a friend emails. and talks to me of the weather there and how it gets impossibly cold, and i can't wait, i can't wait for my next winter's night, with snowfall on my nose and the way it's so cold it becomes hot. i love the many bundles of clothing one has to put on and the scarfs and the beanies (which i have a neck of losing) and the gloves and the mufflers (yes, cold ears) and hoo boy, do i love those trench coats and those that plumps one up to look like a little duck waddling, i love mine, mine--not a hand-me-down, all mine. my thick fluff coat sadly does not have a fur collar, (i think they're sexy ok), but i love every inch of it. :)

a winter's night sure sounds lovely doesn't it? the terms suggest warm cuddles and hot chocolate, of the musky scent of wood burning and for some reason, pine and eucalyptus. it resonates this bundled romanticism, of coated lovers hugging in the cold, lying in the snow making snow angels and snow ball fights? surely, you say, surely the slush and the wet feet and the cold are not funny after a while--but you know, for that moment, it's just the perfect time, perfect time for anything really.

like a postcard, i see the house alit with fairy lights, i see the trees covered in snow, i see the chimney with its curly wisps of smoke, i see the candles on the table and the fluff coat in the corner--an amazing magical white coated world.

but as for tropical little singapore, the rain will just have to do.
:) but as the boyscout would remember, not too fondly, sitting under this red blanket in the rain at mac ritchie, and as the ex-boyfriend would frantically try to pull me under his umbrella given my enjoyment of running into the rain.