Nothing special but special enough

One of the best things about living in Asia is the food. Particularly that of the fried or steamed Chinese variety. Preferably that served on a big round white-tableclothed table, and preferably with a fully functional Lazy Susan. There must be tea, there must be boxes on the menu to tick. There must be spring rolls, there must be pork buns. There must be a waiter filling up your pot of hot water every 4 seconds and there must be inappropriate pop music in the background. 

It's just the way it has to be.

I give you....Saturday's feast.



Needless to say, I could have eaten more. But when you're husband is 6' 4", cracks a century, and he says he's had enough? You regretfully pull your pig-arse appetite in and vehemently agree.

The rest of the weekend we spent hanging out with friends, perusing some kids shops, swimming, spending time as a family with our little man, cooking portuguese chilli chicken burgers on the BBQ and sipping pinot on the balcony.

Our weekends aren't overly special at the moment, but they're exactly what we need. 
We've got special coming up in the next few months, so for now what is, is good.

HK doggy style

I can only imagine what sort of traffic that heading is going bring to my blog. A friend of mine shot this video down at Stanley on the weekend, and it cracked me up. It's just so Hong Kong. And so ridiculous! I think they call this "taking the dog for a walk". God I love the Chinese.

What a difference a year can make

We're in the midst of summer here which means cracking days full of blue blue skies and hot hot sun. It gets to about 32 degrees each day and the humidity gets close to 100%. Summer here brings typhoon season. We've already had a T8 raised which never ceases to be a novelty for everyone.

It's summer. In all its Hong Kong glory.

Watching the typhoon on its way, from our balcony. 

This time last year I was 14 weeks pregnant. I spent most of my days sweating it up in Midlevels, exhausted, trudging up and down that godforsaken escalator with my hand carefully positioned over my mouth in case I needed to catch what seemed to constantly be making its way out. I still had scars from all the doors that were slammed in my face while I was hunting for that illustrious job and I was yet to discover what on earth the attraction was of living in Hong Kong. I was bored, sick, lonely. 

What a difference a year can make.

The air is cleaner and cooler out here at The Pok. There's always a comforting breeze to take the bite out of the sun and being able to look out of the windows at the water every day instantly brings a relaxing feeling of cool. I spend my days hanging out with my beautiful boy at home in the air-con, in the pool at our apartment or at the cricket club, visiting friends or doing bits and pieces around town. We swim, we laugh, we eat, we learn new things about each other. I can call myself a freelance writer. I now see Hong Kong as home and can see what a life over the next few years here might look like. I'm happy, healthy, complete.

What a difference a year can make.