FUNNYACCENT

Comfort Place

I love this ad. strategically located on Boylston Street at Copley Square. The background building on the left is part of Boston Public Library from outside of the building. Look at the photos of the link. Now you know why I like to hang out at the library. Thank you Jessica for sharing the photos.

Something In the Air

I did some autumn cleaning last night after I got home from campus. I didn't realize the amount of cables, cords, and wires I've been collecting all these years: power cables, monitor cords, monitor power adapter cords, pc cables, audio cables, extension cords, universal power cords, splitters, fiber optic cables, duplex multimode fiber cords, duplex single mode fiber, converters not to mention keyboard, mouse cables, internal cables, hard disks and motherboards that I saved from my old, old computers. My goodness, I was horrified.

 I am a hoarder.

I was traumatized by just looking at the pile of junks I've been hoarding all these years.

Seriously, I'm still traumatized as I am writing this entry (shuddering).

Anyho, I put them all in a double layers industrial strength garbage bag and this morning I hauled the bag down to a dumpster for trash pick up this morning.

First I didn't feel it, but after I dumped the trash bags into a dumpster, I heard the hening-silence. It was an eerie feeling not in a frightening way, but similar to  bring comfort to my being. I felt the calmness of the morning, when the sun was still in fetal position under a warm old quilt. It was about 5 a.m. I didn't hear anything except the morning breeze glided between the oak tree leaves and whispered sweet love to the branches. 

 I dumped the trash bag into a dumpster and walked back to the front door. Then my nose caught a morning scent. I straightened my spine, as a string gently pulled up from the top of my head. I inhaled a perfumed morning air.

Hari Raya

Selamat Hari Raya to all. Maaf Zahir Batin.

Salam Hari Raya

Irresistible Garcia

I had no plan to buy any produce but when  I left the library I turned around and walked back to St. James Street, to the Farmers Market .

Just looking at the odd shapes of multicolor sweet peppers, string beans, onions, eggplants and fresh from the farm green vegetables bring out the joy that I couldn't get when I shop at the supermarket.

Buying produce out in the open market is something that we take for granted when the market is there every single day, rain or shine.

I didn't plan to buy any produce, but when I saw the bright orange with green stripes terong-eggplants, I couldn't resist it. The gentleman at the vendor told me it's called Garcia eggplant.

He even volunteer to pose with Garcia hanging on his right ear when I asked his permission to use my camera. And he even went to Boomer Festival.

Sharing

Lens Day-Artistic 

Dumb Ass

I like pureed summer squash so much I have it two or three times a week. The other day I bought a couple organic summer squash from the Farmer's Market at Copley Square. When I got home I skinned one of them, scooped out the seeds, quartered, and boiled them with minimum water until the squashed turned mushy. I drained the water, using the wooden spoon I flattened the hard-headed bits.

I sprinkled nutmeg powder, tossed a few cardamom seeds, a little of salt and a pinch of sweet potato starch. I stirred the mixture on a very low heat. I turned off the heat and left it overnight on the stove.

This morning,  I transferred the squash into a plastic container. I found the lid but the lid didn't seem to fit the container even they were bought as a couple. Then I realized the bottom part was very, very slightly out of shape because I used it to steam another dish in a rice cooker.

Being a determined person I am, I refused to let some slightly-out of shape- three for $1.00 -container to distract my mission.

In my kitchen at 5:00 am, the  sound of gurgling coffee brewing in the background, I wrestled my stupidity with a plastic container full to the rim with pureed  cardamom and nutmeg scented summer squash in my left hand, and the lid in my right hand.

Within a minute, the container flew out of my hand and landed on the kitchen floor. The container hit the corner of the kitchen sink and the golden pureed squash splat on the side of the sink. Now it looked more like a baby poop.

If somebody else did it, I won't hesitate to say, "What a dumb ass thing to do."

Who is the dumb ass now?

I don't  know the name of these plants, but I like the lavender and yellow flowers. They grow on the front yard of the church on Boylston Street.

The flowers remind me of the plants that produced a similar flowers on the front yard of grandmother's house in Penang  47 years ago.

I'm not sure who was the original artist of this song, but I fell in love with it when I heard it on the radio sung by Sudirman. I love the calm effect the keroncong music has on me every time I listen to it.