Sweet summer

All the berries are out to-day!
Red-ripened in the sun
Sticky baubles, now on display,
now in a currant bun.

I was walking back from church for the last time day (visiting a different church with my parents’ friends next week) and there were so many blackberry brambles along Celandine Walk! The roads were full of temptation – is it theft? – not quite the same retail temptations that assail becks on the way to her church in central london.

How does one walk home without reaching out and picking some off to munch on? I was rather proud of my self-control, if only because I couldn’t identify most of them and didn’t want to get a tummyache from greed.

look at these grapes!

and cherries!

are hollyberries edible?

and blackberries!

waiting for my luve to come before they ripen. ten more days!!!! imma take him blackberrying with me and recover my enid blyton childhood. we’re so excited.

it was awful leaving church today. the pastor was gave out two gifts in the middle of the service, one to yvette, who had been serving as a deacon for 20 years with the church, and one for me, who’d been playing the piano for them for a measly two and a half months but apparently it counted for something. i am not worthy. i brought my pastor a box of lindt, i think all brits young and old are fond of sweets, unlike many stodgy parents back in singapore who subsist on nasty jujubes that burn in your mouth. the organist apparently has a secret store of aniseed flavoured boiled sweets tucked away in a paper bag in the corner of the piano which i’d noticed but did not touch because i didn’t know whose they were and today he offered one to me. if you don’t know what anise is like it’s the flowering plant that looks like this

(shot this in one of the woods here) and is the flavour of red coloured strepsils. also the sweets that milly-molly-mandy eats in the series by joyce lankester brisley.

today i confirmed one of my nagging suspicions about myself which is that i liked to be kissed. especially by old people (and also by sticky five-year-olds). the delightful ones with pearly white hair and that smell of lavender that plant lovely smacks on your cheek. !! it always takes me by surprise, especially since there are no such old ladies or old men in singapore who’d kiss you like that. they don’t even hug you. i’m not saying they ought to or ought not to, just that it feels extra nice now especially since it’s novel for me. kissed by the old ladies in america, kissed by the old ladies here. gyabo!! gah i wish i didn’t have to leave them.

but singaporean church aunties are in a whole different league of their own. i know i said his church aunties were stalking me on fb but apparently mine are much worse lol. so he went to my church (in singapore) today to pass smth to my mum and apparently her cabal of friends were hiding behind a pillar peeking out at him while she was talking to him. subtle much. but my church aunties don’t have fb unlike his so must grant ‘em concessions. haha. they all thought he was the bees’ knees and everything of course, as much as they could tell from their up-down, once over appraisal. but liangze’s the sort of person who has the super guai boy-next-door look, carefully honed by all the checkered shirts he wears. :P well he has one more year to prep himself for the inevitable are-you-good-enough-for-ivana interrogations, home church round. one mustn’t take them seriously though. they’re lovely people who have a brilliant sense of humour and their interrogations are just huge teasing sessions for their personal entertainment :P as long as you embarrass cutely and know how to laugh at yourself you’ll be fine.

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