Portal opening

Ramblings about life . . .

What I share about my life is simply to help reinforce the understanding that it is possible to live with love and laughter, in between the tough times.

Life is what we make of it, no matter how harrowing. We accept and embody this with-in ourselves, thereby allowing the energy to manifest outwardly in our reality.

It starts with each one of us as an individual to form the collective consciousness.

Be the dream.

We honour the light and the life within you.

Please be aware - I upload other bloggers' posts and then delete after a month. This is my journey and others help me understand where I am, until they become irrelevant (a few posts excepted).

Tuesday, 28 February 2017

Butterfly lips

So, my nickname is "butterfly lips".


My hubby, being from a Malaysian background, loves curry in all its forms. I'm not particularly enamoured of it, but will eat if I have to. He has to tamp down the heat for me when he cooks, otherwise my butterfly lips will die a horrible death.

I recall many years ago when he was away doing his compulsory two month military camp (in South Africa), his Mum gave me a whole lot of frozen meals she'd prepared so I didn't have to cook. Yikes, one of them was curried squid. Blimmin' heck, I reckon the longer it sits the stronger it becomes. As a result I couldn't eat it! Not even the dogs would touch it.

Both my kids are seasoned curry lovers. After 30 odd years, you'd think I was too. But no, my lips ain't having none of it.

Even so, the dishes he makes are so delicious that I enjoy eating them, as long as I have lots of yoghurt and banana with the meal.

I've only ever seen Greg beaten once by a curry dish - when we were in Kuala Lumpur. That was a funny experience. If he ever raises the subject of my being a softie when it comes to curry, I liken it to his meal there, cos that's what it's like for me.

I'd never had a curried meal until I met him. As I come from a British background we only ever ate that kinda food. I know nowadays curry in the UK is the norm, but I suppose when my Mum emigrated to the then called Rhodesia (Zimbabwe) with her parents, it wasn't, so she'd never made it - that I can recall anyway.

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