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Brook ElaineEmail:Matt5verse6@yahoo.com, Matt5verse6@gmail.comFaith Hope LoveChapter Seven1My first experience cooking with gas was in Singapore. Our “L” shaped, outdoorkitchen was striking and what I would expect in a cabana on a tropical island in alocation like the Whit Sundays…where the water is a clear, radiant blue;champagne is served like juice or soft drinks; and fine dining occurs under a vastblanket of stars.Being I never really learned how to cook, I refrained from using the gas rangeoften. One time, I distinctly remember lowering my face to watch as I tried tolight the flame. Needless to say I walked away with singed eyelashes on my lefteye and was fortunate I did not loose my eyebrows.I was asked to Christmas dinner with some others whose friendship I enjoy.Cocktail dress or formal gowns were required. Thirty minutes before washing Ihad to remember to flip the switch outside the bathroom to heat the water. Such atiny toggle for a fairly important job. Well, essential to me anyway, I did notfavor cold showers. (Infact, I would rather stink than bathe in frigid water.)Tonight I remembered. I put on a velvety, maroon, sleeveless number, black nylon stockings, and heels. With my hair swept into a graceful do and clutchunder my arm I was ready for an evening of sophisticated dining. I spritzed a bitof my favorite perfume on my neck before leaving and left a trail of fragrantfruity flowers behind me. We headed to an expensive restaurant with asensational view as that of birds.Seated in an alcove booth we could look out the picturesque windows and see formiles. The scenery was breathtaking. The city radiated with a glowing vibebelow us. We were on top of the world. Spirits were high as we browsed themenu. Fifty dollars for a salad and appetizer and one hundred dollars purchased adinner plate with portions so small they barely filled me up. I would most likelyeat again later. But I felt it was worth every penny. I was in great company andwe laughed and posed for pictures with each other after our meal. The place wasdeserted as we went from one location to the next for each photo…by the vase, onthe stairs, near the bouquet…each change of surroundings warranted a swappingout of people. (This was before digital cameras so I am not sure how many rollsof film we went through that night.)--------------------------------Before I went out some mornings I walked across the street to a little hole-in-the-wall place where I got my photographs processed. By the end of my five monthstay in Singapore I had enough prints to fill an oversized album (that was ratherdifficult for me to transport). There were hundreds of portraits of people,
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