Time is always not on my side these couple of weeks—and it won’t be letting up anytime soon, as I’ve got another issue of a magazine to wrap up by early December. I’ve got some things to share, and a story at the end of this post if you’re interested. It’s a spooky one. ;)

The apology
And as many may know, I’m quite terrible with keeping track of things. Like Soo Mei’s birthday—which I horribly forgot, which fell on 3rd November. (It’s not you dearie, it’s me—I’m terrible at dates!) I forget almost everyone’s birthdays, because time is a blur to me sometimes.

Bric.A.Brac

And I forgot to mention that Lynn has a new blog! Her new patterns are up too, and my favourites are the robots and the twee sewing men.

Spooky encounter of the highland kind

I also had a spooky encounter when I went up a highland resort last week to review the place. I stayed at this Japanese inn deep in the forest, and it was a double storey villa.

The villa was split into two levels, and the top level was where people usually entered. Now, the main room was usually where guests slept, but because it was also a dining area, we (my photographer and I) chose to sleep at the bottom segment of the villa (so as not to convert the dining area to a bedroom, etc.)

Well, turned out it was a bad idea. When it was late, we went downstairs and watched TV a little more, and then retired to bed.

When I was just about to nod off, I felt one of my shoulder twitch (I sleep on my side, so the shoulder that was not resting on the futon was the one twitching). I thought it was just one of those bedtime ticks that happens when you’re semi-conscious.

And then it happened again. Just when I was about to nod off.

Annoyed, I pulled a sheet over my eyes and tried to sleep again.

And it happened again. The twitch (which now felt more to me like a push).

I wasn’t scared. No siree. I was hopping mad. But only because I was tired and I couldn’t believe my luck at having ticks in the middle of the night (I think I was trying to not be scared).

Super irritated and by this time wide awake, I turned on this light above my head (the one that has a pull-string), and proceeded to read a book. After half an hour (this was at 2.30am), I turned off the light and went to sleep—without much incident.

I woke up the next morning, and what did I see?

The light above my futon, alight.

Turns out my photographer didn’t sleep a wink either. And we didn’t want to scare each other, so we kept quiet. If we both talked about it, I think we would have just hot-footed it out of there in the dead of the night.

And sleeping at the bottom portion of the house? Not a good idea. Sunlight rarely penetrated into the villa there and I was stupid for choosing that place to sleep anyway.

Suffice to say, I’m never going back there again.