The 2nd picture is of white hibiscus--and it's brilliantly white.
The colour of the impatiens in my sister-in-law's garden was too inviting to pass up:)
23 February 2008
22 February 2008
These are some random pictures around our hill.
This is the bamboo in bloom. You may have heard that the bamboo flowers rarely, once in 12 to 36 years. Well this is 36 years, because I don't remember it flowering before and I've been married that long. It was planted by my mother-in-law. Apparently the bamboo will die after that and then regrow from the same spot. Waiting to see what happens.
This shows the tender young leaves of a mango tree. We've had the requisite 2 or 3 showers. So the mango trees are all putting out new leaves and flowers. These red leaves turn green in about a week.
This is of course a tapped rubber tree. Since I took this pic with my phone and through my window, it's not too clear. If you look carefully, you can see the black plastic container kept to collect the rubber.
This is the bamboo in bloom. You may have heard that the bamboo flowers rarely, once in 12 to 36 years. Well this is 36 years, because I don't remember it flowering before and I've been married that long. It was planted by my mother-in-law. Apparently the bamboo will die after that and then regrow from the same spot. Waiting to see what happens.
This shows the tender young leaves of a mango tree. We've had the requisite 2 or 3 showers. So the mango trees are all putting out new leaves and flowers. These red leaves turn green in about a week.
This is of course a tapped rubber tree. Since I took this pic with my phone and through my window, it's not too clear. If you look carefully, you can see the black plastic container kept to collect the rubber.
20 February 2008
Thank You!
Thank you so much all my blog friends. Just the fact of ventilating, combined with all your support has really made me feel so much better. It's hot and muggy and tiring here, but I'm certainly not dispirited. Thank you all once again from the bottom of my heart.
19 February 2008
My last post about feeling dead inside got me a letter from blog friend Sarah. In her letter she says its ok to feel unhappy too (which then made me cry some more). But it also made me think. For me personally, I have always found it rather hard to acknowledge and accept negative feelings--like anger and sadness--as ok.
Way back when my children were growing up, when my elder son started having physical problems and doctor's visits were the norm for so many holidays for us, I learned to damp down sad thoughts, worries, etc because I felt I had to be strong for him. I didn't want my children to see me have a meltdown--the one on whom they relied to keep their world stable. For me helping my son to become an independent, well-rounded personality, in spite of his disability, was very important and somehow being swamped with sadness always made it difficult for me to treat him like any other child. Besides, I feel children are uncanny in being able to pick up feelings from their parents. So I learned to keep out the emotions and only stay in the reality of the moment. As a good friend used to say, "You swallow everything, go to the toilet and pull the flush"[:)]
Along with my son's problems, we had to deal with the illness and subsequent passing of first a younger sister-in-law, then my father-in-law and then my mother-in-law, all due to different forms of malignancies. In all this I felt I had to be the strong one (and I guess to some extent I am accepted as the strong one in our large extended family), which required rigid control of my emotions. Now, after having been the strong one in ever so long, I find it difficult to lean on anyone, to allow myself to be vulnerable to the people around me. I can only let it out in the written word. So all my blog friends, please bear with me when I angst, because you are the friends with whom I feel I don't have to be the strong one.
Way back when my children were growing up, when my elder son started having physical problems and doctor's visits were the norm for so many holidays for us, I learned to damp down sad thoughts, worries, etc because I felt I had to be strong for him. I didn't want my children to see me have a meltdown--the one on whom they relied to keep their world stable. For me helping my son to become an independent, well-rounded personality, in spite of his disability, was very important and somehow being swamped with sadness always made it difficult for me to treat him like any other child. Besides, I feel children are uncanny in being able to pick up feelings from their parents. So I learned to keep out the emotions and only stay in the reality of the moment. As a good friend used to say, "You swallow everything, go to the toilet and pull the flush"[:)]
Along with my son's problems, we had to deal with the illness and subsequent passing of first a younger sister-in-law, then my father-in-law and then my mother-in-law, all due to different forms of malignancies. In all this I felt I had to be the strong one (and I guess to some extent I am accepted as the strong one in our large extended family), which required rigid control of my emotions. Now, after having been the strong one in ever so long, I find it difficult to lean on anyone, to allow myself to be vulnerable to the people around me. I can only let it out in the written word. So all my blog friends, please bear with me when I angst, because you are the friends with whom I feel I don't have to be the strong one.
18 February 2008
I feel tired and dispirited. I know that I have so many things to be thankful for. But somehow I can't drive away the feelings. I realise I am just drifting along, doing nothing really worthwhile, and nothing that makes me feel like the day is an adventure. I flog myself to keep going, to stay in the moment so that I can carry on doing what I must do. The lack of feeling inside sweeps through me now and then, though I try hard to keep it at bay. So often I wonder why I'm alive. Then the analytical, intellectual part of me takes over--the one who learnt all the counselling and has read so much about all that--and tells myself about the worthwhile things I'm doing. But it still doesn't cut into the heart of me. Of course I must be thankful that the deadness inside of me is no longer as bad as it used to be some years back. But when the feeling sweeps through once in a while, it just makes me want to be not alive any more.
Nobody really writes about things like this on their blog. I also realise that my blog is boring because I feel dead inside and so cannot bring any passion into my writing. Maybe I shouldn't blog again till I can feel some passion.
Nobody really writes about things like this on their blog. I also realise that my blog is boring because I feel dead inside and so cannot bring any passion into my writing. Maybe I shouldn't blog again till I can feel some passion.
17 February 2008
13 February 2008
It's been one year since my mother passed away. People make comments about how fast one year has gone. As I type this post, the memory of last year comes back. I know that she had a full life and was really waiting to go. So I try not to miss her. This last week or so I once woke with a start because I thought she called me. We will be having a memorial service for her on Saturday morning.
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