Organic-Ally

  Growing up in Singapore, I never went to bed without my laam jaam . It's a long cylindrical pillow which translates from Cantonese as "hug pillow" (or "hugging pillow"). My mum had a more sophisticated term for it. She called it a "Dutch husband", her take -- as a woman -- of what was known in colonial Singapore as a "Dutch wife" (feel free to google this term). I don't remember how or when I outgrew it. When heavily pregnant I requested my dear sisters who were visiting to bring me one, and they did. Recently I had been waking up every morning with pains down my thighs. They always seem to be on what appears to be "acupressure" points. Poke your finger or thumb at the correct spot and the point goes right through you. So began a daily ritual of finding/discovering where those points are on waking, and massaging with my fist until the pain eased, before getting out of bed. While hunting for some missing bedding last week, my s

  I was just wondering whether to have a rant about this and came across (yes, it is a Mailonline article)  I booked a seat in a train's quiet carriage to work and was disturbed by a mother who let her two-year-old run around screaming - was I wrong to ask them to keep it down? On long journeys I always book on a quiet coach with the aim to either relax and have a snooze, or do some serious thinking/reading work. Why on earth would people with young children book on the Quiet coach, you might well ask.  On the last occasion, I first found someone sitting in my Reserved seat. My son tells me this happens to him very often on GWR. This man, doing a crossword, was sitting in my window seat. A young woman was sitting in HIS Reserved aisle seat. When I got on the train the young woman looked apologetic and asked if she was sitting in my seat. Well, yes, and no. She moved, but the older crossword gentleman was living up to his hobby, "Do you want me to move?", he asked gruffly.