shalom

may the new year bring peace joy laughter and love

and courage faithfulness perseverance and grit

may God bring us closer to one another

in regard kindness gentleness and communion!

tellin' it like it is

the captain announces that we will commence descent in 20 minutes and that the seatbelt sign will come on at that point and he trusts that we have enjoyed the flight and tells us a bit about the destination city and ground temperature and thanks us for support and then signs out.

the flight attendant comes on next with a briefer announcement. this is your last chance to go to the loo, he says. he gets full marks for succinct practicality, is wot i say.

au revoir

and so ends our gloriously extravagantly extended visit with J1 Y Ji J2 and A. all the more precious because we have not spent so much time together since it all broke up at the end of their adolescence, perhaps. the days are gentle unforced and just a little bittersweet for their elusiveness. our children are grown, HOM and i tell each other. they are adults now, with their own families. thank God for that! we say with the relief of asian parents. thank God for that! we whisper with the gratitude of modern realists.

friends

back then music CDs. in later years just walking and talking. as before, there are some gifts i am aware of but cannot put into words. as before i am aware this is one of those ineffable indescribable gifts that can only be received with brokenness and joy, to see a father and his son friends.

morimoto (again)

J1 and Y serendipitously attend a wedding in philly and we hitch a ride to morimoto philly just a block down. it's just HOM and me this time, but it is as magical nevertheless for the shared excitement with J1 and J2 and now also with Y and Ji. 

despite marking special occasions in various locations the world over owing to our itinerant family life, it appears morimoto philly remains a firm favorite for celebrations.

glassa joy

 

we sit around a table, J1 Y and us. it is our joy, we tell them, that our children have become their own people. our inestimable privilege and our undeserved blessing. sláinte.

the snowman

either a statement of supreme irony or extreme kitsch.

another christmas

celebrations get more muted by the year.

i blame age-related enervation time-zone differences and a fearsome respiratory tract infection. plus the inexorable realization that the event we celebrate has been hijacked commercialized and transmogrified while the church was sleeping.

yet thankful i am still for the savior who looked beyond my fault and saw my need.

the apple city

HOM and i are back at a favorite place at a favorite time of the year! 

thankful that we are able to visit again. 

polar bear penelope

wheeee we're goin' places! my little stethoscope mascot from J2 which in full disclosure i hereby confess i hustle for unashamedly.

home goods

where, as J2 says, you end up buying what you didn't know you needed.

cuppa joy

we have a cuppa together, HOM J2 and i, with A in tow. how pleasant, i think. to have left the tumultuous years behind and to have reached an understanding as adults. how pleasant to see your daughter grown into such a strong generous kind and loyal adult! my cup is full today.

cognitive dissonance

the glitter the frenzy the carols-on-a-loop the kisses-and-love

and

the bruised reed the smoldering wick (in)justice and pain

seasonal dress

the neighborhood decor is clearly keeping in with tacky, i guess.

day trip! to merced!

we accidentally chance upon the town christmas parade when we visit for lunch. not to mention three separate craft fairs. with a thrift store and a thrift store that calls itself an antique mall (cue <eyeroll>). and just a 50-minute drive away. a distinct improvement on the christmas fair, if you ask me.

34

glad. grateful. amazed. winded.

i would still choose you again!

babysitting

peeing the baby

changing it

talking to the baby

distracting the baby

walking it

looking at the tomatoes

trying out the swing

repeat from top

mealtime

A swimming in puree.

A swimming in chicken fibers.

A swimming in avocado.

A swimming in yogurt.

HOM and i think to ourselves: feeding an infant sure was different back in the day.

advent

the sermon today is about the first christmas all those years ago back when the political situation was oppressive national morale was low and cultural identity was fractured and the child was born who brought a new and different hope.

what do we look forward to at advent today? the speaker asks. good reminder that, i think. time to recall that it's not all black-friday-cyber-monday deals seasonal carols and all that dreamin' of a white christmas stuff. there's also that little (and deep) matter of the fountain that washed away my sins.

i can look forward to the second coming, i think. although that is rather too abstract. what i look towards at christmas is really easter. because of that fountain.

cambria christmas fair

HOM and i and J2 and Ji and A join the hordes gawking at three million little gawdy lights and drinking over-priced hot chocolate and eggnog-from-a-carton. cambria is picturesque cute even if the fair is a little overhyped. the drive takes three hours each way BUT the in-n-out burger fix on the way home is delicious.

festive lights

tacky be the theme this year, methinks.

with thanks

family. friends. (really good food.)

undeserved blessings.

welcome mercies.

it's been a busy year. my cup overflows with gladness.

playthings

A's favorite toy, with toothmarks. it's the cats' pretend bird.

her other favorite toys: the cats' carrot. the cats' fish. the cats' bone.

there is clearly a pattern here.

the cats, on the other hand, are enamored of A's mobile.

unwelcome scene

US airport parking lots always fill me with desolation. much like strip malls with their cookie cutter big box stores. i suspect an amalgamation of E.T. coming-of-age immigrant-written novels (a free life by ha jin) and (quite simply) unimaginative-architecture-meets-overactive-imagination.

LAX

breakfast at 5 AM. because jet lag. this is the land of bacon.

also, inflation is real and painful.

what you are looking for is in the library - aoyama (2023)

gentle restrained prose tossing around rather deep ideas spanning the gamut of ages in five short stories that are actually intertwined in a microcosm of the life the book is about. 

the librarian is this mysterious quasi-yoda character and the five protagonists with their struggles are realistic and likable to boot.

this continues the streak of compelling reads from asian writers.

oops

we excitedly pack for the big trip to visit J1 J2 Yi Ji and A! on the other side of the world! after waiting a whole half year for it! there is something deliciously delightful and gloriously gladsome about putting out the clothes the gifts the toiletries and the emotional support books and stuffing them into the suitcases.

except we forget to put in the cold weather gear as well and have to sheepishly repack.

spotted in the 'eartlands

it looks like them dinky cellphone battery life support networks have arrived on our fair shores. yes!

staycation surprises

for an eleventh hour trip we've certainly had some nice unplanned outcomes.

the most serendipitous being the successful installation (finally) of the VEP tag. unexpectedly and most efficiently.

the side trip to the outlet mall counts too. pleasant interlude from the sudden shower and most productive from a retail therapy viewpoint.

and certainly the impulse extension at a different hotel, just because. 

being of a certain age and being semi-retired have benefits.

(almost) staycating

on the one hand there are bucket lists stars in the eyes and loftily aspirational plans. like the camino de santiago or the green fields of ireland or the west lakes.

on the other hand there is a quick drive across the causeway for a couple days away from the madding crowd. add in the rain and clouds we are having and it feels like a colder season too, only without the layers. just as good for the soul.

if you live to 100 - rhee kun hoo (2014)

restrained self-deprecating down-to-earth and quite devastatingly wise. i may not fully agree with his philosophy of life and fate but that in no way detracts from his incisiveness and charm.

he writes about his life his children his wife his work his days.

of his children, he says that it is more important to live fully as good examples than to try to ace the parenting act that we are amateurs at in any case.

of his wife, he writes a tender paean to the woman who threw in her lot with him and stuck by him through debt imprisonment and more. of one mind, of one heart. about whom else could i ever say that?

of his work, he has poured himself fully and he talks about the satisfaction of doing hard work well, rather than about work-life-balance.

of his days, he says that life is a story you should read till the very last page. how unexpected from an 87-year-old! that is to say, i unabashedly pronounce this a SMASHING READ.

in awe, really

i have started reading the english bible aloud! the 87-year-old woman reports. i look up the words i don't understand and i check their pronunciation. but i skipped the so-and-so begetting so-and-so bits. i am amazed not least because english is her second language.

i made this for you, my 80-year-old patient says. i figured out how to crochet it from youtube videos.

the 93-year-old gentleman hobbles his bent frame into the room. how have you been? i ask. oh he is busy supervising the help at home, his daughter says as he gives me his impishly toothy grin.

when i am your age, i tell them, i want to be like you. on high heels.

taking stock

A has arrived safely and is thriving. HOM's trips have been taken and he is home. his mom's house move is done with, as are the utilities the furniture purchases the TV set-up the roster and much more. O has had her home trip and we have learnt to do housework again. my key tasks are over, namely the three exams. as is my formal life of being employed. the various bodily challenges continue unabated.

the year is exhilaratingly thrillingly and finally winding down. bring it on, thanksgiving!

daisies

O brings these pretty ladies home.

pressing question: do we remove the plastic casing or do we leave it on?

watching the election*

flawed and ineffective

bluster and bluff

untruths and prevarications

sound bites and corporate-speak. particularly corporate speak

glad it wasn't mine to choose. one merely looks on in helpless horrified wonderment.

*2024 US elections

roll call

• my wrist (overuse syndrome)
• HOM's knee (meniscal injury)
• my skin (urticaria going on chronic now)
• J1's shoulder (sprain, i believe), and even
• A's collar bone (healing pretty swiftly, thankfully)

we are looking like a most anatomically energetic family, is wot i say.

purple car

i never saw a purple car

i never hope to own one

but i can tell you anyhow

i'd rather see than own one

change of season

the end of the year has officially started.

reflections on china

• lots of tobacco smoke
• GPS with pinpoint accuracy
• the default volume is broadcast level
• unbelievable service, when they have a mind to it
• toilets sans TP, more's the pity 
• mix of rural and tech

all told, this has been a most enjoyable and smooth trip, i tell HOM. one is cautiously optimistically considering venturing off the urban track for the next foray into the motherland.

clever little hotel girl

the hotel room has a dinky personal assistant that you activate by calling xiaodu, xiaodu!

she is enthusiastic indefatigable and only mildly gets on my nerves with her unsolicited music which irritates after a few seconds. but she is a mine of random information like the weather the news and today-in-communist-history and she is of course perfect for adjusting the temperature and turning the lights on and off.

HOM and i are in discussion to adopt for ourselves a little xiaodu.

suzhou

 

• the train station is milling with people
• streets of old suzhou are picturesque clean and milling with people
• the garden is awesome grand and milling with people
• lots of smokers walking with their ciggies outdoors and indoors 
• limited concept of personal space in elevators and elsewhere
• getting caught in the crossfire of someone else's conversation
• and getting unceremoniously pushed out of someone's way
• oh, and touts at every corner

in a word, crowded.

liu sha bao

gets the award for favorite snack discovery for this trip. chewy melty skin with just enough salty sweet insides to coat the sides with a little bit left over but not so much it drips all over your fingers. it's the cousin to the sophisticated hong kong version but i think i prefer it like this.

fashion victory

i finally master the mechanics of the hair stick.

it occurs to me a whole world of hair accessories opens up directly.

magic

as honeymoon-y a day as it gets, i think. thankful and full.

room with a view

really quite glad for the hotel room this time. there's something about indigenous brands with non-holiday inn vibe that gives you a waft of that magic from your adolescent years when the highlight of the social calendar was a nightcap in a hotel lounge high up over the city.

shanghai day

we awake to wet weather, typically known as bad. strangely this old lady stands bad well. she has a sophistication that rises above the bedraggledness and manages a drenched chic. it helps that we are dry and cocooned in the hotel as we make our alternate plans for the day.

early thoughts about shanghai (day 1)

• the white rabbit is everywhere
• those dinky stations where you can get a battery to charge your device
• QR-coded cashless transactions: quite cool really
• superb mandarin and as melodious as it gets
• but fishwife-level communication otherwise
• aaaand fantastic food (so far)

shanghai, china

i hold two images of china in my head, i tell HOM. there is the mid-century developing nation with leafy trees in dingy neighborhoods and drab-bish blue-clad middle-aged folk practicing taichi and wolfing down noodles on rickety tables before going to work in communal factories, courtesy of an amalgam of lu hsun's short stories and PRC docu-movies of the seventies. and then there is the high rise mega city with eight-lane highways electric cars state-of-the-art amenities and effortless elegance and sophistication, as if the bund leapfrogged into the new century without any intermediate squalor.

it is quite delightful to be able to integrate both images today.

time for change

lovely time of the year when sunsets get more dramatic and nights get cooler. (of which sunsets this is but a washed out example.)

retreat in JB 2

pampered individual with picky palate reflecting on the ideal hotel breakfast buffet spread:

• coffee machine coffee. none of that drip stuff please
• an egg station with runny yolk cooked whites sunny-side up to order
• a selection of hard and soft cheeses and not the kraft cheese slices!
• add smoked salmon and a girl is in breakfast heaven

retreat in JB

reflecting on hotels, specifically hotel bathrooms:

• forget the bathtub, gimme a good-sized shower stall
• with a powerful shower and hot water on tap
• AND a kerb that stops the shower water from flowing out
• with a shower stall door that slides or opens inwards
• and the towel rack within convenient reach 

holiday inn city centre certainly ticks all the boxes. with din tai fung next door. this is quickly becoming my favorite hotel for HOM to have meetings in so that i can be the trailing spouse at.

gratitude

we attend J2's exit seminar as her PhD journey nears its end. 

i don't pay too much attention to the details because i am busy being impressed by the slides and her style and my thoughts. my baby, i think. that little urchin who shared her fishballs with me. that girl who became a teenager at eight. her own woman today, generous able and strong.

that cup is full to overflowing. may your deeds be shown to your servants, your splendor to their children.

ming yue

third visit to attempt purchase. first success. 10 packets of your peanut candy please, we murmur. 

word-of-mouth hype meets masterful queue management becomes legend.

middle-aged date

roof top bar on a rainy night. panoramic ipoh skyline, the tag says. 

but it's raining so the doors to the outside are locked.

rest

after the church i wander into the attached cemetery which turns out to be a fully cemented patch of monochromatic headstones and lots crammed together. yet it is a place of repose and cool breeze under an overcast sky and i see chinese characters roman numerals and tamil script beautifully and egalitarianly juxtaposed. this is the malaysia of my childhood. tanah pusaka berbagai bangsa di dalamnya.

though a great world removed from the gaudy chinese cemetery of my childhood which is responsible for many adolescent nightmares and much PTSD.

exciting sighting

if you look very carefully amongst the zinnias there is a special buzzing being that i initially think is a large bee but is actually a hummingbird!!! in the tropics!!!

2024 is shaping up to be the year of the hummingbird.

a pause

i wander into a catholic church on a saturday morning. the caretaker hustles his dog away so i can enter. the church is cavernous quiet and welcoming. i spend a time in stillness with the sound of the flowing water for company.

it is a pity that protestant churches with our energetic outreach strategies do not open our churches for personal meditation on days that are not sundays. also a pity that modern buildings are somehow more utilitarian than contemplative.

insta pot

unboxing ourselves into the modern age.

drywood termite

the young man who shows up is very kind. we usually advise you to dispose of the piece once we see wings, he explains. buang, HOM translates for me. there goes a beloved secretary. the inside shelved piece is discarded. i sincerely hope the rest of it remains free of that white sandy stuff.

getting from A to B

the trains are out today so i take the bus to work.

one word to describe it all.

sardine.

reflections on kosuke kindaichi

to clarify, these are my reflections on the translated kindaichi books:

• convoluted plots galore with firm commitment to satisfying if somewhat far-fetched denouements
• and (from my reading so far, limited by availability of translations) fresh revelations to the very end
• surprisingly up-to-date themes, for stuff written in the middle of the last century: premarital sex same-sex sex twisted sex... you get my drift
• unfortunately under-developed emotions on the part of the detectives, who barely feel anything other than rage or irritation or shock or great distress. exhausting, is wot i say. perhaps some nuances were lost in translation

but generally satisfying in a very fair-play sense.

complete the sentence

you know it's been a long day when...

...you look at the dog pooping on the concrete floor in the dark and think to yourself what a strange place to poop at and the little boy stands up from his squatting posture.

laundry day

today i do a load of laundry in the machines. because O is home on her vacation and we are dangerously low on undies. here are some life reflections:

• standards are adjustable. our current is driven by underwear inventory
• i'll only iron over the weekend is a sound time management concept, only bettered by
• i may not need to iron this, really
• wool dryer balls are a game changer in terms of static generated and time needed

the hen who dreamed she could fly - sun-mi hwang (2000)

coming-of-age fable for parents especially mothers which manages to avoid self-pitiful tropes whilst dealing with trope-heavy issues like the young flying the coop. i really like that sprout is feistily living life on her own terms and not focusing on the pain and sorrow but on the present and the enjoyable instead. the illustrations incidentally are delightful.

asian writers

it's been a good series of really pleasant reads by east asian writers translated in to english. starting with private detective kindaichi and discovering the hyunam-dong bookshop and then the kamogawa detectives. not to mention the hen who is trying to fly, which i am halfway through.

what i like so much, i think, is the light touch with the language. the sentences are not heavy and convoluted even when the ideas are. indeed, as with the most artful asian discourse, there is much that is imagined within an essay that is pitched at middle school reading level. 

and also the innate restraint and courtesy of the current selections. very much more persuasion* than bridgertons!

*still my all-time favorite novel

the kamogawa food detectives - hisashi kashiwai (2023, translated)

what a delightful collection of intriguing and delicious vignettes! oishi!

dinner for one

quite pleasant really to walk into the eatery and hold up one finger and then to settle in to order my favorites and read my book and enjoy the food. i need to do this more often.

how to be perfect - michael schur (2022)

 

exhilarating romp through some key concepts in western moral philosophy. it reads like a tongue-in-cheek primer but he still manages to cover some really tough topics and of course i feel well read and clever now but certainly it will quickly drop out again soon. a bit like revising neuroanatomy.

he covers virtue utilitarianism deontology contractualism pragmatism and even existentialism. with a gut puncher chapter on saying sorry and the difference between a real sorry and bullshit.

eudaimonia in a nutshell.

he giveth more grace

when we have exhausted our store of endurance - when our strength has failed ere the day is half done - when we reach the end of our hoarded resources...

slowly emerging from the recent distress* and today i gingerly test my memories and find they are less painful. the toothache is less sharply tender.

*relating to HOM's trip

thoughts from 2 Kings 4:8-37

the shunamite woman rebukes me with her generosity of spirit and purse even as i am supremely unimpressed by her husband who, when his son is taken desperately ill, only has this to say, take him to his mother. 

how is it that a (seemingly) discerning gracious and contented person is shackled with a clod like that?

how does a woman become/remain discerning gracious and contented living with a clod like this?

what pain she must endure to be so much and to live with so little.

uncharitable reflections

my pet peeves, riding in a taxicab:

• drivers who want to chit chat with me (i'm sorry. i prefer not to talk)
• drivers with a hand on the wheel and the other on their cellphone (is it alright if you do not text and drive please?)
• the radio on a local chinese channel (usually over-energetic d.j. interviewing well-meaning earnest opinionated members of the public)
• the radio on a local english channel (usually smooth-sounding d.j. with fake western accent rambling on about an inconsequential topic)
• air fresheners (usually cloyingly pervasive if present), or
• the aroma of oil of wintergreen (previous passenger's or - horrors - driver's)

gimme a taciturn and masked driver with accurate google map directions and no penchant for fragrance. even better if he looks normal and dresses in business casual.

welcome to the hyunam-dong bookshop - hwang bo-reum (2023, translated)

the author says, i wanted to write what i want to read. she has written a delightful and charming book!

this is a gentle and courteous story about ordinary people seeking to be better versions of themselves. her style is sedate and proper but her pacing is quite masterful. i find myself interrupted by life but scuttling back to the warm embrace of the book.

that's not to say it is perfect. that a new bookstore is able to support 3-and-a-half employees within five years of life is a little unbelievable. as is the very existence of such a cocooned enclave as forms the magic of this book. 

i like that the relationship with the mother is not resolved. one gets tired of neat tidy resolutions when clearly these often do not happen in real life.

this has been a lovely interlude with a really pleasurable read.