Organic-Ally

I don't usually get to read much of what is printed in the papers (when we do buy the papers), but there has been some interesting 'organic news' this last week or so. I was delighted to read one journalist's view on Why we should buy organic milk . Jane Wheatley says 'It makes me furious to see two litres selling for the “bargain” price of 65p in my local corner shop.' 'It’s not a bargain at all; it comes at a terrible cost to farmers and to the cows that are endlessly bred, pumped, primed and medicated for higher yields in an effort to reduce the gap between the price the farmer gets for his milk — around 18p a litre — and what it costs to produce it — about 21p. ' We have been very blessed in being able to have bottled organic milk delivered to us once a week. Sadly our fridge can only take so many standing bottles and we need to supplement these most weeks with store-bought organic milk. But we do buy it from the supermarket chain that this report hi

Yesterday was Speech Day at son's school. Son was joyous that he had won -- second year running -- the 'Attainment Prize' for his Form. Husband and I went in a bit later than most other parents although we were not late. The church where this took place was quite full. We were sitting second row from the back. The Headmaster came round and said, 'Like your hat,' to which I politely muttered 'Thanks'. I think he was just checking my presence as he called me up with a few other ladies to accept bouquets for the work we do for the school community. (I organize fund-raising projects.) It was an embarrassing walk right from the back of the church to the very front. I was thinking, 'Hmm, the last time I did this was at my wedding!' Later on, husband quizzed son, 'Why is it that you've got a prize, and mum has got a 'prize' but I haven't got a prize?' Son, without hesitation, 'Of course you've got a prize. You've got a pr

I was just entering the shopping precinct when I realised that a couple of guys ahead of me were fighting, with two appearing in support. People stopped to stare, but only one -- the guy in an ill-fitting suit who had earlier crossed a pedestrian crossing with me -- went forward, held out his hand and told them calmly and firmly to 'break it up'. He appeared to be so casual, so cool, as if he had broken up many fights before. I guess at six-foot-something he was not in awe of the two smaller men fighting. One was a dark-haired Chinese and the other a very blond younger man. It looked like things had quietened down as I walked on. I saw a couple of security guards for the shopping centre outside which this was taking place and told them. Obviously as the fight was 'outside' the building itself, it was not really their responsibility. Nevertheless they went to investigate. I walked on a bit, stopped, turned and had a look. The guys were at each other again. I decided that

Wednesday morning: Mum of son's mate stopped me to ask if son was OK with what she felt was a miserly show of a party bag. They had included a note to explain that instead of filling the bag with 'more toys', they had given the money saved to a boy they support in Africa through a charity. The amount given is enough to buy the boy a year of education. What a good idea, I thought. Was my son bothered? Did he complain that there were no expensive toys in his party bag? Or colour pencils? Finger puppets? Balloons? Whistle? Not at all. He was pleased that he had sweets that he normally does not get from us. (And he's going through them very, very slowly.) Compare that to the previous party where he was given a lot of goodies, including a tamagotchi (or whatever you call it). Unfortunately the tamagotchi does not work despite our putting two expensive LR44 batteries in it and you can imagine the frustration caused. Moral of the story: more expensive gifts do not necessarily

Hayfever bad over last weekend. It was so bad last Friday I used up all my hankies (could not turn them around quickly enough). Even borrowed some of my son's old hankies. When even these ran out, I had to resort to paper. Big mistake. Nose was already pink from constant pressure of nose-blowing. Within minutes of using paper, nose turned a bright red. It was painful and I had to take to bed. Sunday morning was still bad and I had to take to bed instead of going to church. Monday morning, met my ladies for prayer as usual and they prayed for some relief for me. Found myself saying, 'It's not that bad because I know it's not going to last forever.' Have been trying a new regime now for the week: (1) wipe nose with soft cloth hankie (organic cotton of course), (2) smear Vaseline all over nose area to prevent chafing and inside nostrils to trap pollen, and (3) slick on some Vicks Vapourub if necessary to clear the air channels. High pollen count in the last few days bu

Following from last post: my son has just received a birthday 'post-invitation'. We'd be invited, made our responses and now the map to get to the venue was given. On it we've been told, the birthday boy is 'equally happy' to receive £2 towards a collective present. So it's confirmed: we have started a trend. Yay! If you've done something like this, or plan to, do share your experience with us so we can compare notes. Thank you. Back to Organic-Ally .

It is a cliche. (Sorry I haven't learned how to put the accents in.) But we learned this lesson in a different way recently. It was my son's sixth birthday. He is allowed a party on alternate birthdays. My rationale is 'us Chinese don't celebrate birthdays'. We made it special for him last year by taking him and a mate to his favourite theme park. The year previous to that, I went to a lot of trouble to organize a party with an entertainer, healthy food (as if children care!), nice party bags, and even issued parking coupons to allow parents to park on our road. A friend was on 'traffic warden watch' as the permit does not kick in for 15 minutes after they arrived. Otherwise I would have had to give each parent an extra parking coupon at £1.50 each. I decided to be, uhm, miserly. Son disappeared into the kitchen as soon as the entertainer began and kept away for much of the party. He was quite overwhelmed. I toughed it out for two hours and then sent the gue

It's that time of year: watery eyes, runny noses, wheezy chests, etc. Some expert says the pollen count would peak at 6.02pm today. It's been a funny sort of day weather-wise. We've been out at an expensive 'theme park'. It was sunny, and it rained, it cleared and was sunny again, and it rained, then sunshine, and just a few minutes ago at home, we had hailstones. My hay fever has been tolerable so far this year. (In any case I think I usually have it bad later in June/July rather than May). I am not complaining. I have a couple of bad sniffles in the morning and later in the evening, and that's about it. It's pretty much what I had when I first moved from Singapore to Amsterdam years ago. I was well-known amongst my friends for having a constantly runny nose. I never left home without stacks of paper tissue. It was not uncommon for me to go through a whole box or two of tissue in a day. I even had a 'pattern' in the way I folded the tissue, blew my

I had long wanted to run my own business. Part of me thinks that if Richard Branson could get his Virgin empire started with Tubular Bells (the CD), then surely all I need to do is find that one product (or two) that is really worth selling. When I learned about the harmful impact of conventional cotton growing on the earth, I knew had to do something. Coupled with my personal desire to cut down on non-essential paper usage, it all added up that organic cotton hankies are the one good earth-friendly product that I had been searching for. (Other earth-friendly products like string bags were added along the way.) I am not a risk taker usually. So, silly me, you might say, but I actually went and bought goods unseen, bought website space when I knew nowt about designing websites, printed leaflets, bought advertising space, etc, to get the business going. I knew I had something 'worth' selling. Not only from the point of making a (small) profit, but in terms of making a difference

My right forearm has been hurting again, which explains the time away from 'non-essential' writing of every kind. Last Friday son and I went to the dentist. It was a belated routine visit as two months ago I was trying a treatment that could mean my not using glasses or contact lenses in the day and I didn't want to risk driving to the dentist with dodgey eyesight. When it was clear (pardon the pun) that the treatment was not working on my poor old eyes, I switched back. And the next available dentist appointment was ... last week. 'No wobbley teeth?' I asked casually. Of course I knew my son had no wobbley teeth. It was driving him nuts that he was not losing his milk teeth like all his mates. He can't wait to get his new teeth so that he could learn to play a wind instrument. With no sign of new teeth, he has gradually come round to accepting that it has to be the piano or violin and not the saxophone. Imagine my shock when the dentist then let on that son'

I've taken to sewing again as I've noted previously. One of my more difficult tasks recently was trying to buy thread and zips that match the colour of fabric. It caused me to remember what my mum used to do whenever an item of clothing got too worn out. She removed the buttons and zips so that they could be re-used elsewhere, or by someone else. It was the same with umbrellas. Most of us would be familiar with umbrellas turned inside out and the metal frame is bent backward beyond repair. Most people would simply throw these away. Mum carefully removed the cover bit from the metal frame, so that if/when she found a metal frame with a broken cover, she might marry the two again. My latest 'research' into recycling concerns paper. I've never understood what is meant by 'handmade paper' that I come across often in catalogues. I now realize that this is made from used paper or clothes, commonly found plants, etc that have been pulped and shaped into sheets and

Milestone today as son celebrated his sixth birthday. Six years have zoomed by just like that. Where has my baby gone? In six years' time, according to his 'little red book', he would be about my height. And then of course another six years after that when he's eighteen, he'd be .... God willing, he'd be doing something worthwhile with his life. Fathers don't take birthdays as mothers do, I think. I can still remember many of the little details surrounding son's arrival. Being an older first-time mother meant being asked numerous times whether we wanted to test for Down's. I felt under a lot of pressure to test. It was as if the NHS did not want another Down's baby to burden the system or that they wanted to make sure that we do not turn around and sue them for not discovering early enough that baby could have Down's. Signs of our time. Baby was so-oo overdue. Seventeen days to be precise. By Week 41 I was begging the midwife to have it induc

Not really, but when I received this email "Hi! I keep up with your blog and see you haven't written since 10th April when you were having trouble due to rsi, are you o.k?", I thought perhaps I should post something. It is nice to be missed. Thanks, Lyds. My arm is much better now. Maybe a spell away from the computer (as much as I could) did help. Thanks for the concern. It's the Easter break and like most parents I've got a little one to look after. Husband has also taken some time off -- which is nice -- and we try to spend family time together. Have we been "on holiday"? Strictly speaking, no. I find the British have a strange way of using the word "holiday". It always seems to mean going away from home for a short period. My idea of "holiday" is just not doing the normal chores or following the usual routine for a change. So not waking up every morning at 6am is a holiday for me. By the British reckoning our family has not been o

My right arm is hurting quite a bit, which is probably due to a recurrence of RSI from an excessive use of the computer. So this will be short. Last week I came across a 'Trading Standards' display at a local shopping centre. Of course I walked up to take a look. On pirated DVDs Me: What are you doing about the Chinese vendors selling such DVDs? Trading Standards Officer: We can't do very much. We take them to court and the judge normally hands down a tiny fine of £20 or £25. Me: But what can we do for them? It is clear that they are being controlled by a gangmaster. TSO: That's really a problem with the Immigration Department. We are dealing with the small fry. Me: So they only get those small fines. TSO: Sometimes they are jailed for a week or so. But they like being in prison as they are warm and well fed and they each have their own bed, which is more than what they usually get. Back to Organic-Ally .

I don't know how you felt when you read about the conviction and jailing of the Chinese gangmaster found responsible for the death of his fellow Chinese cockle-pickers at Morecambe Bay. I do not understand how an immigrant can exploit fellow immigrants the way that this callous young man did. My father also emigrated from south China to Singapore many years ago. Famine and poverty where he lived drove him to take that long arduous and dangerous journey to Singapore. I think his elder sister had already arrived in Singapore then. He was young and strong then and worked in all kinds of jobs so long as they paid for his sustenance and a little bit more which he remitted back to his family still left in China. This is the pattern of most economic migrants. There was, and is, no welfare system in place in Singapore and there were no handouts. But he did have a supportive network of 'family' from the same vicinity of his origin. There were what is known as tongxianghui (village

I don't normally get cross with mum-in-law. So I felt it especially bad that it came on Mothering Sunday and all. She was going home on the coach and I suggested she took a sandwich with her. 'O, no! I can't eat anything after yesterday's meal.' I kind of blew my top. 'If that works for all those starving people in Africa, wouldn't it be great?' For me, yesterday's food cannot feed today's body. Technically most of our food would have been broken down and either absorbed or discarded. If yesterday's food could feed us today, there'll be much less starvation and malnutrition. 'It's not possible! Technically it's not possible that you are still full from yesterday!' I found myself saying, quite rudely, I must admit. I find it very offensive that someone could say, 'O no! I can't eat anything else after yesterday's lunch' especially when one has had a light dinner and then a substantial breakfast in between. N

Found myself going to church one Sunday wearing clothes that were not exactly colour-coodinated. I remember a friend asking why the Chinese in immediate post-Mao China seemed to be wearing clothes that clash in colour. You know, like they mix an orange blouse with a red skirt. He was a medical student (and now trains doctors in deepest, most rural China) and posed the question: Are they all colour-blind? Of course not. They simply didn't have enough clothes to match them accordingly. I am in what some social anthropologists might call being in a liminal, in-between, state. I, too, do not have enough clothes to ensure that I am always colour-coordinated. (One of my ex-colleagues reading this will be gobsmacked. She might remember how I used to have a 'personal shopper' who picked out all my working clothes as I hated shopping even back then.) Yes, I do have clothes in the wardrobe, but they are mainly of conventional cotton, and some have polyester and viscose mixed in. My

Last Saturday, Husband and I had the rare opportunity to attend a concert at our local arts centre. It featured Cantabile, a male quartet, that does a lot of a capella singing. I first saw the group perform on TV and was thrilled that they were going to perform at the Singapore Festival of Arts more than a decade ago. I was then working for one of the 'Big Six' accounting firms as a change management consultant and could pretty much afford to attend any of the big-name foreign acts -- including the musical Evita and Placido Domingo -- being brought in by promoters aiming for the 'Yuppie' market. Cantabile left a distinct mark on my musical landscape as I had one of their cassette tapes when I packed my one suitcase and headed to Amsterdam to begin my life as a full-time Christian worker. From a habit of indiscriminate use of taxis in Singapore, I had to resort to cycling or taking the tram in Amsterdam. Instead of a fat wage package every month I made the transition t

I think I might get a lot of hate mail after this. But as I merely wish to discuss some vexing contradictions in life, I hope readers would just take this as an 'airing of thoughts' with no ill-will directed at any particular individual. This week a young woman who's suffered from cancer is refused permission to have her frozen embryos implanted because her ex-partner has refused permission. I just saw a programme about a child of a very disabled woman who is struggling to be a single mother and a professional artist. I recall another TV programme about another single mother who is profoundly deaf and blind who had a baby and needed a retinue of supporters to provide childcare. Isn't it strange that the very people (scientists) who believe in evolution -- survival of the fittest -- are prepared to give medical treatment to women to conceive babies when there isn't a chance that they could look after these children on their own, and especially without a father? What

Found the following report which supports what I've suspected all along and mentioned in a previous blog . It's factory farming that is to blame for the spread of bird flu. Worse is to come, it seems. Note the last sentence in this report. ************************* Taken from Straits Times Feb 28, 2006 'Poultry industry to blame' for bird flu Wild birds, backyard farms not at fault, says NGO report BANGKOK - A NEW report released yesterday blamed the transnational poultry industry, and not small-scale poultry farming and wild birds, as the root cause of the global bird flu crisis. The spread of industrial poultry production and trade networks has actually created ideal conditions for the emergence and transmission of lethal viruses such as the deadly H5N1 strain of bird flu, said Mr Devlin Kuyek of the Montreal-based international non-governmental organisation, Grain. Once inside densely populated factory farms, viruses can become lethal rapidly and amplify, Mr Kuyek s