early on new year’s day, my aunt telephoned me and said, “eh, it’s going to be 41° today. you’d better come over and sit in my aircon.” except it wasn’t 41°; it was 44°. no wait, 45°.

in her shiny new white kitchen, we made ice kacang. just a basic selection of hidden treasures — grass jelly, sweetcorn kernels, kidney beans, atap chee, preserved jackfruit — beneath a mound of shaved ice drizzled (or drenched, as the case may be) in evaporated milk and gula melaka. there would have been rose syrup too, but the mantra i’d been chanting to myself all morning (“remember to bring the rose syrup. remember to bring the rose syrup”) had been instantly forgotten when it came time to load bag of toys, bag of nappies and eating gear, bag of extra clothes, car seat, baby seat and baby into the car.

due to my aunt’s persuasive nature and cooking prowess, we ended up staying the night, and then another night, and had the spare clothes and nappies not run out and a print deadline not been pressing up against my forehead, i’m sure there would have been a third night as well.

which is just as well, because stepping back into the apartment on tuesday morning, we were engulfed in a rather fruity odour. yes, so sunday i hadn’t taken out the garbage because i thought we’d be back later that afternoon. i will not make any such assumptions again, because a very hot day followed by a very wet day turns your ordinary bag of kitchen scraps into a pile of wriggly little maggots.