My son and I attended a small church in north east Borneo. Interestingly this church produced 43 pastors and missionaries over the past 40 years or so.
They are very fortunate to own two pieces of land, on one stands a church with two sanctuaries which functions as a vibrant kindergarten on weekdays; the other is a bigger tract of land with a preaching point. Two years ago they made some plans to build but found the estimate too high. This year they talked about building something more modest on the second site with bigger land.
Listening to that brought to mind what I heard maybe eight or nine years ago. A speaker during my church camp shared about his church's adventure in building. This actually happened to his church north of Ipoh. I may be vague in dates and figures but the essence is there. After forming the building committee, the entire church was mobilised into fund raising. A year later, the committee had $13,000 in hand. It is not a miserly figure, lots of work went into it. They baked lots of cakes to sell to church members, friends, relatives, neighbours, contacts ... The youth cleaned and waxed hundreds of cars. The building committee prayed, they felt it was impossible to reach the 6-digit goal. Everyone was tired and much discouraged.
People who prayed seriously often heard unexpected replies, there many of them heard clearly God telling them to donate the money away. They took it literally and fasted, listening to details on whom to give and how much to give. Once they came to a unanimous consensus, they wrote the cheques and mailed them. The building committee ceased meeting. Strangely enough, once the dream was allowed to die, money came from every direction. Always just enough and timely to pay for the next stage of the building project. When the four-storey building was dedicated, it was all paid for. That church does not owe anyone one cent. The strange thing is: no letters nor appeals were made for funds. It is a clear cut case that God builds His church His way if we listen to Him and let Him.
Tuesday, May 28, 2019
(1098) Where Rainbows end by Cecelia Ahern
My youngest borrowed this book from a mobile library near her place of work. I was surprised to learn that this book came before "If You Could See Me Now"
I have cried reading her "PS, I Love You". I have laughed reading the one where missing socks end up in, can't quite recall the title. The author is very good at tugging at the readers' heart strings. "Where Rainbows End" does not sound like fiction, somehow.
Isn't it life that those who suit each other to a "t" would be parted by circumstances? Somehow, some would do all the right things and end up living their dreams, yet another might just by one bad decision end up paying and paying for that one slip for life?
I have a neighbour who lives for eight years on my right. Vaguely I know her as a single mother tenant who moved in after she sold a house jointly owned by her and her husband. Years later she told me that as a virtual stranger, I shared with her that she had a choice to forgive her husband for gambling and losing everything they had worked for. It might sound unfair, but if she does not choose forgiveness, she would be bitter and poisoned for life. Over the years she chose to forgive and let go. She raised her two children on meagre pay with some help from her parents. It was a great deal of sacrifice but I am happy to say that her two children grew up well taught and are working now. She is a cheerful, vibrant and productive member on the upward path, a good neighbour and a loyal friend. I was a little taken aback when I heard about what I said years ago. Over the years, I have learnt to listen more and talk less. I am glad that I took the risk then to say what concerns I had in my heart, and it turned out to be a timely word which did her good.
I have cried reading her "PS, I Love You". I have laughed reading the one where missing socks end up in, can't quite recall the title. The author is very good at tugging at the readers' heart strings. "Where Rainbows End" does not sound like fiction, somehow.
Isn't it life that those who suit each other to a "t" would be parted by circumstances? Somehow, some would do all the right things and end up living their dreams, yet another might just by one bad decision end up paying and paying for that one slip for life?
I have a neighbour who lives for eight years on my right. Vaguely I know her as a single mother tenant who moved in after she sold a house jointly owned by her and her husband. Years later she told me that as a virtual stranger, I shared with her that she had a choice to forgive her husband for gambling and losing everything they had worked for. It might sound unfair, but if she does not choose forgiveness, she would be bitter and poisoned for life. Over the years she chose to forgive and let go. She raised her two children on meagre pay with some help from her parents. It was a great deal of sacrifice but I am happy to say that her two children grew up well taught and are working now. She is a cheerful, vibrant and productive member on the upward path, a good neighbour and a loyal friend. I was a little taken aback when I heard about what I said years ago. Over the years, I have learnt to listen more and talk less. I am glad that I took the risk then to say what concerns I had in my heart, and it turned out to be a timely word which did her good.
(1097) Economy after imposing consumption tax
Since the former Government implemented the consumption tax, the Malaysian economy has been affected adversely. Around that time, I was still residing in Sabah. I heard of wage earners unable to meet their repayment of the not fully paid cars. There were car owners who drove their newer cars back to the place they purchased their cars from and give up repaying. Then my son and I saw smaller mom and pop shops closing, it was not the fact that they have insufficient business. But more like they balked at the fact that they could not afford the computer, printer and the monthly accounting service they need to keep the tax authorities at bay. Then we saw a spate of fires around the time the new tax figures were due. After that mid-range restaurants closed shop. While the very poor who do not cook still eat at the market stalls, the middle class eat out less to keep their finances solvent. Of course, the rich still fly to Hong Kong and Singapore often to eat or load up on luxury goods.
I have been back in Peninsular Malaysia for slightly more than two years. Two years ago, I see my favourite mix rice stall having two distinct intervals for business: 10:00 - 12:30 pm and 4:00 - 6:30 pm. Now, starting at 9:45 am one could eat mix rice if you are a meat eater and do not miss having vegetables. The cook probably left to take a nap between 1:30 - 3:30 pm. Lately I was able find food at odd time like 3:00 pm when I took the LRT (train) back from my hospital check-up. Without asking the seller, I realize that he was maximizing business to make up for any lack. Gone were the days of niche market of selling food to the moms of school going children. By lengthening business hours in the middle of the day, he benefits by closing earlier at 5:15 pm.
This year, I have been to the Ramadan market only three times. Honestly I can't see how each stall could earn enough to pay for the M$8,000 license. The Muslim calendar month is lunar, it is at most 28 days. Even if the new moon is not sighted on the crucial night, that makes fasting lasts 29 days, each day the license cost M$274.45, quite an overkill.
Tuesday, May 21, 2019
(1096) The Formula by Luke Dormehl
This is a non-fiction book dealing with the third wave - the algorithm.
I just finished reading the book a few moments ago. Interestingly I could no longer find the exact page to quote what I remember as the highlight. Well, I will attempt to paraphrase what I absorbed. If you are using social media extensively and have purchased a lot of products from on-line sources over time, then there is an extensive file somewhere in the cyberspace documenting your profile base on your likes. Imagine if you have purchased the entire Harry Potter series and maybe also Sabrina the Teenage Witch, supposing Amazon was then recommending you to purchase Hunger Games as an e-book when it was "hot off the press". Based on your on-line history, the algorithm predicted that you are most likely to go for it, then it is likely that you may end up paying up to 4 times the absolute low price offered to another netizen who is most unlikely to purchase it upon initial offer.
In the US a poor woman had been made homeless through a program that replaced human social welfare officer, it followed that she lost her Medicaid benefits as well because the algorithm did not replicate the complex steps that a human decision maker normally goes through deciding who should be given what. It was after much hue and cry that the injustice was righted.
Perhaps I was being biased in quoting back to back two instances that the computer program run afoul of what we perceive to be right or just. Of course the algorithm is here to stay, permeating from one field to another like osmosis. Jobs are taken over, professions could be obsoleted overnight. After reading the book which the last chapter document what the algorithm has achieved in the arts - whether in paintings, plays, movies, TV series - probably a year or two ago, I begin to wonder if someday the profession of writing will be taken over by machines.
I just finished reading the book a few moments ago. Interestingly I could no longer find the exact page to quote what I remember as the highlight. Well, I will attempt to paraphrase what I absorbed. If you are using social media extensively and have purchased a lot of products from on-line sources over time, then there is an extensive file somewhere in the cyberspace documenting your profile base on your likes. Imagine if you have purchased the entire Harry Potter series and maybe also Sabrina the Teenage Witch, supposing Amazon was then recommending you to purchase Hunger Games as an e-book when it was "hot off the press". Based on your on-line history, the algorithm predicted that you are most likely to go for it, then it is likely that you may end up paying up to 4 times the absolute low price offered to another netizen who is most unlikely to purchase it upon initial offer.
In the US a poor woman had been made homeless through a program that replaced human social welfare officer, it followed that she lost her Medicaid benefits as well because the algorithm did not replicate the complex steps that a human decision maker normally goes through deciding who should be given what. It was after much hue and cry that the injustice was righted.
Perhaps I was being biased in quoting back to back two instances that the computer program run afoul of what we perceive to be right or just. Of course the algorithm is here to stay, permeating from one field to another like osmosis. Jobs are taken over, professions could be obsoleted overnight. After reading the book which the last chapter document what the algorithm has achieved in the arts - whether in paintings, plays, movies, TV series - probably a year or two ago, I begin to wonder if someday the profession of writing will be taken over by machines.
Sunday, May 19, 2019
(1095) Long Service Reward
I have followed a friend's long term maid for many years. She is a single Filipina and she sends all her wages home to her parents who used her hard-earned money to bring up a bunch of grandchildren whose parents (siblings of the maid) escaped from their responsibilities.
My friend is a woman of independent means. I know she is quietly planning to keep aside a lump sum that is not part of the maid's legal wage which is stated in the contractual document. Should the maid leave after proper notice and she is pleasant, she will then get the secret gratuity.
Now we will look at an Indonesian maid who stole one golden item every seven weeks or so from her mistress who has dementia. Interestingly this kind of quiet theft went on for three years or so until the death of the mistress. It was discovered by the children of the deceased after the maid returned to her home country. It is also a long serving maid of eighteen years. All these jewels were pawned at the nearby pawn shops. Interestingly, most of them were recovered with the threat of law suits aimed at the small pawn shops - at least the items which have not been resold.
One day I was relating both the above to my mum. What my mum said was eye-opening to me. I have never thought about the employers' moral responsibilities towards contractual workers. According to my mum, it is an unwritten rule that in Asia, long serving maids would be given suitably calculated sums when they retired. Suppose the single maid decides to stay on (assuming legally such a maid could stay on), such a faithful maid would be treated as a family member, any illness, upkeep and all funeral expense would be borne by the employer's children as a matter of course.
My mum said that while she does not condone thefts, she said that the second employer's children probably (being Western educated) do not know of their moral responsibilities and only follow the letter of the law. From an old fashion view, the maid was merely extracting her unwritten due with her wit. Perhaps I am lucky that for most of my adult life, I did not have any maid for domestic service. I did have one helper when I was sick for one year or so. Imagine if I similarly have had a maid for twenty years or so, how was I going to find the large amount to pay out a long service reward?
My friend is a woman of independent means. I know she is quietly planning to keep aside a lump sum that is not part of the maid's legal wage which is stated in the contractual document. Should the maid leave after proper notice and she is pleasant, she will then get the secret gratuity.
Now we will look at an Indonesian maid who stole one golden item every seven weeks or so from her mistress who has dementia. Interestingly this kind of quiet theft went on for three years or so until the death of the mistress. It was discovered by the children of the deceased after the maid returned to her home country. It is also a long serving maid of eighteen years. All these jewels were pawned at the nearby pawn shops. Interestingly, most of them were recovered with the threat of law suits aimed at the small pawn shops - at least the items which have not been resold.
One day I was relating both the above to my mum. What my mum said was eye-opening to me. I have never thought about the employers' moral responsibilities towards contractual workers. According to my mum, it is an unwritten rule that in Asia, long serving maids would be given suitably calculated sums when they retired. Suppose the single maid decides to stay on (assuming legally such a maid could stay on), such a faithful maid would be treated as a family member, any illness, upkeep and all funeral expense would be borne by the employer's children as a matter of course.
My mum said that while she does not condone thefts, she said that the second employer's children probably (being Western educated) do not know of their moral responsibilities and only follow the letter of the law. From an old fashion view, the maid was merely extracting her unwritten due with her wit. Perhaps I am lucky that for most of my adult life, I did not have any maid for domestic service. I did have one helper when I was sick for one year or so. Imagine if I similarly have had a maid for twenty years or so, how was I going to find the large amount to pay out a long service reward?
(1094) Letting out AB&B apartments
A few days ago my daughter and I ate mix rice near my house. It is a stall selling white rice with a wide choice of meat, fish and vegetables in a coffee shop.
I chose a piece of ikan kurau (local name for a sea fish, Chinese call it ma yau) with lots of cooked melon. The price of my lunch came up to $9.00. It is considered expensive hereabouts. A young lady sat down with us as all the tables were occupied. She smiled sweetly before she sat down. I commented that she smiled like one of our friends. My daughter, who is vey friendly, asked if she is from Sabah or Sarawak. It turned out that she is from Ranau, Sabah.
We chatted as we ate lunch, she revealed that she studied and practised as an accountant. Actually she lives in Serdang, quite a distance away. Once a week, her accountant company sent her to audit the accounts of a management company nearby. By the way, it was her last time visiting my neighbourhood as she has resigned. We asked if she has found a new job. No, she owns a little firm letting out homestay apartments.
I ended up telling her that after AB&B became popular, I came across three households infected with bed bugs. One of the families brought in pest control twice, the second ended up spending about $15,000 renovating upstairs as the bed bugs multiplied exponentially and inhabit the ceiling and the beams. The third bought bed bug sprays from on-line sources and diligently killed the bugs nightly and every morning by spray and by hand for months before they declared I could safely sleep in their bed whenever I house sit.
Sometimes, the steps of a person could be ordained by God, this sort of lunch time conversation does not come often. You may think it a co-incidence. But I suggest it is meant to be. If she sat anywhere else, or if my daughter was not there, we may not have had the interesting conversation. She learnt something new from me that may save her thousands in the long run. We talked about cat flea whose eggs could survive a few years in any building. It never occur to her that local visitors would or could smuggle in cats when they stay in AB&B.
I chose a piece of ikan kurau (local name for a sea fish, Chinese call it ma yau) with lots of cooked melon. The price of my lunch came up to $9.00. It is considered expensive hereabouts. A young lady sat down with us as all the tables were occupied. She smiled sweetly before she sat down. I commented that she smiled like one of our friends. My daughter, who is vey friendly, asked if she is from Sabah or Sarawak. It turned out that she is from Ranau, Sabah.
We chatted as we ate lunch, she revealed that she studied and practised as an accountant. Actually she lives in Serdang, quite a distance away. Once a week, her accountant company sent her to audit the accounts of a management company nearby. By the way, it was her last time visiting my neighbourhood as she has resigned. We asked if she has found a new job. No, she owns a little firm letting out homestay apartments.
I ended up telling her that after AB&B became popular, I came across three households infected with bed bugs. One of the families brought in pest control twice, the second ended up spending about $15,000 renovating upstairs as the bed bugs multiplied exponentially and inhabit the ceiling and the beams. The third bought bed bug sprays from on-line sources and diligently killed the bugs nightly and every morning by spray and by hand for months before they declared I could safely sleep in their bed whenever I house sit.
Sometimes, the steps of a person could be ordained by God, this sort of lunch time conversation does not come often. You may think it a co-incidence. But I suggest it is meant to be. If she sat anywhere else, or if my daughter was not there, we may not have had the interesting conversation. She learnt something new from me that may save her thousands in the long run. We talked about cat flea whose eggs could survive a few years in any building. It never occur to her that local visitors would or could smuggle in cats when they stay in AB&B.
(1093) How could a lawyer not read?
This blog is inspired by my daughter's comment: " But how could a lawyer not read?!"
Well, that is very interesting! My old friend happened to be a lawyer, in fact she won 96% of her cases in her chosen area in one particular year. What I meant is this particular lawyer does not read in her leisure time.
After I returned from the States, and before I got married, I used to spend a lot of time with her. We jogged, swam, played tennis and watched plays in the city hall - we were too poor to watch any plays that collect money for tickets. As a lawyer, she would send her dispatch boy to queue for free tickets in the district office. In the process of watching those Saturday night free plays, we two former pure science students learnt much about literary dramas.
One day, we were eating in the Mamak shop (Indian Muslim eatery). I picked up an English newspaper and flipped it to open on the back page. Leisurely I flipped from the back to the front admiring the colour sports photos. She was very surprised! She thought she was the only one who read the papers this way. Well, I was not really reading, I was glancing through the photos and speed reading the head lines that caught my eyes.
She went on to tell me she never read outside of her job as a lawyer. Now, I became very surprised. But, I objected, how could it be that she was so very knowledgeable about everything under the sun? Well, she was and still is a good listener, moreover she could ask relevant questions and patiently dig information out of the many readers who surrounded her. Then I realised how I was one of her info mules, since she asked so prettily, I often summarised principles I learnt after many hours of reading. Since she gave me new info in exchange, I never thought much about imparting hard earned knowledge to her.
Much later, she confessed that she had never finished reading any one book of fiction or non-fiction. I was shocked! By then I realized that reading is an activity that is very tiring for her, she employed it because of her chosen profession, not because she enjoyed it. Years later, she immigrated with her young family to Canada. Until today, I have not visited her. It is not because I don't like her or do not value her as a friend. A return ticket to Canada could not be any less than $5,000 local currency, for some one who has not worked at a paying job for most of the past 25 years, that is an astronomical amount. The last time I met her a few years back, she was planning to become a landlady and a guardian to foreign students who were legally minors in her school district. Though I could see pit falls in her career change, I did not really discourage her much, as I could see that in the new role would mean much less reading of documents during working hours.
Well, that is very interesting! My old friend happened to be a lawyer, in fact she won 96% of her cases in her chosen area in one particular year. What I meant is this particular lawyer does not read in her leisure time.
After I returned from the States, and before I got married, I used to spend a lot of time with her. We jogged, swam, played tennis and watched plays in the city hall - we were too poor to watch any plays that collect money for tickets. As a lawyer, she would send her dispatch boy to queue for free tickets in the district office. In the process of watching those Saturday night free plays, we two former pure science students learnt much about literary dramas.
One day, we were eating in the Mamak shop (Indian Muslim eatery). I picked up an English newspaper and flipped it to open on the back page. Leisurely I flipped from the back to the front admiring the colour sports photos. She was very surprised! She thought she was the only one who read the papers this way. Well, I was not really reading, I was glancing through the photos and speed reading the head lines that caught my eyes.
She went on to tell me she never read outside of her job as a lawyer. Now, I became very surprised. But, I objected, how could it be that she was so very knowledgeable about everything under the sun? Well, she was and still is a good listener, moreover she could ask relevant questions and patiently dig information out of the many readers who surrounded her. Then I realised how I was one of her info mules, since she asked so prettily, I often summarised principles I learnt after many hours of reading. Since she gave me new info in exchange, I never thought much about imparting hard earned knowledge to her.
Much later, she confessed that she had never finished reading any one book of fiction or non-fiction. I was shocked! By then I realized that reading is an activity that is very tiring for her, she employed it because of her chosen profession, not because she enjoyed it. Years later, she immigrated with her young family to Canada. Until today, I have not visited her. It is not because I don't like her or do not value her as a friend. A return ticket to Canada could not be any less than $5,000 local currency, for some one who has not worked at a paying job for most of the past 25 years, that is an astronomical amount. The last time I met her a few years back, she was planning to become a landlady and a guardian to foreign students who were legally minors in her school district. Though I could see pit falls in her career change, I did not really discourage her much, as I could see that in the new role would mean much less reading of documents during working hours.
Thursday, May 16, 2019
(1092) Birds of a feather flock together
Many years ago, my husband and I owned a house in Kuala Lumpur. It has been sold. While we stayed there, I had a friend with children roughly the same ages as mine.
My youngest was two years old, her younger was four. For whatever reason, I tried to tell her about my interest with dyslexia. Whatever little I learned about it in the States, I tried to intervene in my children. She was absolutely not interested and probably thought that I imagined up the whole thing.
At some point, my family moved away to Silver City. There I spent 12 happy years poking my nose into the lives of a few children who came to my house to be taught. Most of them have already missed the academic train and were failing miserably in most subjects. I had some successes and quite a few did not stay long enough to be helped.
Meanwhile, my friend's younger child had a tough, tough time from Standard One to Four. It was really in the pits, apparently the child could not even see words in lines. For her, words flew all over the place. She could no more learn the letters nor could she read in English or Malay. Both of these languages use the letters a to z and the phonetic sounds vary totally.
My friend was tortured by the entire situation, she tried to help. She went to school to talk to her child's teachers. We must admit that the educational system is still comparably backward here. Though we inherited an excellent educational system in 1957 from the British, by the 1990s so much detrimental changes had been made that the entire educational landscape had altered for the worse. Many teachers had never heard of dyslexia. Instead, children were thought to be disobedient, lazy or trouble makers. While the child struggled on, the mum was suffering from an autoimmune disorder that caused great physical pain daily.
She asked me how did I know she would need the kind of knowledge I was trying to impart to her, though she didn't take me seriously. Well, I had to think for a while before I could answer that question. Well, I know she excelled in Chinese primary school. She struggled valiantly in English and did reasonably well in her O-levels. But she failed her Malay and retained a whole year in order to pass one subject. In the process, she took the entire examination again before she joined pre-university. That, in itself said a lot to me about her whole educational history and her linguistic abilities. While I compromised and scored c5 in Chinese, c3 in Malay and a2 in English, She scored a1 in Chinese, a2 in English and f9 in Malay. Later I heard that her daughter majored in psychology. That often happened among children of my friends who tried to make sense of their earlier struggles.
My youngest was two years old, her younger was four. For whatever reason, I tried to tell her about my interest with dyslexia. Whatever little I learned about it in the States, I tried to intervene in my children. She was absolutely not interested and probably thought that I imagined up the whole thing.
At some point, my family moved away to Silver City. There I spent 12 happy years poking my nose into the lives of a few children who came to my house to be taught. Most of them have already missed the academic train and were failing miserably in most subjects. I had some successes and quite a few did not stay long enough to be helped.
Meanwhile, my friend's younger child had a tough, tough time from Standard One to Four. It was really in the pits, apparently the child could not even see words in lines. For her, words flew all over the place. She could no more learn the letters nor could she read in English or Malay. Both of these languages use the letters a to z and the phonetic sounds vary totally.
My friend was tortured by the entire situation, she tried to help. She went to school to talk to her child's teachers. We must admit that the educational system is still comparably backward here. Though we inherited an excellent educational system in 1957 from the British, by the 1990s so much detrimental changes had been made that the entire educational landscape had altered for the worse. Many teachers had never heard of dyslexia. Instead, children were thought to be disobedient, lazy or trouble makers. While the child struggled on, the mum was suffering from an autoimmune disorder that caused great physical pain daily.
She asked me how did I know she would need the kind of knowledge I was trying to impart to her, though she didn't take me seriously. Well, I had to think for a while before I could answer that question. Well, I know she excelled in Chinese primary school. She struggled valiantly in English and did reasonably well in her O-levels. But she failed her Malay and retained a whole year in order to pass one subject. In the process, she took the entire examination again before she joined pre-university. That, in itself said a lot to me about her whole educational history and her linguistic abilities. While I compromised and scored c5 in Chinese, c3 in Malay and a2 in English, She scored a1 in Chinese, a2 in English and f9 in Malay. Later I heard that her daughter majored in psychology. That often happened among children of my friends who tried to make sense of their earlier struggles.
Wednesday, May 15, 2019
(1091) Millennium Trilogy by Stieg Larsson
I borrowed "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" maybe five years ago. Lately all three books fall into my ownership. Therefore I read "The Girl Who Played with Fire" and "The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets' Nest" back to back. All in I read more than a thousand pages within four days.
As in reading crime and detection genre of books, one could hardly put it down. Yet I have another interest reading them: for the Asperger angle. I suspect I have quite a few former Asperger's syndrome family members, both in my extended family and my husband's side.
As I was reading the first book in the Trilogy a second time, I was looking back into my own childhood to examine my own interactions with my suspected childhood playmate. Years ago I knew he was weird and different from most children. Now I see much broad similarities between him and Salander. I run all four children of my playmates through my mind's eye, two of the next generation display fewer traits, yet they too may be high functioning as well. One is in pre-university at age 14, the other was a straight A scorer throughout school life; yet both are somewhat socially inept.
I know dyslexic folks have a hard time overcoming their obstacles, yet out of the many close friends of mine whom I later found to be co-sufferers when their children were diagnosed, they seem to do better than Asperger folks. I know one really cannot choose, if the parent showed up with symptoms on the Autism spectrum, then nobody could guess how each child would turn out. I am relatively lucky that I did not have to deal with a full-blown autistic child.
As in reading crime and detection genre of books, one could hardly put it down. Yet I have another interest reading them: for the Asperger angle. I suspect I have quite a few former Asperger's syndrome family members, both in my extended family and my husband's side.
As I was reading the first book in the Trilogy a second time, I was looking back into my own childhood to examine my own interactions with my suspected childhood playmate. Years ago I knew he was weird and different from most children. Now I see much broad similarities between him and Salander. I run all four children of my playmates through my mind's eye, two of the next generation display fewer traits, yet they too may be high functioning as well. One is in pre-university at age 14, the other was a straight A scorer throughout school life; yet both are somewhat socially inept.
I know dyslexic folks have a hard time overcoming their obstacles, yet out of the many close friends of mine whom I later found to be co-sufferers when their children were diagnosed, they seem to do better than Asperger folks. I know one really cannot choose, if the parent showed up with symptoms on the Autism spectrum, then nobody could guess how each child would turn out. I am relatively lucky that I did not have to deal with a full-blown autistic child.
Saturday, May 11, 2019
(1090) A happy carer is one who is well fed
A neighbour I had in Borneo came to town to babysit her grandson. I thought I caught up with her by having dinner nearby.
She called up and talked for at least an hour. I suppose she settled on me because I spent at least two and a half years listening to her and her husband during all the yummy dinners cooked by their devoted maid. So I know all the ins and outs of her family dynamics and circumstances.
I found it hard to believe that a woman more than sixty years old could spent many days of the two months having one or two meals a day. I managed to swallow it because many years ago I met a young woman who actually woke up at 6:00am but could not find time to eat anything by 2:00pm because she was so busy looking after a bunch of toddlers.
Recently the young woman (not so young anymore now) shared that I opened my big mouth many years ago quoting how on an airplane, should the cabin decompresses, an adult should put on her own oxygen mask before tending to dependents. I could not remember saying such pearls of wisdom. But she is a most truthful person, if she say so with an earnest face, then it was probably so.
This time I suggested that my former neighbour buy a bag of instant oat and a tin of 23 grain protein powder. No matter how busy she was cleaning, playing, feeding or teaching the grandson, it is imperative she make herself a glass of instant oat with hot water and drink it in the morning as early as possible. Then at 12:00pm, she should make herself a thick glass of liquid protein and drink it before 1:00pm.
Perhaps if this lady really adopt my suggestion, she may even lose some unwanted weight. I still remember her gastric pills while working in her contract job in Borneo. It is rather amazing that she has not suffered from gastric so far. Perhaps child care is pure joy, not stressful like supervising 67 subordinates minding a huge store and delivering goods all over the town.
While my acquaintance from many years ago is a tip-top cook and my ex-neighbour is an able administrator, I am pretty hopeless in either province. I barely get by cooking to raise a family and did some simple administrative tasks monitoring student grades and keeping accurate time sheets as a part-time lecturer. I thank God that I am logical and have a few ounces of common sense. No one would ever find me starving because I was too busy caring for infants or toddlers.
She called up and talked for at least an hour. I suppose she settled on me because I spent at least two and a half years listening to her and her husband during all the yummy dinners cooked by their devoted maid. So I know all the ins and outs of her family dynamics and circumstances.
I found it hard to believe that a woman more than sixty years old could spent many days of the two months having one or two meals a day. I managed to swallow it because many years ago I met a young woman who actually woke up at 6:00am but could not find time to eat anything by 2:00pm because she was so busy looking after a bunch of toddlers.
Recently the young woman (not so young anymore now) shared that I opened my big mouth many years ago quoting how on an airplane, should the cabin decompresses, an adult should put on her own oxygen mask before tending to dependents. I could not remember saying such pearls of wisdom. But she is a most truthful person, if she say so with an earnest face, then it was probably so.
This time I suggested that my former neighbour buy a bag of instant oat and a tin of 23 grain protein powder. No matter how busy she was cleaning, playing, feeding or teaching the grandson, it is imperative she make herself a glass of instant oat with hot water and drink it in the morning as early as possible. Then at 12:00pm, she should make herself a thick glass of liquid protein and drink it before 1:00pm.
Perhaps if this lady really adopt my suggestion, she may even lose some unwanted weight. I still remember her gastric pills while working in her contract job in Borneo. It is rather amazing that she has not suffered from gastric so far. Perhaps child care is pure joy, not stressful like supervising 67 subordinates minding a huge store and delivering goods all over the town.
While my acquaintance from many years ago is a tip-top cook and my ex-neighbour is an able administrator, I am pretty hopeless in either province. I barely get by cooking to raise a family and did some simple administrative tasks monitoring student grades and keeping accurate time sheets as a part-time lecturer. I thank God that I am logical and have a few ounces of common sense. No one would ever find me starving because I was too busy caring for infants or toddlers.
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