Kumquats and Superstition

This year's kumquat bushes "retired" to our back yard.  (see below...)

Are you superstitious?  I bet you are.  Most people are, even Richard Dawkins.  I make sure that I follow Chinese superstitions, like loving the numbers 8 or 9 and hating the number 4.  "Eight" is especially auspicious because it's a homonym for "wealth".  "Nine" is a homonym for "long life".  "Four" is no good cause it also sounds like "death".  [Click on "Read more" below for rest of Post]
I used to have no problem adding four of anything to a dish I was cooking.  But after many years here in Hong Kong, I found I couldn't any longer.  I couldn't put four cloves of garlic in a dish, for example.  Which is kind of annoying, cause 4 is often exactly the right number: five seems a touch too "metric", three's too few and 6 is just getting on for too many....
But, hey! I conquered this superstition in the last year, by a trick.  I don't add "four" cloves.  I add "two".  Then, I add another two!  So, it's "two" and "another two". (so, it's not really four, see).
Which reminds me of the "Blackadder" opening of the episode "Head", which I'm sure Jane and Anna will recall, as does John.

Blackadder teaching Baldric how to add, using beans. [Remember Baldric?  He's the one famous for his "cunning plans"...]: 

Blackadder: Right, Baldric, let's try one more time, shall we?  This is called "adding". I take two beans and I add two more beans.  How many beans do I have?

Baldric: Three.

Blackadder: What??

Baldric: [pointing] And that one.

Blackadder: Right, so if I take these three beans and add one more bean, what does that make?

Baldric: a very small casserole.

(I'm quoting this by memory, mind, so don't hold me to the exact words...)

What this means is that I could, if I wanted, also count cloves of garlic in Baldric's way: that is, put in three cloves.  And then add another one.

This all relates to the number of Kumquat bushes we have in the house.  Every Chinese New Year Kumquat bushes pop up all over Hong Kong, mainly imported from Guangdong. It's a Chinese New Year thing.  Kumquat are a homonym for "great wealth" or some such.  In any case, they're very nice to have around, and we buy in new ones every year.  Over the CNY period you're supposed to put one on each side of your front door.  Usually, then, that's two bushes.  Fine.  But we have two front doors, so that means "FOUR".  Yikes!

But I got over it, by the very simple -- the very cunning -- "garlic clove method", aka, the Baldric counting method. I told myself -- and Jing and Arlene, who were a touch, but just a touch, concerned at having four -- that I'd bought Two, then another two. (I could've said "we got three bushes... and that one.")

About the "retired" in the caption above: these are the plants that were in the front of the house, welcoming guests during the CNY period, one on each side of the doors, and now "retired" to the backyard.  When they're getting on a bit more, I'll harvest the fruit and make (a) some marmalade and (b) some more Kumquat Brandy.  Mutti can confirm that my Kumquat Brandy [*] is very nice, and anyone passing through Casa Forsythe/Lee must ask for some!

BTW: the whole "lucky number eight" thing was thrown a rather curly one: it was about August (the eighth month) of '08 that the Global Financial Crisis started roiling.  And for us, it was on 8/8 last year that we bumped our boat into a rock.  So it's a bunch of crock, really.  Still, doesn't harm to follow, does it?.....

The birds love eating kumquats and I'm happy to watch them doing that.
What's left I'll turn to marmalade and kumquat brandy

PS: I just noticed that the photo at the top has a bit of carpet in the corner. That's one I just put outside from the 'music room', used by Nikki as her favourite sleeping rug.  It was getting a bit "doggie", so I put it out in the lovely sun we have today (13 Feb)-- clear and 23 degrees.  We're just about to head off on a mountain walk with Marcus the Weimaraner.
[*] Simple Kumquat Brandy recipe: par-slice the kumquats, several slices for each, not all way through; equal amounts sugar and brandy in a saucepan, warmed up to dissolve the sugar.  Put in jar with the kumquats filled up to the brim.  Seal and put away in a dark cupboard for five years.  Or till a rellie or friend appears and demands some...