February Again

It's that month of the year again.

February has always been a 'feverish' time for me, though not in the way that Trebuchet sees it. Three events usually take place in this month that are particularly significant to me, so I find myself swinging between excitment and exhaustion:

Firstly, there is that small matter of the New Year. While I am not the sort of fellow who plays on my ethnicity, I am proud to be Chinese, and I have a smattering of knowledge regarding the history, customs and traditions (good and bad) of my people. So when this time of the year comes around, I put in a bit of effort into the necessary preparations.

Indeed, during my recent trip to the Pearl River Delta, I actually took the trouble to take a short hop over to Hong Kong, to purchase goose liver sausages from Yung Kei, a old establishment (60+ years in the business) that specialises in such items. I have no doubt that my family shall enjoy them. With the exception of the missus, who thinks the stuff too fattening and the flavours too intense.

My daughter, of course, sees CNY as a time of ang paos and indiscriminate snacking. Not to mention, dressing in new clothes. Her kindergarten has been organizing ethnic dress days for the major holidays, and I have always taken pains to dress the little one in cute dresses. The ao dai episode two years ago was somewhat unusual, since she insisted on wearing jeans rather than the traditional trousers. The cheongsam last year was a success however, and her grandparents had cooed over how adorable she looked.

This year, I decided to dress the daughter in a kebaya sulam. That's the peranakan outfit with the translucent, laced blouse and the colourful sarong. Since my wife is nonya, her mother clearly approved of my choice. My own mother was also tickled by how my daughter looked. I shall have to take many photographs this year, it seems.

CNY this year coincides with Valentine's Day. Which may be good or bad, depending on how one regards that extremely commercialized event. I shall endeavour to do something for the missus, of course. Though I fear that it may well be overshadowed by the other celebration. Perhaps a good seafood dinner ...

Lastly, February is also the month of my birth. I shall be 44 this year. A little inauspicious, the number, so I am a trifle cautious of bad luck this coming year of the Tiger. But fortunetellers and horoscopes claim otherwise. I guess we shall see what we shall see.

Still, another year older. That is something to contemplate.