In the Irish Mode

After bouts of heavy rain and storm, with the existing greyish skyline encapsulating our sight and absolutely no visible clouds present, I could feel the chilling wind blown across my face.

Wearing thick coat and suffering from windblown dry eyes, I still could not resist the notion of bringing my favourite teapot set, a picnic mat and a portable speaker with my favourite Ipod Touch.

Of course I should not forget the brolly, in case it rained.

I strolled to the vast empty lush green field which is next o my house, to enjoy this beautiful weather.

Not too hot nor it is too cold.

The rain droplets hung delicately on the seemingly greener leaves.

The air which is full of negative ions, smelt vividly and seducingly with love and freedom.

With a cup of hot English Tea, some Amos chocolate cookies and Irish pub music - particularly The Dubliners, all these added up to a carefree and enjoyable afternoon.

The weather and the scenery is just right to cleanse the tired, pessimistic soul and the over-strained muscles.

I gently sip the tea.  In the back of my mind where the banjo and flute used to play the Irish music just make the heart relax and dance to the catchy and bouncy rhythm.

Visualise the idyllic countryside of Ireland with the music.

Ahhh, nice and soothing.

Cheers! I lifted my cup to toast the good weather.

How to work with BAD boss

Something I find it strangly amusing and something I have been doing it for awhile.

Something that I should be aware of and something I must never let myself fall into this trap.

Yeah...

Clutterholic - Part 1

Okie, I finally wanted to do something about my room after years of wheedling and whinning. I need to clear my room. For someone who is always reminsicing about the past, this is a real pain. Wanted something to remain in the past to remind myself of the great things I have done and I can do it. I can perform and repeat the miracles again.
I just cant let go of it and seems my life is in the room. But at the same time it is suffocating as it is here to remind it I can do it and I can do it if I want to. I want to do something.
Reasons etc kept me from throwing things off. My parents who are zen-like people, absolutely hated it. They cannot comprehend why a black sheep has appeared in the family. Unkempt, untidy and hoarding things.
Seems like there is a systematic way of keeping things but there are forever not enough space for me.
I, on the other hand, is sort of like a historian in the family. Or so, I like to think myself as. I just couldnt get my hands off those of my possessions. I simply had to have them in my hands or at least in my room. They are the bits and pieces of triggers to the memories that I loved to keep.
Now I got to get rid of them. It is hard. But it has to be done. Otherwise, I am like kept in the past and cannot move on.
I must move on.