<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d6268487116956548848\x26blogName\x3dAbsit+Invidia\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLACK\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://butabanasaurus.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_GB\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://butabanasaurus.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d9198394895490900188', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>



Wednesday, 17 February 2010

[ ..butter cookies.. ]

Sis and mom came back from Raintown already! There comes my cookies supply!! Yays!! =D

Turns out I have an extra jar of butter cookies because my grand-aunty whom I have not seen visited for two years, still remember that I love the butter cookies she made.

She remembered how I always finished the whole plate of butter cookies placed on the table when I went to visit her with mom during CNY.

She remembered the one year, how I daringly asked her to make a full jar for me the next year when I come again. And she did reserved a jar for me.

She remembered how happy I was, savouring the butter cookies she made, every year I visit her.

I felt like shit now for not going back home to see her. It's not the angpaos and everything else that I care. It's the butter cookies that she gave me, this year, even though I didn't go back this year. And not to forget the year before, I went out with my friends instead of visiting her.

She told mom that she had backache so this year she made less cookies. But she still remember to save a jar for me.

The ungrateful grand-niece.

Therefore, I have decided to go back next year to visit her again. And eat those butter cookies in front of her.

But for now, every piece of the butter cookies I eat, I will remember her kindness.

I didn't know, that there are actually people out there who remembers my existence. That, made me feel happier than ever.

Now, let me go back to continue watching Bones, while eating the very precious jar of butter cookies.


:: stitched on` ::*|19:42|

:: [0] care[s] ::


Newer›  ‹Older

:: ..it is me.. ::
Ailurophile. Irascible. Desultory. Furtive.


:: ..Type Here.. ::

:: ..pages i stalk.. ::
..queen of mushrooms..
..best page on earth..

:: ..Tick Tock.. :: --------------------------------------

:: ..Calender 2013.. ::


::..Wishes.. ::
~ eternal financial stability, bitch
~ Tokyo solo 2013
~ to Japan, I go for second time!
~ to Japan, I go!
~ Canon G12
~ Superheadz Ultra Wide and Slim!
~ Superheadz Golden Half!
~ new camera!
~ a studio home
~ publish a novel/short stories compilation

:: ..Crédits.. ::
Blog Désign: Michiika
Photo: SuuwaXSupatenshi