In this pic, she's giving me some ginseng slices to cook together with those two pieces of precious bird saliva. I'm extremely touched. But she should know that I've always HATED ginseng.

Perhaps she meant this blessing for Stickman.

While waiting for Stickman to come home, I cooked a dish. I call it "Unless-the-Lord-builds-the-house-those-who-build-it-labour-in-vain. Psalm 127:1"

See the collapsed toufu slabs at the centre of the mushroom boulders overgrown with doumiao weeds? Some red qizi adds realism as dried blood of some poor squashed builder.

I know - I'm sick. It's this stupid weather and plus some thoughts that I should not be entertaining. Sigh.