A Surprising Museum Visit

I haven’t gone to museum for a while, and I have to say I kind of miss it. So, when my husband offered to take us to this Norwich City Aviation Museum, I didn’t think twice to say yes. And I am glad I went with him because the museum is unexpectedly interesting.

I am not a huge fan of aeroplanes. And, I have this nagging suspicion that my husband who happens to like aeroplanes might have an ulterior motive when he asked me if I wanted to go to this museum. But really… going a museum is probably as amusing as seeing your husband turning into a schoolboy version of himself when he saw these iron birds…

You know what? I don’t usually promote something like this, but IF you are interested in aviation, and you happen to be in Norwich, I think it might worth it to go and see this place. It is run and managed by volunteers, but it was done incredibly well and very professional. The entrance ticket is cheap and unlike a lot of museums, you are actually allowed to take as many photos as you like and you can even touch some of the articles in display.

If you are in luck, you can even get an extra guided tour for a fee to enter one of the historical planes outdoor. Sorry I cannot remember the name of the plane — like I said, I am not a huge fan of aeroplanes — I might remember stuff a bit better if it is a yarn museum and we’re talking about wool and spindles.

Talking about wool and yarn and other nice things… My WIP is actually progressing well. I have to say that I do really enjoy this project much more than the previous one, and I am now about to sew it up together and finishing a project. What a happy news!

Having a next project in my head now… Hope this knitting bug doesn’t leave anytime soon…

x ❤ x

SNOW!!

Okay… I missed the snow again this year. It’s been the second year I was in Indonesia when the big snow in the UK (read: Norwich) happened. In a way it is a good thing because snow means cold, but yesterday (the last weekend, basically) I woke up to this:

img_2862

Snow!

My husband is definitely not happy about the whole snowy thing, because we had to go out and about in the city, and do out allotment. Oh yeah… we’ve got an allotment plot now 😀 (that’s another story though). Plus… it was his birthday.

Lol. He really doesn’t like snowy birthday.

img_2863

For me? Well… It is kind of exciting really, because I haven’t seen of felt snow for awhile now. It is not enough to build a snowman, but hey, who wants to build a snowman anyway. (No, Anna! I don’t want to build a bloody snowman… )

Hopefully it is warmer today as I might want to go for a little shopping trip.

Gotta go. Have a nice day 🙂

x ❤ x

PS. Do you know if you type “have a nice day” too fast, you sometimes end up with “have an ice day“?

The Twiglets…

I started noticing Twiglets since I am in the UK, but I am haven’t really tried it up until last year. My husband introduced it to me, after he found out that I actually enjoyed Marmite. Marmite is… I actually am not sure what it is, but it is a kind of thing people here use in their toast to make it very tasty…

img_2435

Twiglets are basically a type of crisps, taste like Marmite. If you are from Australia, my husband said that it might be something that reminds you of a stronger Vegemite.

I thought Twiglets are popular in any western country — means everywhere else that is not Indonesia. But apparently I was wrong.

Anyway, I got hooked after I tried this twiglets thing. They are much better than potato crisps, and some swears that they are even healthier. I know… I know there is no such thing as healthy crisps, but if there are any, it must be twiglets.

img_2448

However, Twiglets are rarely on sale on supermarket, so I have to be very cunning in storing them. Like — for example — when I found them in poundland (it’s like one dollar store, but in poundsterling…). Yes, I stash them. Same thing happened when I found Guinnes flavoured potato crisps…

And no… I don’t feel guilty stashing crisps at home.

Away from the nibbles… I just realised that the photo I uploaded last time was from the wrong side. How bizarre…

img_2446

Here… the right side, and a bit of progress 🙂

x ❤ x

How (Not) To Be A Good Neighbour…

My neighbours just had a row today.

I don’t like it.

Things like that always made me feel anxious — especially when I was caught in between the parties in dispute. Well… not exactly caught in the middle, but was in an extremely close proximity, and definitely wasn’t a comfortable distance from where it happened.

Ah… there’s unfortunately no shortcut to tell this story, so bear with me while I am telling you the background of the story. I will keep it very brief.

img_0623

our garden view from the inside

I have a very dear neighbour, she is a 80-something year old lady who was a friend of my husband’s late mother. Last year her son died because of medical negligence, and only won the case few weeks ago — yes you can even find the story on the newspaper. In the memory of his son, she planted a beautiful rose bush — understandably she is very particular about that flower bush.

Now, I live in a complex, where we shared communal garden. Even though there is a sign “no ball games”, the sign was only put in a certain area. Two areas that is not covered by that sign was in our back garden (mine and this lady’s), and the neighbouring block’s back garden — where their residences’s kids often plat football games there.

woops... that's the ball, and look... those are my tomatoes!!

woops… that’s the ball

To be honest, there’s nothing wrong with children playing outside. It is good, considering there are a lot of kids whose worlds were only their room and their tv or computer. It is refreshing to see kids being active. But these kids are more than active. They’re slightly… well…

When the summer holiday started, and they were out with their ball, my husband has told them to be careful where they’re kicking. When I came back from Indonesia two weeks ago, two of my tomato pots was broken. My neighbour reported to me that she has reminded them as well, but only two days ago I found my courgette plant was half snapped.

And look… whose ball was found next to it?

well well... that's the ball again... looking shifty next to my courgette

well well… that’s the ball again… looking shifty next to my limpy and sad courgette plant

The ball has hit my neighbour’s windows and front door several times already at that time — which really worried and annoyed her. But the last straw was today when the ball hit the rose bush. THE rose bush.

My neighbour took away the ball, and the kid’s dad went to her. She refused to give the ball back without giving the father a long speech about respect for other people’s property, etc. The father started yelling at her, and then started to swear as well. I mean… seriously, yelling at a 80 year old lady over a ball?

I am not a kind of person who complains about my tomatoes or my courgette — although both my husband and my neighbour told me to file a complain about it, because direct confrontation often set off my anxiety. But I do feel that the father being angry to us while his kid was the one being unruly? Really?

Do you have neighbour from hell like this one?

x ❤ x

Norwich Pride 2016

Norwich Pride is one of my favourite things to expect in the summer. It was always colourful, full of music, and packed with excitement. I love Norwich even more when I join these people marching.

rain... rain... go away...

rain… rain… go away…

This year is a little bit different. Instead of starting the parade from Chapelfield garden to the Forum, we started from the Forum to Chapelfield garden. And we have a slightly longer route. I am not sure whether I like the new route better or not, but I think it is a good idea to finish the parade in the garden.

We had a bit of drizzle too. Last year it was scorching hot, and this year it was nicer because it was cooler. I was a bit worried that it will rain and melt my make up, but it didn’t — and my make up was intact when I arrived home.

My husband started to enjoy this thing. Last year he wasn’t planning on marching, but accidentally trapped in the middle of moving people. This year, he was prepared for this. We didn’t get free whistles like what we had last year though, and I even had to buy wristbands and flags — not that I mind contributing some money for the cause, but I am just mentioning the difference between this year and last year.

img_1221

But like last year… I LOVE THE POLICE OFFICERS!!

Not only because they look incredibly awesome in the uniform (yes I have a thing for people in uniform) — decorated with pride themed accessories, but they were also totally wonderful. They even turned the siren on while welcoming us on the finish line — and cheered and clapped for us too. I think Norfolk constabulary is one of the best!

Are you going to join me next year?

x ❤ x

 

Worries…

I was trying to compose something about my holiday in Indonesia, and I did try hard. But somehow nothing came out right.

It was definitely an exciting holiday. I remember us being so enthusiastic — preparing, packing up, getting my husband proper vaccination and malaria pills. Even with my husband personal feelings towards flying, the flight wasn’t too bad — I admit having Deadpool on the in flight entertainment did help a lot in distracting my husband from thinking about flying.

of course having red wine on our aeroplane meal helped too...

of course having red wine on our aeroplane meal helped too…

I remember the train journey and how we ended up exceedingly tired because of the delay — the engine breakdown. I remember the party, and my sisters and my brother. And my parents who were so happy about having the complete set of family members in one room — something that is rarely happen recently due to us being away from home.

But when I tried to compose them to a story. It just don’t come out right.

Once I set my feet at Norwich, the excitement is gone. The holiday feelings. The sense of adventure. They’re just gone and replaced by worries. Lots of them.

view from the train, just when the dawn broke...

view from the train, just when the dawn broke…

Since I have been shouted at on the street few days before I left for Indonesia, I could no longer feel safe. After Brexit, I could no longer feel at home, nor feel welcome as a guest in this country. My husband who is a white British born and bred tried so hard to convince me otherwise, but with so many horrible news lately… it is hard not to think about the worst.

Really.

It made me think, is it possible that I could be happier if we move somewhere else?

x ❤ x

 

Lunch in Bed…

Ah now you wish, don’t you. Lunch in bed after breakfast in bed, and snuggling up in warm duvet while the cloudy grey day promises showers. But nope, the day was great, and sunny. And warm with soft breeze cooling it down when the sun gets too fierce.

And it wasn’t really lunch in bed. It was lunch in Bed…ford.

Bedford!


Yes we are in Bedford. When I said “we” what i meant was my husband and I. My husband’s company had a project fixing windows in a church in Bedford. He asked me if I would like to go with him there – not to fix windows of course.

And I would like to. So I went.


Bedford was beautiful. I don’t think it is bigger than Norwich by size, but it is bustling. The shopping area is not as pleasant as our Gentleman’s walk, and their Arcade is not a Royal Arcade like ours.

But damn that river.


I’d love to live in a city which has a river and a garden like that. I mean yes we do have both parks and rivers in the city, but not both at the same time– not in the middle of the city.

But that’s not what I like about Bedford the most. It is this photo:


Seems like they know their priority.

x ❤ x