Today I was at a conference all day in the Marina Bay Sands. I packed a sweater so I wouldn’t get too cold, but since the conference room was packed with people I was actually too hot rather than too cold.
The last time I was at a conference at the Marina Bay Sands, I was nonplussed by the revolting food that was served – given that you’re in a gold-plated hotel complex built without any expense spared, you would expect the food to be decent rather than unmitigated misery, a bland nothingness that tasted of disappointment and sadness. Learning from my experiences, I skipped the buffet line of heated trays and just scoffed dessert, because you can’t go wrong with raspberry chocolate cake, macarons and creme brulee, and that worked out just fine until I had a tarrible sugar crash mid afternoon.
Continue reading “Lunch at the Marina Bay Sands”
Because La Serpiente has had no school today, to prevent her or any of the other pupils contracting Hand Foot & Mouth Disease, she’s been a little bit antsy. No scampering around the bus stop with her friends, no stopping for miniature croissants at the Tiong Bahru Bakery, no being carried along by her father. All this leads to a slightly frayed mind.
As a treat, just before bath time my wife brought down the kaleidoscope that she got as a Christmas present a few years ago, and turned it on. It whirred and rotated and projected different coloured waves of light on the walls of the bedroom. This entertained La Serpiente. Until my wife got annoyed at La Serpiente’s constant capering and avoiding getting undressed, and turned the kaleidoscope off.
Continue reading “Kaleidoscope hijinks”
Today we went back to Limehouse, the Caribbean bar where I drank so much on Christmas Day that I had to go home and be sick. It was also the first place where La Serpiente Negra ate solid food, and, four months and a day later, she marked another step forward by walking across the floor of the restaurant. I suppose that was actually six steps; at the time, I didn’t even really notice. I was busy ruminating on her resemblance to my paternal grandmother (it’s the grin, I think, or the lack of teeth at this point) so it was only in retrospect that I realized she’d beaten the goal I’d set for her, of walking before eleven months.
Satisfied with her performance, and because it was raining too much to go to the park, we went to the Singapore Art Museum instead.
Continue reading “Shouting At Art”