sauce wisdom

When I was younger, my dad and his siblings ran a restaurant. It wasn’t anything fancy — a step above fast food but not fine dining. When it was busy on week-ends, my sister and I would help out with serving tables, packing delivery orders, and basic kitchen tasks.

The other day, while I was eating lunch at work, a random memory emerged for contemplation. It’s one of those things that seem insignificant, but has nonetheless been locked in my memory for some unknown reason.

This memory was just one particular moment — an instruction I had received. I think it was one of my uncles who said this, but it could have been my auntie. But the source of this wisdom is not exactly as important as the wisdom itself. (I’m sure they all shared the same wisdom anyway.)

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chipper

I don’t think I’m a particularly clumsy person, but I suppose we all have our moments. The other week, I dropped something onto my favourite tea mug, and chipped off a bit of ceramic from the lip. The damage isn’t that terrible — the mug is very much still useable — but the missing piece is quite obvious. Continue reading

thought fragments

This year has disappeared in a whirlwind of long days and late nights.

It has been a year of plaintive farewells, and cheerful greetings.

I have done so much, and not enough, and there’s still so much to do.

But it’s a humid Summer’s day, and all I want to do is lie on my bed with the aircon on.

Or maybe go out and have a few drinks with friends.

Or listen to classical music while reading a good book.

I want to share the music of Rachmaninoff, but I can’t decide which piece I like most.

Not long ago, ABC Classic played part of his Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, and I stopped whatever I was doing, and listened until the end.

Earlier this year, I learnt that Rachmaninoff struggled with depression throughout his career. He received harsh criticisms about some of his compositions, which made him question his worth as a composer.

But he sought help, he did better, and now he’s remembered and celebrated as one of Russia’s greatest composers.

I wonder if next year will be “quiet”.

The years seem to alternate between tranquil and turbulent, and there aren’t many ways in which this year could have been more turbulent (although there are still about two and half weeks left, so I wouldn’t be surprised if something happened…)

Or maybe the years don’t alternate, and I just made that up.

Thick, grey clouds have gathered, and there’s a cool breeze blowing now.

Maybe it will storm later.

as I ran

Last night I went for a run. As I started running, I calculated how many hours I’d worked this past week: full days from Monday through to Saturday, a bit extra here, a bit less there – all up about 54 hours. I redid the maths a couple of times in case I missed a half-hour somewhere. No, 54 is right.

Strange, I thought, that after 54 hours of work, all I wanted to do was go for a run.  Continue reading

a simple sound

One morning, some weeks ago, when I was on my way to the bus station to go to work, I noticed a sound as I walked past a house on my regular route.

There was nothing very special about this morning – it was just like any other – and most people would say there’s nothing special or peculiar about the sound I heard, but, even in my half-awake state, rushing to work, this simple sound struck me as something profoundly meaningful.  Continue reading

fame vs fortune

The other day, I randomly recalled this surprisingly meaningful conversation that I had with my sister when we were kids. I don’t remember how old I was, but it was definitely while we were both still in primary school (she’s only a year older than I am), and I’m almost willing to bet that I was less than 10 at the time. Basically, we were just kids.

To be honest, I don’t remember a whole lot about the conversation or how it came about (maybe we were at home listening to music?) but the general bones of the chat are still there in my mind. It all revolved around this one question: Would you rather be rich or famous?

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