calvary

1. sullied stained deformed and fractured 
2. purchased redeemed cleansed and now whole
3. 
   
4. so easy to receive for myself
5. so difficult to extend to another!

palm sunday

1. spirit of God, descend upon my heart. wean it from earth; through all its pulses move. stoop to my weakness, mighty as thou art! and make me love thee as i ought to love.
2. 
   
3. i ask no dream: no prophet ecstasies, no sudden rending of the veil of clay, no angel visitant, no opening skies. but take the dimness of my soul away. 

the swedish art of aging exuberantly - margareta magnusson (2022)

this is mostly a collection of essays on life from the perspective of great age written with disarming superficial simplicity so that it reads lighter than oliver sacks' gratitude but is as bijou a book as the other.

not as good as her first book perhaps but still the same spell-binding chattiness.

she shares two pearls i relate fully to: take care of what hair you have (left), and eat chocolate.

good things

not being a rabid nature-lover, here are things that delight even a philistine:

• the smell of outdoors when the rain first starts
• also when snowflakes just begin falling
• being snugged up indoors with hot soup while it storms outside
• and being snugged up indoors with the snow falling outside
• being outside before the rain with ominous skies and the winds in your face
• being outside with that lovely nip in the autumn air
• and nothing beats the joyous riot of a field of wildflowers in spring

there is a pattern here. i don't seem to like summer except indoors with air conditioning.

spring cleaning

on account of being confined because of zoster and of being home alone and of suddenly experiencing an unseasonal attack of energy, i:

• clear out the junk cupboard and put up years of unsolicited samples / souvenirs / empty boxes for onward donation 
• clear out the bookcases and discard several years' worth of antediluvian insurance tax and travel documents 
• clear out the stationery baskets and discover many more unsolicited goodwill products, similarly directed for onward donation

at the end of which the junk cupboard the bookcases and the stationery baskets look as solidly immutable as ever and i retire to bed for a much deserved nap. so much for döstädning.

shingles 2

it occurs to me the time-honored classical description of zoster pain as being dermatomal may have been authored by someone not actually experiencing zoster in the first-hand up-close-and-personal sense.

a personal encounter with zoster will tell you that the pain involves that whole half of the body containing the offending dermatome and is not in any way as civilized and contained as being confined to the dermatome alone. or even the next dermatome. no siree. the pain sadly engulfs the entire half body, freely co-opting neck and limb and other uninvolved anatomical parts. it would cross the midline if it could, i tell you.

in other news, this is day 2-and-a-half of acyclovir and the damn vesicles are still going strong.

my visit to the coffee-shop

what i notice from random furtive glances at various passers-by's cellphone screens is that the top 3 preoccupations of middle-aged-looking people in public when they are scrolling their phone are:

• the stock market
• flight schedules
• text messages (in giant font)

84, charing cross road - helene hanff (1970)

witty self-deprecating charm bundled with all-round goodwill generosity and welcome served on a series of epistles and garnished with the passage of time and history.

luvverly re-visit.

helene hanff is really a refreshingly agreeable writer.

shingles

not the one over the door.

the one that is a dainty cluster of vesicles on a discreet part of the body from which emanates waves of gut-wrenching pain, is wot. owwwwwhhhhhh.

in other news, thank God it's now and not earlier (traveling) or later (traveling). although HOM has to go and ask, why didn't you get the vaccine? fear of needles, that's why.

little idiot (note to self)

having just irretrievably dispatched down the rubbish chute the activation QR code of the new continuous glucose monitoring kit that i buy at a huge discount i am now bereft of the toy i planned to test and am newly committed to a second kit at a smaller discount and thereby negating any discount to begin with. the new technology had better be worth it. 

< cue ominous murmurings much head banging and dark looks at self >

taking stock

xiamen jb (and jb and jb and jb) kyushu xiamen (again) earthquakes fires and storms and monsoon surges illness and infirmity (stalwart companions) politickings and chicanery (robust perennials, these two) meetings and farewells and most lately the bloodbath in the wall street 'hood.  periodically featuring people, some uninvited.

it's enough to put a girl off the rest of the year.

or make her ask bemusedly, where did the first quarter go?

time off

solo ideas for april, the little poster says, and suggests a visit to my favorite coffee shop (great thought!) a trip to the museum (yes! been some time) a walk in the park (that too) or a meal al fresco (until reality sinks in certainly).

here is lunch al fresco (as close as it can comfortably get without breaking into sweat) pour un.

requiem 2

the obituary* comes out. it makes it real now.

i am still too shocked to weep. 

*CPY, who in so many ways was larger than life and showed me what collegiality collaboration camaraderie and friendship can be between otherwise unconnected professionals.

tunch

otherwise tea-lunch.

nice surrounds* decent jazz disappointing grub.

*commune on zhongshan road

bullet train

very smooth ride 3:20-hour-ride from tai ning to xiamen punctuated for 3 hours by the enthusiastic snores of a fellow traveller. shades of sleep apnea, i tell you.

the duchess of bloomsbury street - helene hanff (1973)

sequel-commentary-new book to 84, charing cross street which i must now go read again. written in diary form and in a chatty tone with punches of guileless wit. charming feel-good good-read book much like a slice of almond butter cake with café au lait for tea break, which is to say it is gently heartily satisfying and i must be missing my cakes after three weeks of japanese and chinese fare.

requiem

shocking news as we travel.

sudden departure on vacation. my teacher and my friend. 

too soon. we meant to catch up soon.

giving up the ghost

the quickest way to frighten off a group of middle-aged tourists is to give them their money's worth of outdoor tour attractions on a rainy day at 8 degrees celsius after which there is every chance they will decide to cancel the next day's attractions and hare it out of the county on an earlier train.*

this brings to mind c. northcote parkinson's suggestion of an overdose of exhausting air travel as a strategy to persuade the senior civil servant voluntarily retire.

*3 national parks and a cruise then another national park and a museum, in addition to 2 full meals, all in 1 day.

muwei hotel, tai ning

owing to sudden drop in temperature to freezing and our unfamiliarity with the air-conditioner/heater set-up the warmest thing in the hotel room now is the heated toilet seat and it is looking very compelling as a place of repose.

work in progress

my (cautiously vouchsafed) (politically incorrect) grouses about the (ethnic) motherland in this age of inclusivity and mutual encouragement:

• idiot smokers who can read (because a nation of super sharp streetwise folk backed up by thousands of years of culture clearly can read 🚭) but cannot make the cognitive jump to understand that IT APPLIES TO THEM and therefore destroy the peace the view the atmosphere their natural parks never mind their lungs with the pervasive clouds of tobacco, and
• the toilet situation (although this is improving in the big cities and i am grateful and certainly paper is more often provided than in some other countries) mostly because the public loos are usually wet and so strongly scented with ammonia that you are grateful the lighting isn't any better at the most pungent of them 

those are the main gripes. perhaps augmented by the fact that we fly in from fukuoka.

• a (minor because this is subjective and obviously an entire nation cannot be too wrong, right) gripe about the default decibel of conversational voice which is maximum and the default tone of conversation which is combative so that venturing into public is like going to war

laundry room*

fortunately i aim my google lens on this helpful sign just before i attempt to start my laundry. the translation is i am a dryer! except WHO stacks all the washers on one wall of the laundry room and all the dryers on the far opposite wall and not provide baskets for transportation? clearly someone who does not usually do their own laundry, is who.

*moonyo hotel, wuyishan

moonyo hotel, wuyishan

lovely architecture and interior design, just lacking in the final mile: 

tobacco smoke in-your-face-in your-nose indoors outdoors and lingering on the non-smoking floor and in the non-smoking room - the washers all stacked on a wall way opposite the dryers all stacked on the other wall (you will understand this gripe only if you do laundry yourself) - no hooks or racks for towels in the rooms - quite clearly uncleaned bits of room, like oil marks on the table - charging port heats up so much you can cook an egg on it - minimal signages to gym laundromat and deck. 

that the artwork is askew appears to be emblematic.

reverse neologisms

time was when chinese transliterated their company names from others, like this.

but these days they start in chinese and transliterate to english. the times they are a-changin'.

a place like home - rosamunde pilcher (2021)

anodyne with no adverse effects beyond a mild irritation, i suppose. 

certainly not what i expect from the effusive reviews although i am not entirely certain what exactly i expect. perhaps a little less placid predictability. also, i find the extreme youthfulness of the female protagonists to be borderline disturbing, although i acknowledge this is par for the course for those days of tall dark masterful males and sweetly attractive females before even mills & boons became harlequin.

i shall shelve pilcher with debbie macomber. good for when one is jaded tired and just needs some undemanding diversion for the eyes.

qulistar hotel, zhongshan lu

• strange quasi-western name, until i realize the quli is hanyu pinyin
• nice new rooms with mod cons
• with very able front desk and assorted staff
• and the mod cons are not too shabby either (meaning to say, better than disposable)
• although the bathroom sink is located in the bedroom itself (creative workaround the space constraint, if you ask me, but i believe purists shudder)
• most unfortunately, clouds of tobacco smoke fill the air indoors outdoors and in between
• and the dryers in the self-laundry are the energy saving good-for-the-environment sump type which results in me bonding much with the laundry set this morning and writing multiple blog posts
• also, the lady in charge of breakfast is a most fiercely strident brigadier who strikes fear into the hearts of staff and diners alike although i am sure she has a humanly beating heart just like us
• but it's the tobacco smoke that kills the stay

skin-of-our-teeth experience

we almost (almost) miss the flight, owing to several facts:

• HOM reads the departure time of 18:15 as 8:15 
• i trust HOM to have read the correct time and do not myself read it
• we plan to take the train at 5 P.M. for the airport
• but we finish tea a tad early and catch the 4:30 train instead
• then the airport shuttle happens to be just about to leave so we hop on it
• and arrive at the airport early (we thunk)
• where they report times in A.M. and P.M. instead of 24-hours
• and it says 6:15 (at which point a slowly growing horror sets in)

on the bright side, we compete with no other passengers because they all presumably read time in 24 hours and 12 hours. 

it is of the LORD's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not.

new milestone

full day of traveling yesterday and the ol' iphone battery went from 90% to 27% following a day of weather checks travel checks e-book consumption squaredle playing google translate google map and general google use resulting in several hours of nail-biting anxiety over the final few percentage points of the battery life before we finally hit the hotel in the wee hours of the morning. cue great relief and much maternal pride.

the old iphone would have given up the ghost at the dinner-time mark.

old friend

the ubiquitous welcoming face of modern china to shallow capitalist coffee-lover me.

from fukuoka to xiamen

bit o' shock to the system, to be honest. key points of interest, in no particular order:

• forget using the wifi, ye yokels of the westernized world
• there's aural olfactory and visual assault, after the polite restraint of the japanese
• the smokers! the smokers!
• and the toilet seats are stone stone cold, more's the pity
• it's all grimier and grittier than where we were just a day ago

BUT:

• the hotel room's much bigger
• and they provide free self-laundry (much ❤️)
• we have didi on tap
• and e-money works again (big whew)
• it may be grittier but the efficiency gives you a run for your money

best of all, we are back in the home time zone!

almost over

leaving tomorrow, and most grateful for this luvverly interlude, and particularly for (in random order):

onsen - heated toilet seats - extreme road courtesy - google translate - onsen eggs - meiji chocolates - instant hot water - hotel-supplied yukata - kaiseki meals - minimalist wood-predominant esthetics - (apparently) effortless wabi-sabi - anticipated needs

aya suspension bridge

awesome majestic magnificent

makes my legs watery and my bladder nervous.

not to mention the hike up the mountain slope at the other end

wickedly steep for dabblers like me:

i make it up to the shrine by dint of of HOM's nagging.

i make it down by mercy of HOM's hand-holding.

road trip* reminiscences

as we wrap up the trip it occurs to me:

• there are differing travel objectives: food sights experiences shoppin' chillin' FOMO
• and differing travel styles: minimizer maximizer borrower make-doer buyer
• also differing social preferences: grooooouuuuup activities vs please gimme some quiet
• and differing states of consciousness relating to travel objectives personal styles and enthusiasm 
• the ideal group size is probably two or four

*referring to the trip around kyushu island that started as for-two then for-four then ballooned to twelve.

we'll prescribe you a cat - syou ishida (translation, 2024)

charming and whimsical and light with pockets of profoundness packed into a string of interconnected short stories and a rather unexpected twist at the end. (well, it is unexpected to me because i am just flowing with the stories and wondering if we should get a cat too.)

i am now waiting eagerly for the sequel, expected in autumn.

the japanese washroom

everything i love about the washroom:

• it is spotless
• and usually white (or a nice neutral monochrome)
• there's that helpful ledge at the side for your incidentals
• the seat is heated (yassssss)
• with a nifty sinklet for after your ablutions

i could do without the masking sound effects that kick in when you sit down though. 

bonus!

sudden snowfall overnight makes it all a winter wonderland this morning. it brings back memories of clearing the car of its coat of icy ash back in virginia and it leads to some driving challenges and the detour we take BUT this is the surprise snow i thought i would not see this year, to us on a beautiful platter.

mt. aso

we drive up to mount aso but forget to check the logistic details beyond the driving directions. which is how we end up in -2 degrees C in our spring weather gear. 

spotted on the road . . .

... a moped i might ride. the poetic cousin to the smart fortwo, if you ask me.

new gaea, kumato, kumamoto

with every amenity but rather flimsily so. 

the room is modestly (if nicely) proportioned. you collect your toothbrush from a stand near the entrance door. the duvet cover feels like a disposable tablecloth. the pillow is an ultra-light piece of foam that nevertheless succeeds in giving a neck ache. the bedroom slippers are diaphanous pieces of tissue. 

BUT.

the en suite bathroom is a mini onsen-like set-up that makes up for everything above. 

that, and the stable broadband connection.

girl's guide to the good life

hot spring bath. cold weather. scenery for the soul. with nary another soul.

room with a (magnificent) view

worth the harrowing drive up that mountain road with the ridiculous number of hairpin bends. 

deeply grateful.

atomic bomb museum

after losing everything

i stand holding

four atomic bomb death certificates.

- atsuyuki matsuo

back to basics 2

how can anything so simple and simply bought from a convenience store taste so gooooood?

back to basics

 

pre-prepped food in japan is at a different level of competence altogether. of which this repast is a barely representative sample.

luke plaza hotel, mt inasa, nagasaki

 

a grand piano in the lounge that has a clear plastic guard over the keys and instructions not to touch. audrey hepburn's portrait in the lift lobby. real keys that turn in the lock. faded chic meets japanese standards of housekeeping. but the view! the jewels sparkle gloriously in the night.

this hotel stay is the bucket list item i did not know i had. 

break time

delightful weather oishi cuisine walkable city convivial company and rather fewer smokers on the road than i seem to recall. glad to be back in the country and in a new place.

and most glad to have heated toilet seats again. you can have wonderful scenery an' all. i'm not saying i don't appreciate that. but there is magic to a heated seat on a cold day.

amazing grace adams - fran littlewood (2023)

not, as i mistakenly expect, frothy escapade material but marian keyes-esque for the serious issues it covers but at a rather painfully dragged out pace.

i give up at the 61% mark and skip to the ending to read backwards.

10/10 for courage in tackling tough topics.

6/10 for writing in the du jour back-and-forth-in-time style which i first enjoy in lucy foley's the guest list but which is now borderline passé.

overuse syndrome

since july last year, i believe. today the piano plays beautifully! 

the tightness remains on forced extension. it feels wonderful to be (almost) free again.

- ps. 103:2-3

my kinda shape

off-center asymmetrical unbalanced restrained chaos.

my new salad bowl.

by sun and candlelight

 

or by wine and scallop, as the case may be.

sudden light

 sitting in the food court

HOM and i look at the next table

clearly retirees, with grey hair practical clothes and safe sneakers

talking about health challenges neighbors' kids and the chicken and fish curry

and it occurs to me they look at us and see 

two of the same.

gratus

the man's birthday cake, admittedly a tad late. it occurs to me that for some time now we have spent more birthdays with each other than without and we are at the age when the youngsters look at us as the grizzlies. even though we feel as young as we did back in the day only wiser (even though we felt wise back then). even to your old age i am he, and to gray hairs i will carry you. and so he has.

lovely chocolate cake, incidentally. i am telling HOM his project is to better it.

from third world to first - lee kuan yew (2000)

WHOA.

insider account of the early years of the nation and our neighbors followed by a sweeping geopolitical analysis of the key nations we have contact with delivered with unapologetic confidence. not to mention delicious tidbits about nations and politicians delivered without care for political correctness.

refreshing (finally a non-US-centric account of history!) and satisfying (the man has memories and he doesn't censor them) and most enlightening. also, it gives you a (curated) glimpse of the man behind the bulldog.

i just wish someone would write a similar account of 2000 to 2025.

...we knew little about... how to solve our many economic and social problems. all we had was a burning desire to change an unfair and unjust society for the better. thank you, gentlemen.

shared lane

spotted in the 'hood, and not a part of some high falutin' park connector network either! here's hoping for more of the same, and for the non-peds to stick to their lane!

state of the soul

1. my sin—oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!—my sin, not in part but the whole!
2. is nailed to the cross, and i bear it no more,
   praise the Lord, praise the Lord, o my soul!
3. spafford's old words. timeless truth. that Christ hath regarded my helpless estate and hath shed his blood for my soul. how utterly undeserved. how completely liberating.

sleeping beauty

around town in kuching, sarawak. stumbled upon camera film rolls on sale today. add to that the sheet metal workers shaping their pans the goldsmiths hawking their vintage jewelry and the occasional abandoned building. antediluvian kitsch.

high school reunion

where one meets up with ghosts past and perhaps gets to bury them where one catches up with those present and is sometimes pleasantly delighted and where one determines to attend more such events to come. 

my thanks to HOM for the moral support.

curiouser and curiouser

HOM and i make a half-day trip across the causeway into a peculiar series of encounters:

• the waiter who has such limited short term memory that he repeats our order thrice before showing us his (incorrect) order 
• but that's ok because we learn how to place an order in their system for him!
• although the wrong food still manages to arrive 
• the older gentleman at the next table who stares with unabashed curiosity at our fish before asking, are those dumplings?
• my temporary incarceration when the loo lock gets stuck the old-fashioned way i.e. mechanically and the cleaning lady her colleague her supervisor and HOM try (successfully!) to get me out, and
• this, which is a poodle masquerading as a duck, whaddayathunk

ordinary disasters - anne anlin chang (2024)

fascinating premise.

perspicacious.

erudite.

not gonna finish it.

too awfully self-centered.

pity. considering i hunt high and low for a copy of this book.

old faithful

like a beloved old blanket. i have weaned myself off the paper books, i tell HOM. so we can declutter the library if we need to. but the piano i hold on to yet, this splendid instrument with the buttery notes that holds memories dreams succor and solace. even if the strings snap regularly the touch requires much tender care and the dog thinks the piano tuner lives right next door.

chilli hot

auntie, you shouldn't do that, i murmur to the sweet old lady who has just flung a piece of soiled tissue onto the ground beside me. ohh! my hand slipped! and she smiles conspiratorially. then you should pick it up and throw it in the bin, i say, in my best (and totally accurate) chinese dialect. her smile fades very quickly but she retrieves her trash.

it helps that i am now almost as old as the people i tell off, and i look my age too. 

my hot buttons, as previously confessed:

• spitting on public property
• smoking in public
• littering

new broom

the old bus has wooden sliding windows you quickly push up when it rains and cracked pvc-covered seats with the yellow foam peeping thru and the bus driver slots in the metal bus number before he starts off. the new bus is air-conditioned has (almost) plush (near-)maroon seats and electronic signage. you can keep the vintage. i love the mod con. i'm kinda shallow that way.

chap goh meh

15 days

10 niangao

6 parties

4 houseguests

2 test cakes

1 birthday cake

full moon

lovely memories

but kinda exhausted

the housekeeper and the professor - yoko ogawa (translation, 2010)

tender unpretentious and unexpected account of the friendship and love that grow between a terribly impaired older gentleman the young woman who is randomly rostered to clean his home and her young son who awakens a vein of rich humanity in the desolation of his condition.

the language is simple, quite the eighth grade reader level. the ideas are weighty to balance that: dementia caregiving loss and spiritual pain!

that the book is full of nuggets of mathematical trivia is a bonus.

i am doing quite well for books this year.

2 tough 'uns

the first book is a little too dulcet-y self help-y salt-of-the-earth-y for a diet balanced out by murder stories on other days and is swiftly abandoned. although the illustrations are très charmant and utterly adorable.

the second book is laugh-out-loud funny with sharply incisive observations liberally sprinkled with expletives and i am enervated after the first few chapters. not abandoned yet, actually. i just need to intercalate the (mercifully short) chapters with another more demure read.

chemistry - weike wang (2017)

her debut novel written in a stream-of-consciousness style that is at once disorienting and unexpectedly compelling.

the narrator she is funny caustic and bitter dark indeed, as i descend with her into the morasses of her quietly disintegrating life. i mostly blame her truly stereotypical asian parents who somehow manage to bring my most painful memories to the surface.

am currently two thirds through the book unsure if i can continue to tolerate a protagonist who so consistently rejects the offer of joy but am nevertheless unable to put down the randomly charming writing.

chinese family culture can both suffocate and redeem. weike wang is right up there when it comes to depicting it.

the piano shop on the left bank - t.e. carhart (2001)

paris. (city of romance and dreams!)

le piano. (arguably still my favorite instrument)

the craftsmen and their networks. with history and other interesting nuggets.

intricate yet simple and deeply evocative. i remember flavia and my childhood and adolescent years of lessons.

this is a delightful bijou of a book. 

light at the end of the tunnel

having myself a quiet little day today as we transition out of the full-house situation slowly but surely fulfill the festive social obligations and (we hope) chalk up sufficient brownie points to qualify to bury ourselves in some solitude after this.

busy busy

one of our most jam-packed lunar new years in memory, HOM and i gasp to each other as we surface for air. multiple house guests multiple events endless meditation upon the next meal gah. fortunately the company is convivial the events are (half) over and the food has been decent. having A, of course, is delightful.

and just like that, pouf!

end of the inaugural month and what i have to show for it are a few books read many meals catered to a homeful of visitors over the lunar new year and a rather grindingly slow easing into part-time hours at work.

the unexpected professor - john carey (2014)

part memoir part sweeping review of literature as seen through a voracious english reader's eyes and part vignettes of d.h.lawrence george eliot and a few other favored writers. 

he has an agreeably dry style and (in the first parts of the book especially) effortlessly transports me to pre-war england then to post-war reconstruction and finally to the mid-century years. 

i think, at the end, how little have i read in my life! and also, how little i like poetry!

very happily, i get some new book names from him too, so it's all grist to the mill.