The last laugh...

so...I had my first manicure session today.. with my mum-in-law. I have always avoided manicure as I didn't want my nails to turn yellowish because of the chemicals.

While we had our mani & pedi, there was a young girl brought there by her mummy. She was probably seven. She was doing her mani & pedi, and her tai-tai mummy was taking pictures of her, after which they would be heading to Paragon. Hmm, is that how new age mothers dote on their children these days? In fact, the manicurist mentioned that it is hardly uncommon these days for children to come in. She will personally not allow her kids to do it at a young age, but in tough times like this, as long as they pay, they will do it even for baby clients....oh well, every parent has their own set of parenting values.

Anyways, a short story to share before I go mask my face and continue my bedtime reading.

This is a true story from Ajahn Chah on how to deal with abuse.

An American G.I. was traveling from the base into town on a rickshaw. On the outskirts of town, they passed a roadside bar where some friends of the rickshaw driver were already quite drunk.

"Hey!" they shouted in Thai. "Where are you taking that dirty dog to?" Then they laughed, pointing at the American soldier.

For a moment, they driver was alarmed. The soldier was a very big man and in Thailand calling someone a "dirty dog" meant an inevitable fight. However, the soldier was quietly looking around, enjoying the beautiful scenery. Obviously, he did not understand the Thai language.

The driver, deciding to have some fun at the American's expense, shouted back, "I'm taking this filthy dog and throwing him in the Moon River to give the smelly mongrel a wash!"

As the driver and his drunken friends laughed, the soldier remained unmoved.

When they reached their destination and the driver put out his hand for the journey's fare, the American soldier quietly began to walk away.

The rickshaw driver excitedly shouted after him in broken but clear English, "Hey! Sir! You pay me dollars!"

To which the big American soldier calmly turned around and said in perfectly accented Thai, "Dog's don't have money."

Precious Stones - coz you can't buy them!
























The above two are taken during the last Dongzhi celebration. It has a wonderful bouncy texture hopefully justifed by the photo. More importantly, our families gathered to enjoy the hand-rolled Tang Yuans!

Today I am going to talk about Precious Stones by Ajahn Brahm. Pardon me for quoting them frequently, oh well blame it on American Idol. Hee - thats my in-between advertisement time activity. I read a book - some stories I can't help but wana share.


At a famous U.S. business school some years ago, a professor delivered an extraordinary lecture on social economics to his graduating class. Without explaining what he was doing, the professor carefully placed a glass jar on his desk. Then, in view of his students, he brought out a bag full of stones and placed them one by one in the jar, until no more would go in. He asked his students, "Is the jar full?"

"Yes," they replied.

The professor smiled. From beneath the desk, the professor produced a second bag, this one full of gravel. He then managed to shake the smaller stones into the spaces between the bigger stones in the jar. A second time, he asked his students, "Is the jar full?"

"No," they answered. They were on to him by now.

They were correct, of course, for the professor produced a bag of fine sand. He managed to coax much of the sand into the spaces between the stones and the gravel within the jar. Again he asked, "Is the jar full?"

"Probably not, Professor, knowing you," the students replied.

Smiling at their answer, the professor brought out a small jug of water, which he poured into the jar full of stones, gravel and sand. When no more water would fit in the jar, he put down the jug and looked at his class.

"So, what does this teach you?" he asked his students.

"That no matter how busy your schedule," offered one of the students, "you can always fit something more in!" It was a famous business school, after all.

"No!" thundered the professor emphatically. "What it shows is that if you want to get the big stones in, you have to put them in first."

It was a lesson in priorities.

So what are the "big stones" in your "jar"? What is most important to fit into your life? Please ensure that you schedule in the "precious stones" first, or you'll never get around to them, to fit them into your day.

The Most Beautiful Sound

Mum baked these muffins on the morning that bro was to fly back to Australia.

She was having a cold and fever for the past few days then, but she still rose to the occasion and baked chocolate chip muffins for the family.

A closer look: Hmm, slurp slurp

This is a little cosy corner put up by mum.

Want to share another story I have read :)

An uneducated old man was visiting a city for the first time in his life. He had grown up in a remote mountain village, worked hard raising his children, and was now enjoying his first visit to his children's modern homes.

One day, while being shown around the city, the old man heard a sound that stung his ears. He had never heard such an awful noise in his quiet mountain village and he insisted on finding its cause. Following the grating sound back to its source, he came to a room in the back of a house where a small boy was practicing on a violin.

Screech! Scrape! came the discordant notes from the groaning instrument.

When he was told by his son that that was called a "violin," he decided he never wanted to hear such a horrible thing again.

The next day, in a different part of the city, the old man heard a sound that seemed to caress his aged ears. He had never heard such an enchanting melody in his mountain valley, so he demanded to find its cause. Following the delightful sound back to its source, he came to a room in the front of a house where an old lady, a maestro, was performning a sonata on a violin.

At once, the old man realized his mistake. The terrible sound that he had heard the previous day was not the fault of the violin, not even the boy. It was just that the young man had yet to learn his instrument.

With a wisdom reserved for the simple folk, the old man thought it was the same with religion. When we come across a religious enthusiast causing such strife with his beliefs, it is incorrect to blame the religion. It is just that the novice has yet to learn his religion well. When we come across a saint, a maestro of her religion, it is such a sweet encounter that it inspires us for many years, whatever their beliefs.

...but that was not the end of the story of the old man and the violin.

The third day, in a different part of the city, the old man heard another sound that surpassed in its beauty and purity even that of the maestro on her violin. What do you think that sound was?

It was as sound more beautiful than the cascade of the mountain stream in spring, the autumn wind through the forrest groves, or the mountain birds singing after a heavy rain. It was even more beautiful then the silence in the mountain hollows on a still winter's night. What was that sound that moved the old man's heart more powerfully than anything before?

It was a large orchestra palying a symphony.

The reason that it was, for the old man, the most beautiful sound in the world was, firstly, that every meember of that orchestra was a maestro of their own instrument; and secondly, that they had further learned how to play together in harmony.

"Maybe it be the same with religion," the old man thought. "Let each one of us learn through the lessons of life that soft heart of our beliefs. Let us each be a maestro of the love within our religion. Then, having learned our religion well, let us go further and learn how to play, like members of an orchestra, with other religions in harmony together!"

That would be the most beautiful sound.