FUNNYACCENT

Salem Trip

 
I'm sure any Baby Boomers who watched black and white tv back in the late 60's remember the character on a broom.

 

In the Land of Dinosour

Except for the seagulls, the beach was deserted. The sky didn't look promising, but it's fall, the sun might comes out later, who knows?  The tide was low. I was glad I had my gloves on.

After fifteen minutes, I ran into a black labrador (I think it was labrador) wearing  an orange bandana around its neck matching its owner bandana on his bald head.

About 200 meters I passed The Bandanas, I spotted a yellow tiny figure nestled between pebbles and seaweed. I stopped and picked it up.

Imagine if this bad boy is still roaming around on earth, how am I suppose to run? One thing for sure I'll be running for my life not for my health.

I made it to Castle Island finished one loop. The second loop was basically dragging my ass up to the top of highest part of Castle Island, where it faces the ocean.

 

 

I stood with my back to the wall of Fort Independent, my eyes closed, I listened to this.

 

A sense of sadness and missing washed over me, and at the same time I felt so calm when I walked back to my place.

Don't Know Much

Thinking that I know what was working and what wasn't for a client was the first mistake I made when I first dipped my feet into social work. I had read about it, they talked about it at the workshops, and during the staff/clinical meetings, it's one of the topics that we have talked about it. But like many of us, we learned the lesson by experimenting it, or in a blunt way, when we make a mistake.

 
It is a humble way to learn that despite the education, degrees and the books that I read, I don't know anything about the person who is sitting opposite me until he trusts me to open up. Until he is willing to share his fear, his anger, his disppointment, his joy and his dream. Until then, I don't know a crap about him except things he thinks I want to hear.

The Last Nasi Impit & Ketupat Sitting-And the answer to Gurindam Jiwa

Earlier this afternoon I was at Zaimah & Yazid's place in Braintree, a few miles away from my hood' for Hari Raya gathering. I was looking forward to this gathering as I missed the previous two Hari Raya gathering.

The photos I uploaded here speak the volume of how wonderful, fun and lovely the event was.

 

Ramlah Dean, Noriah Williamson, Zul Mess, Jeha, Sitiaishah Salim, Zaimah (the hostess), Ginny WanZaid, Mariah & Sairah Glick.

 

 

 

 

 

Jeha was preaching about her famous Laksa Sarawak to Noriah W.

 

The ketupat pulut might not be perfect to be called Ketupat Palas, but they are ketupat nevertheless.

 

And now, Sairah's turn to give a crash course of her famous Teh Tarik to the ladies.

The rain didn't stop since morning. Pouring all day, but who cares when you had ketupat pulut, nasi impi, laksa Trengganu (Ginny WanZaid), laksa Sarawak (Jeha Niam), laksa asam (Yasmine Saulnier), masak lemak cilli api (Noriah W) and plenty more of delicous dishes. Sorry ladies, I can't remember all.

Ohh.....yes, Sairah brought some fresh keropok leko which she prepared a day before.

The best way ever duduk bersembang.

 

 

 

 

More of 10K Run

 Jane & I walking to the starting line

  
 

Pinning on my bib number.

Note: The messy newspaper all over the place. I didn't do it. Really.

Our friend Laurie wanted to make sure the red brick building on Beacon Street was on the background.

 

A small patch of wisehair, errr...I meant gray hair hidden next to a woman in black shirt.....that was me. And that was Jane in red t-shirt in action.

 

Runners in master class on the front line.

Red Running Shoes

I wrote here  a few times how much I enjoy running, and many times I whine about not enough time to run because of  bla, this, bla, bla that. Until today, I never entered  any races before. There are hundreds of races all year around in Massachusetts, but don't ask me why I hadn't entered in any of those.

Last May or perhaps June, my good friend, Jane convinced me to register to  10KTuft Health Plan for Women Race. It would be fun, she said. Why not. I registered on line. Mailed the check and forgot all about it. Last week when after Jane returned home from her trip to Iceland she called me and reminded me that we needed to pick up the bib number, official t-shirt and chrono track timing tag.

Yesterday we  metat Bombay Cafe' for lunch. The food was delicious. After the lunch we walked up to Nike Town on Newbury Street to drop our old running shoes. Actually I wanted to drop three pairs, but some women are attached to their beautiful shoes, handbags and clothes, whereas I am attached to my books and running shoes. So, two pairs will do for now.

After the Nike Town we walked to City Sports on Boylston Street to pick up the tag and the bib number.

Jane and I met at Park Street Subway station at 11:30 a.m. Lovely afternoon, breezy and plenty of sun shines. The race started exactly at 12:00 noon. The first mile Jane and I ran side by side. Into a second mile I picked up my pace. When I passed 5 mile mark, I knew I couldn't make it under one hour. I hadn't run seriously for a while, but as I was approaching the finish line, I saw the official time on top finish line banner: I hour 7 minutes. The digit blinked, blinked, blinked.......

It was a exhilarating feeling. I heard someone's voice in a crowd near the finish line said, "Red shoes, you're slowing down, come on, you can do it."  It didn't matter if it was meant for somebody else. My official time is 67.37 minutes or 10.87 minutes/mile pace. Yikes, but I'm so proud of myself.

In Love

 
I'm so in love with my new red satin slippers. I have a few slippers before but they never lasted more than a week. By the second week I found one side under the sofa and the side under the bed collecting dust. Sometimes I never found them again.  But this one, they still sit pretty, side by side at the end of my bed when I wake up in the morning. Long live my red satin slippers.

And for the past few days, when the wind howling outside, I slather my feet with lotion, snuggle my feet in mypretty red satin slipper, and dive under the comforter.

Hope

A few weeks ago three of my clients were successfully completed the program in the same week, two days apart. When I said successfully it doesn't mean they'll definitely stay clean and sober for the rest of their lives. They might relapse again as they did in the past. They might run into an old crowd they've desperately wanted to stay away from. And I know for sure they will face the ups and downs in life like the rest of us, either at work, home-personal life. There is no way they can avoid it. And when they do, I hope they know or at least they will not react in a destructive way.

I hope in a six months they were at the program, they had learned something new about themselves. Inner strength they possessed all along but they didn't know they have it. I hope they've learned that they have the ability to change their lives, not their probation officers, not their preachers, not their counselors or anybody else. One of them said, "I don't think I have another chance again," after I handed him a certificate. I hope they remember they always have a choice.