Against the Current

“The little things? The little moments? — They aren’t little.”

— John Zabat-Zinn

Settled in bed with hot cup of Horlicks after a long weekend of doing nothing. Well, nothing is not really accurate.

I woke up this morning and made a beeline for the flower market – a weekly ritual of mine before I fell ill in June and had to spend most of my time indoors.

Saturday saw us view a potential property then head to a part of town we’d never otherwise go for a bit of a day trip (hooray for adventure). While my partner went out on Saturday night for drinks at the new Tiong Bahru Club, I settled in to my awesome routine of CSI and a face mask. Normcore to the max. It was bliss.

Highlight of the long weekend amongst all that eating and gallivanting: lunch at Wild Rocket (that red rice salmon and baby octopus donburi though!). Just as good as I remembered.

In the studio today, I packed orders and made a fresh batch of aromatherapy goods. Two handpoured beeswax candles and a new skin serum I’ve been working on which includes red raspberry seed oil – rich in tocopherols, essential fatty acids, super anti-inflammatory properties and even has the potential to work as a broad spectrum UVA/UVB protector, studies show. So far, so good. Can’t wait for them to reach the lovely people they’re destined to reach.

What is it about weekends where on Friday, you have a whole list of things to do on Saturday and Sunday but when the time finally rolls around, you can barely seem to get anything done…

COOKED a mean beef stroganoff on spaghetti today. It tasted amazing which can only mean that I am getting stronger by the day.

BURNING hinoki and rosewood essential oils. The haze and pollution has been truly horrible (say no to illegal wildfires!) so it’s a blessing to have some of the best essential oils in my arsenal to help purify the air and help with my breathing. If anything, this renews our decision to never work with palm oil.

TRYING to not lose my *ish at the loud construction going on outside. Imagine waking up at 5.45 am to the sound of jackhammering. It’s insane. That said, the peeps who man the hotlines at NEA are just lovely-pants!

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