her paternal grandparents' house stood at the foot of mount ophir, by a river with cold cold water from the mountain.
she remembered once while bathing there she saw a buffalo doing the same downstream!
every morning her grandfather would bring her a handful of dew covered oranges from his farm. they tasted so fresh and sweet .
and sometimes lunch would have fried tiny mushrooms which grew abundantly on nearby hillsides. fried fish, asam pedas, blanched tapioca shoots and sambal......eaten with steaming rice on the verandah in the late afternoons in pleasant company .......
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