16 September
Today, I spent half a morning baking my legendary cocoa cookies. What is special about these cookies is the ingredients used, which include not only wheat flour, but also tapioca flour, custard powder, and also corn flour. It made the texture really light. And these cookies is made even special by the special concotion that I used to glaze the cookie, i.e. whipped eggs, creamer, vanilla essence and thick cocoa powder.
The minute you popped this into your mouth it would melt. My.... it's really yummy. And I'm very sure, before we welcome Raya my kiddos would have finished half the cookies. And for that reason, I have decided to bake two portion, instead of just one.
Friday, April 19, 2024
Thursday, April 18, 2024
Birth Station, Platform 1
28 October 2009, Wednesday (Zulkaedah)
Dearest Abang, Adik, Ina, Ayie. Do you want to hear this story?
On 16 October 1959, after a long and difficult labour, a little girl emerged into the world and her mum and dad named her Wan Sallehah Wan Mahmood. I was told later by my late mum that of all the deliveries she had to endure, mine was the most arduous as my neck had been entangled with the umbilical chord and I was already turning blue when the midwife delivered me at Jalan Bidara, Kampung Ubi, Singapore.
It was really unfortunate and sad that I couldn't recall my life and infancy at Jalan Bidara at all. Despite looking at photos of me at Jalan Bidara, my mind simply refused to recall this period. However, I have vague memories of my childhood at Jalan Lada.
Anak Cina
My House at Jalan Lada
Sickly
Childhood Station, Platform 2
The first 10 years of my life was spent in Singapore at both Jalan Bidara (absolutely no recollection at all) as well as Jalan Lada (vivid recollection). And I enjoyed my childhood tremendously. I remembered playing all the kampung games, as opposed to the super hi tech games that my kids and other kids indulge in today. I remembered studying at Jalan Eunos School, which wasn't too far from my house, but my parents hired a trishaw to take me to school everyday.
The Kmpung Games
Jalan Eunos School
The Trishaw
My friends
Gula Tarik
Sanggul Mak Inang
Doll Jelly
Neighbour Electrocuted by Fan
Happy Memories
Painful Memories
Mugging Station, Platform 3
Slogging Station, Platform 4
Marital Station, Platform 5
Motherhood Station, Platform 6
Semi-Retirement Station, Platform 7
Retirement Station, Platform 7
Blogging Station, Platform 8
Dearest Abang, Adik, Ina, Ayie. Do you want to hear this story?
On 16 October 1959, after a long and difficult labour, a little girl emerged into the world and her mum and dad named her Wan Sallehah Wan Mahmood. I was told later by my late mum that of all the deliveries she had to endure, mine was the most arduous as my neck had been entangled with the umbilical chord and I was already turning blue when the midwife delivered me at Jalan Bidara, Kampung Ubi, Singapore.
It was really unfortunate and sad that I couldn't recall my life and infancy at Jalan Bidara at all. Despite looking at photos of me at Jalan Bidara, my mind simply refused to recall this period. However, I have vague memories of my childhood at Jalan Lada.
Anak Cina
My House at Jalan Lada
Sickly
Childhood Station, Platform 2
The first 10 years of my life was spent in Singapore at both Jalan Bidara (absolutely no recollection at all) as well as Jalan Lada (vivid recollection). And I enjoyed my childhood tremendously. I remembered playing all the kampung games, as opposed to the super hi tech games that my kids and other kids indulge in today. I remembered studying at Jalan Eunos School, which wasn't too far from my house, but my parents hired a trishaw to take me to school everyday.
The Kmpung Games
Jalan Eunos School
The Trishaw
My friends
Gula Tarik
Sanggul Mak Inang
Doll Jelly
Neighbour Electrocuted by Fan
Happy Memories
Painful Memories
Mugging Station, Platform 3
Slogging Station, Platform 4
Marital Station, Platform 5
Motherhood Station, Platform 6
Semi-Retirement Station, Platform 7
Retirement Station, Platform 7
Blogging Station, Platform 8
When time stood still
Last night we had a real scare.And I mean a real scare, a moment when time stood still, and we were gasping for breath and our heart eventually stopped beating. It had been real ages when we were last jolted from our sleep with the ringing of the phone in the stillness of the night. And those days, when the phone rang in the middle of the night or in the wee hours of the morning, it only meant one thing. Either our closed ones were in some kind of trouble, accidents had befallen them, or worse still, a death had happened.
So, early this morning, at precisely 12.05 a,m., after both my husband and I had dozed off, I heard the persistent ringing of his phone. My heart missed several beats, and although I couldn't hear exactly what had transpired between him and the caller, I could sense that something awful had happened judging from his body language. The minute he ended the call, his body bent over, and with hands covering his face, he sobbed uncontrollably. I was really shaken and I kept asking him to tell me what had happened.
Somehow I had this instinct that something had happened to my sister-in-law, who underwent operation recently. Despite recovering well, her condition seems erratic.
And my instinct was proven right. My sister-in-law, who is my husband's only sister, and one whom he'd give his limb to had been rushed to a hospital in Bangi around 10.30 p.m, as she was having fainting spells and high bp reading despite not having any problem with her blood pressure prior to the operation.
After a brief examination, the hospital had advised her family to take her to Putrajaya hospital where all her records are kept, so she was rushed to Putarajaya in an ambulance.
Apparently the doctor who had examined her had told my brother-in-law that she could be haemorrhaging in the brain or had probably suffered a stroke.
Imagine hearing this kind of news happening to your loved one. I bravely comforted my husband who kept crying softly. I calmly woke my second son up and told him what had happened. I was hiding my fear for the sake of my husband but deep inside, my heart was screaming and my chest felt as though it was exploding. This couldn't have happened to her. We were just chatting away on Watsapp earlier in the afternoon, and all indications pointed to a good but slow recovery. In fact, I was excited with her recovery progress because that would mean that she could join us for the "merisik" trip we were scheduled to go next weekend.
Both my husband and I dressed quietly. Just as were about to leave for the hospital, we heard the door bell ringing. My eldest son, who had married recently, had arrived from Seremban with his wife and daughter. When my son approached my husband to salam him, again he broke into a wrecking, soul and heart-breaking sobs. I could see the distraught look on his face.I was devastated.
We drove in silence until we reached the emergency ward of the hospital. I can imagine what had gone through my husband's mind, the fear and torment he was suffering. With the passing away of my parents-in-law, my father-in-law in 2010, and my mother-in-law in 2008, my sister-in-law is the only close kin he has, someone whom he loves dearly and would give his life to.
Once we reached the emergency ward of the hospital we were greeted by her sons who related to us what had happened. We waited at the waiting lounge and offered a silent prayer. About 15 minutes after we arrived, I saw a door opening and was hugely relieved to see my sister-in-law being wheeled out of the treatment room by her husband. My husband rushed to hug her and kept kissing her face and forehead. I can imagine how relieved and happy he was.
My brother-in-law later explained that after the doctor had examined her, they did not concur with what the former hospital had diagnosed as her symptoms were not consistent with the earlier diagnosis. And they had advised her to rest at home.
We then saw them to their car, and once again, my husband enveloped her in a tight embrace kissing her face and forehead repeatedly. It was as though he did not want to let her go. It was as though he couldn't believe that she was alright. We left after seeing them off.
In the car, my husband had softly and quietly told our sons and daughter in law, "Ngah is the only person I have in the world. There is no one else." I felt sharp tears springing to my eyes. But I held myself together and rubbed his shoulder and face softly. Ya Allah! The love of a sibling knows no bound!
I wish my sister-in-law speedy recovery and hope she'll recover fully.
Tini, we still need you for many more happy occasions we're celebrating this year and years to come. I love you my dear, and you know that you will always have a special place in our hearts. May Allah speed up your recovery and may Allah bless you.
So, early this morning, at precisely 12.05 a,m., after both my husband and I had dozed off, I heard the persistent ringing of his phone. My heart missed several beats, and although I couldn't hear exactly what had transpired between him and the caller, I could sense that something awful had happened judging from his body language. The minute he ended the call, his body bent over, and with hands covering his face, he sobbed uncontrollably. I was really shaken and I kept asking him to tell me what had happened.
Somehow I had this instinct that something had happened to my sister-in-law, who underwent operation recently. Despite recovering well, her condition seems erratic.
And my instinct was proven right. My sister-in-law, who is my husband's only sister, and one whom he'd give his limb to had been rushed to a hospital in Bangi around 10.30 p.m, as she was having fainting spells and high bp reading despite not having any problem with her blood pressure prior to the operation.
After a brief examination, the hospital had advised her family to take her to Putrajaya hospital where all her records are kept, so she was rushed to Putarajaya in an ambulance.
Apparently the doctor who had examined her had told my brother-in-law that she could be haemorrhaging in the brain or had probably suffered a stroke.
Imagine hearing this kind of news happening to your loved one. I bravely comforted my husband who kept crying softly. I calmly woke my second son up and told him what had happened. I was hiding my fear for the sake of my husband but deep inside, my heart was screaming and my chest felt as though it was exploding. This couldn't have happened to her. We were just chatting away on Watsapp earlier in the afternoon, and all indications pointed to a good but slow recovery. In fact, I was excited with her recovery progress because that would mean that she could join us for the "merisik" trip we were scheduled to go next weekend.
Both my husband and I dressed quietly. Just as were about to leave for the hospital, we heard the door bell ringing. My eldest son, who had married recently, had arrived from Seremban with his wife and daughter. When my son approached my husband to salam him, again he broke into a wrecking, soul and heart-breaking sobs. I could see the distraught look on his face.I was devastated.
We drove in silence until we reached the emergency ward of the hospital. I can imagine what had gone through my husband's mind, the fear and torment he was suffering. With the passing away of my parents-in-law, my father-in-law in 2010, and my mother-in-law in 2008, my sister-in-law is the only close kin he has, someone whom he loves dearly and would give his life to.
Once we reached the emergency ward of the hospital we were greeted by her sons who related to us what had happened. We waited at the waiting lounge and offered a silent prayer. About 15 minutes after we arrived, I saw a door opening and was hugely relieved to see my sister-in-law being wheeled out of the treatment room by her husband. My husband rushed to hug her and kept kissing her face and forehead. I can imagine how relieved and happy he was.
My brother-in-law later explained that after the doctor had examined her, they did not concur with what the former hospital had diagnosed as her symptoms were not consistent with the earlier diagnosis. And they had advised her to rest at home.
We then saw them to their car, and once again, my husband enveloped her in a tight embrace kissing her face and forehead repeatedly. It was as though he did not want to let her go. It was as though he couldn't believe that she was alright. We left after seeing them off.
In the car, my husband had softly and quietly told our sons and daughter in law, "Ngah is the only person I have in the world. There is no one else." I felt sharp tears springing to my eyes. But I held myself together and rubbed his shoulder and face softly. Ya Allah! The love of a sibling knows no bound!
I wish my sister-in-law speedy recovery and hope she'll recover fully.
Tini, we still need you for many more happy occasions we're celebrating this year and years to come. I love you my dear, and you know that you will always have a special place in our hearts. May Allah speed up your recovery and may Allah bless you.
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