwhile.

One of my friends, was such a "raider". He would comb through the rubble each time the iron ball had done its work. What were his finds? An old coin or two, an old movie poster (if fortunate), some broken Peranakan wall tiles... some old crockeries. Won't you take me with you the next time you go scavenging, I would plead with him.

That was in the 80s, I haven't received one invitation to go scavenging. And now, this friend has hung up his gloves. He lives happily with his wife, two cats, and the spoils of his labour -- one tattered and torn movie poster of a 60s movie siren (Li Li Hua, I think), a few "antique" coins dating back to the Colonial era, and some old tiles.

A scavenger of time... was he.