How is the vacation, they ask

"So how goes the vacation?" asked an acquaintance just recently.

......and I wondered where to start.

Do I tell him that I get to sleep 8 or more hours a day finally? Do I tell him that I wake up smiling and laugh way more than I used to before? Do I tell him that I find myself dancing in the shower again? Do I tell him that I walk with a spring in my step and practically waltz my way around the house? Do I tell him that I now read what I used to read in 2 months in just 2 days? Do I tell him of my travel plans, the likely adventures, the memories I finally have time to make? Do I tell him that I break into impromptu dance routines in the middle of the living room/kitchen/garden, etc when I think nobody's watching? Do I tell him that my skin has drastically cleared up and I'm practically glowing that people wonder if I am actually, pregnant? Do I tell him that I now have more time for people and animals who matter to me? Do I tell him that when words do come, I give them the respect they deserve and am ready for them with pen and paper? Of course not.

So I just said "Good. Vacation's going good."

And that's the truth. Lady Grouch is happy.

Time is spent devouring books and happily drifting away into my own little world. Started at the bottom of my to-read book pile (it was reaching skywards and was threatening to topple over) and I have finished a significant amount by now. Just a few more to go. Doesn't hurt that September and the Book Fair isn't too far away to replenish either.

Other times, I cook. Mother Dearest being out of the country these days, almost all the cooking in the household is done with my own two hands. I enjoy quality time in the kitchen. Music playing in the background, knife in hand chopping up chicken liver, smashing garlic and ginger together, brandishing bunches of curry leaves and cilantro at unsuspecting pots and pans, beating unruly pie crusts into submission with a rolling pin, I am in my element. Everyday paves way to a new creation. Which Father Dearest gobbles up happily of course.

That is not to say that I don't work. The lady has her expenses you know. With my laptop on the balcony or on my comfy seat surrounded by my mother's exotic tropical garden (she calls it that, I call it a jungle) and Franky boy by my side, I am one happy working woman. Anyways, the point is life is good.

Flying off in a matter of days, a well needed change of place and faces, away from certain aspects linked to certain negative experiences, a negative way of life in the past. Only thing, planes keep on crashing! Wondering if that's God's way of saying stay put. Oh well, you only die once anyway. But happiness? You grab it while you still can.

Balmy Saturday, pleasantly warm, a slight breeze playing with the tissue-like petals of bougainvilleas outside. A pleasing sound. If serenity had a sound, this would be it. The night is young still, yet I retire to a quiet cosy corner with a paperback stranger that is yet to become a friend. My companion for the night will be Alice Munro's 'Dear Life'. A slim book, yet looks promising. 

The Last Fruit Salad

I had my last fruit salad today.

Not that I'm never going to have fruit salads again. Just that I will not have a fruit salad quite like this fruit salad again.

It all started like this. When things get unbearable at work, I'd go downstairs and get a fruit salad. I'd sit there and eat it, amidst the sea of noises in absolute privacy. This was my time of the day, my moment with myself and my thoughts, alone, thanking the Gods of Fruit Salad for the creation of something oh-so divine. I've grown so fond of these moments overtime. They were an absolute necessity.

Last day of work. As relieved and light-headed I may feel, I thought I'l feel at least a certain degree of sadness. But I don't. So many people that I've grown fond of overtime have left and there's practically nobody to feel sad about leaving behind. Or maybe I've struck off the nerve of sensitivity somewhere along the line.

And then I thought about what I would miss. I would miss the long ride to work in the morning in that half-asleep state of mind, listening to my favorite tunes on the iPod and daydreaming all the way to work. It helped wake me up and helped me ease into the chaotic calamity that awaits at the other end of the journey. I often find myself not willing the journey to end.

And then there's the remainder of the people that I'm leaving behind. So many have left and so little to leave behind. If there is anything that I would cherish for the rest of my life, that would be the people that I've earned. But I also know that I would always keep in touch with the people that actually matter to me, even if it is from a certain distance at times.

I would most certainly miss the crazy times spent with them, the sense of unity among turmoil. The many storms we braved together, the many hurdles leaped over. I would miss the laughter. I would even miss the drama and the groans, the aiyoo's and the sighs of frustration.

And then I would miss the fruit salad.

It's a good fruit salad.