My son thoroughly dislikes handwriting practice. And his alphabets bear the brunt of his displeasure with the entire exercise. They look like someone electrocuted them and left them hopping all over the place on their own devices.
You start out with one letter written properly, with the line: space ratio maintained but five letters down and it’s like the Titanic; sinking fast and no rescue in sight.
We do the whole cajole-growl-praise routine and somehow things get accomplished. But those letters still look like they’ve been touched by a live wire.
I am ready to be included in the pantheon of martyrs now. I watched Sharknado. And am glad that I did because it is the MOTHER of all BAD movies. It is SO bad it’s the BEST BAD movie of them all!
It’s BEYOND preposterous, ludicrous, over-the-top. It defies explanation and expression.
Like good things tempt us, bad things tempt us even more. When I say bad I don’t necessarily mean sinful or decadent or even libertine in any way. I mean BAD as in how-in-God’s-name-was-this-allowed-type bad.
Movies fall into this category very well, thankfully because sometime your brain likes the jolt that comes from watching something so utterly ludicrous and bad that it’s actually farcical and that in itself is a way to destress.
It seemed like some frat boys high on some high on acid had come up with the idea and well let’s say I was intrigued enough to see what they executed with such a brainstorm.
So I’m going to watch it and hopefully find a new source of entertainment in the process.
A beautifully written, non-preachy, non-judgemental blog post by a beautiful woman who was quite a “boy” while growing up. She talks about being a *person* vs being a male or female.
I have been shying away from highly controversial topics on this blog recently because I just couldn’t take the drama that naturally associates with it. But I keep hearing the story of Ryland, a child who was born a female, whose parents have transitioned her to male at 5 years old. You can see the full story HERE, but in short, because their daughter identified herself as a boy, and liked “boy” things as opposed to “girl” things, they cut off her hair, bought her “boy” clothes, and have begun telling her, and others, that she is a boy.
I have no degree in early childhood development, nor have I studied psychology. I didn’t even graduate from College.
I am also not here to pass judgement on Ryland’s parents. I believe that they are doing what they believe to be the most loving thing for their child. I’m simply sharing my…
One of our first pets is dead. We bought MLM his first goldfish pair exactly two weeks ago. He wasn’t excessively fond of them; am glad about that since I had visions of his using the net or even his hands to want to talk to them or caress them. In fact even when he wanted his toys to become a part of the goldfish bowl world he told me about it first and I washed the toys carefully and introduced them to their new watery home.
I woke up this morning and went to check on them like I do every day and one of them seemed very sluggish to my sleepy eyes. But he/she wasn’t belly up yet. I thought maybe a change of water would inject some freshness in their lives; literally. But the fish died even before I could transfer it into cleaner waters and eventually hitched a ride on the porcelain express.
But a larger questions looms up now. What do I tell the kid? He will eventually notice after his attention shifts from the Dragons of Berk and the Ultimate Spiderman that either Nemo or Memo (yes, he named them that) is not there anymore.
The last two times when Death came up in everyday conversation I’d waited for him to take the lead and give me some insight into what he’d understood by it. And I just followed suit.
When Littlefoot’s mother died after her fight with the T-Rex, MLM said she was tired and was sleeping and he thought the earthquake that happened separated them for good. Not being able to understand the actual scenario. The rest of the movie kept him so engrossed he didn’t ask about her ever again. Problem solved.
When my husband’s grandmother passed away he sensed something out of the ordinary was up. He was just 4 and 1/2 years old at the time and was eerily still at seeing her dead body when they brought her home and also when we went to pay our last respects. He got a bit agitated when the funeral van took her away for the cremation because unknown people were taking away someone he knew and he didn’t know where they were taking her. But in the months after whenever we’ve visited the house she lived in, he’s always gone into her room but accepted that she’s not going to be there because he doesn’t ask about her anymore.
He’ll be 5 soon. As far as I know he’s still too young to comprehend the concept. Hell, I don’t get it beyond the actual technical parts of it viz heart stopping et al. But of late all his questions have been heavily laced with the ‘whys’ and am not sure what I should tell him once he notices the fish isn’t there?
Am stuck between saying it’s sick (which is true or rather was true) and it’s gone to the doctor and replacing it with a new goldfish or just telling him that it’s gone away without being morbid.
Whatever comes to my mind whenever the question comes up, here’s a look at Nemo and Memo in happier and alive days.
With their temporary roommate- the diver man.A little tete-a-tete.The daily dose of fishbowl gossip.
Once upon a time. A slightly borderline woman bought a nice camera. And promptly crossed the border.
Here are things her eyes viewed.
King Kong attacking a car!A fly magnified.Seeing if shoes float.A girl and her shadow in the rain water.Flight of the bubble-against a red sky.Flight of a bubble- heat background.CyclistFather and son- pencil sketchMy eyes spy a bubble.Teenager in motion.
Tabula Rasa may be a clean slate but it shows you its quirky side through its menus, the little quips and a nice, mellow, chilled out owner who take your orders, brings you food and also checks if it’s burptastic rather than sit on a lofty perch somewhere or have a cell phone stuck to his ears.
But before we start extolling the virtues of the people there, let’s look at the main thing in any restaurant…FOOD.
The food is Italian. No two ways about it. Right from their antipasto, to their Insalata and their main courses which give you a usual array of pastas and the sauces that go with them.
We had ordered a mushrooms with rosemary and garlic bread for starters, Supremo (white sauce with veggies, mildly spicy and lots of broccoli) with ravioli and a spaghetti with beef bolognaise.
The thing about ravioli that is available in most restaurants in Hyderabad (when it is available that is) is that either it’s too doughy and you have to literally chew your heart out or it just falls apart and all the stuffing scatters in your food. With beef too you end up taking a chance since it’s either not a good cut and very rubbery and you end up spending more time chewing and less time swallowing. Even with the mince. The sauces in both the main courses were flavorful and the pasta perfectly cooked.
The servings were just right I’d have to say. Some places have trouble striking a balance and end up giving you either not enough or too much and you have to doggy bag it later.
What I really liked about this place is that they catered to a mildly fussy little boy’s palate by making a plate of gooey, tasty mashed potatoes for him even though it wasn’t on their menu, even as a side dish.
That alone will have me going back for more.
The decor is unpretentious with wide tables (a must for people like us who carry big bags and park our digital media on the table while feeding a child), good lighting but muted enough for ambiance. There’s outdoor seating as well and an interesting chandelier which caught my eye but I was too busy snarfing up my food to take a picture.
And with a bill of about Rs.1700 inclusive of taxes for a meal for 3 that comprised of a starter, mocktails, main courses..it is a good deal for a place like Jubilee Hills and is very easy to find.
Try it out! You might have a few favorite grub joint.
