farmer in the dell

that's one of the first songs i learnt, waaay back when i was a tiny tot in a yamaha music group class. the teacher would play a little tune on the piano, and we'd all have to hurry up to the front to gather. rather militaristic and regimented, really. but such is the life of discipline of a musician, and training begins young.

The farmer in the dell
The farmer in the dell
Hi-ho,The derry-o
The farmer in the dell

lyrics here. but before dell referred to a cheap, built-to-suit-your whims computer brand name, it meant a small, wooded valley. which is more romantic.

and i had, and still indeed, entertain fantasies of having my own farm. in my mind, it's always an orchard (with a herd of alpacas): groves of (fuji, please) apple trees, cherries, strawberries, pumpkins, apricots, and watermelons. as a kid i'd always loved being brought to u-picks, and the idea of picking your own fruit was associated with warm afternoons spent sorting them out, lazily eating them, and having all sorts of fruit-flavoured teas and desserts. an overabundance of warm fuzzy feelings, nothing at all like what the farmers are experiencing over here in drought-stricken australia. reality is a much sadder version of dreams.

lucky i found this bit of animation while browsing other crafty blogs. i suppose i've always wanted to learn to knit. a friend's mom kindly offered to teach me sometime back, and after trying painstakingly hard for all of 25 minutes, i gave up. it's sad because images of my grandmother, who brought me up and with whom i spent many daylight hours terrorising, play in my mind every so frequently. with the cooking done, and with me freshly scrubbed, i'd sit with my grandmother by the front door to knit. the waning daylight of the evening was always a good time. wish she could've knitted something that fit me now. all i have to show for those memories now are kiddy-sized ponchos which are kept at the back of my cupboard at home.

this reminded me a bit of my unfulfilled desire to knit. again.

maybe when i have an alpaca farm with rolling greens of flowering orchards.

a state of mind

it crept up slowly. the nagging feeling that i have been neglecting my blog. oh! i have a blog? yes. yes, i do. i have a blog, and it's been almost 3 months since the last update. forgive me, blog-trawlers, for i have sinned. i have forgone the fellowship for, umm, earthly pleasures. like writing my thesis! milking my brain to the limits in terms of academic writing, there's been scarcely anything left in me to blog. until sibehsian's comment nudged me into action. nudged? i mean jolted. but slowly. i've been lurking every now and then at others' domains and reading about other people, who actually have a life.



me? i think - i think... wait. has anybody ever died from writing a thesis? perhaps i will create history. the state of my apartment (dust bunnies everywhere), the state of my washing (clean but unfolded pile of clothes, thankfully), the state of my desk. i sent this photo over to my mom via skype some evenings back. what desk? she said. i am looking forward to having some semblance of this thing, 'a life' back. no luck of that happening before next week's presentation, i suspect. but if writing and presenting doesn't kill me, another bout of absent-mindedly brushing my teeth with facial wash will.


spring is here in aussie-land - it is good to finally see my own arms and legs again. it's been awhile. and i'm happy because it's sunny outdoors today, and i've got my durian-fix in the form of a durian swiss roll from the Taipei bakery over in box hill. i can't imagine how the angmohs will die from the stench of a durian shop if there was one at the corner of the intersection of say, little bourke and swanston streets. chinatown - home of durians, smelly-tofu and endless yumcha!

haven't had durians in coming to 2 years now... but it's all a state of mind.