DO NOT drink a cup of americano after you have affogato.
the combination is potently palpitatious.
HOM, on the other hand, is perfectly fine on account of his having two scoops of gelato instead of affogato and now his americano only serves as a deconstructed affogato of sorts.
friday: we arrive home. cough headaches chills
saturday: cough headaches chills
today: cough
monday: work
tuesday: work
wednesday: work
thursday: work
friday: work
saturday: work
sunday: play piano for church service
next monday: collapse
note to self: when going on extended time off, do not agree to take on too many additional tasks on return, purely out of guilt.
how glad i am that
i need not seek. i have been sought. i am found
i need not do penance. he has suffered. i am bought
because
if i needed to seek and suffer
i may not even not seek
or suffer enough pain
how glad i am!
too sick to show up at church today. this must be the first good friday i skip church in all the years since knowing the spirit freedom of salvation.
yet grateful.
here we are HOM and i, fast coming to the end of the month we spend with Ji J2 A and E. as well as S and A the cats.
with gratitude at seeing a teeny weeny wizened babe guzzle her way to decent weight gain. with delight at being around a toddler, a blank canvas to teach to coach to protect and to show to.
with relief at coming to the end of keeping a household intact alive and functioning. (how will the young people keep themselves intact alive and functioning after we go?)
with regret that we cannot gift them more of our time. with gladness and joy at this season we are gifted with.
as in, books i give up reading part way through:
J2's: she is running out of hand soap toilet paper chicken and broccoli
HOM's: he wants to get his beloved cashews and pistachios
me: i want the haagen dazs ice cream bars on sale at $8.99 a box of 20 (yasss)
A: she wants the grub samples
E: she is helpless and simply follows the milk
little A has a pediatrician's appointment so HOM and i tag along (to be accurate we tag along because J2 promises us a trip to costco after the doctor's).
i am agog at the friendly vibe. cutesy prints on the wall pretty prints on the chairs all manner of print for reading and the notices printed in blacktear script. my first time at a pediatrician's, i whisper to HOM.
did our children not go to the pediatrician? HOM asks me. nah, i confess.
back in the day, only very ill kids see the pediatrician. the others see the maternal and child health services people. the name alone tells you there are no frills there.
as un-japanese as music can get
with varsity sports playing on the wall TV
and sashimi to gladden our souls. oishi
a new series discovered, thanks to J2's recommendation.
she is alternately a snazzy career woman with deep pockets and a doozy kitschy klutz swooning over eligible males. there is that chubby oriental policeman foil to her character who appears to be wise beyond his years.
the murders are real enough the action is bloody enough and all is set in the charmingly retro cotswolds. fortunately there are 31 books. i shall ration them over time.
in return, i introduce J2 to hamish macbeth.
or, a dog comes to church today.
or, dogs are ultra-included in church.
the thing about being a visitor, i tell HOM, is i can just look on in bemused wonder. nothing has to make sense to me. to his credit the dog does not bark during the service.
my special princess, who introduces me to the ineffable fascinations of being a grandmother! to whom i need be nothing more than present, nothing better than i am, bringing nothing more than what i have!
i wonder at your curious mind and your eagle eye. i am astonished at your unbelievable grasp of things i mention just once. i laugh with you at your sense of humor. how does a 2-year-old kiddo know to tease her grandfather just so? i am in awe of your determination in the park. when i follow you up the step-ladder i get a minor attack of altitude sickness. i love your generosity when you share the cashews with me your mom and even little E. i cringe when you grease the table and the chair feed your hair and the floor and smear your cheeks but miss the mouth. i worry when you notice that E is getting attention.
grow hard and grow well, A! be strong and able like your mom! be generous and open like your dad! be faithful and grounded, unafraid of life! may he who is able to do more than we ask for or imagine do all that, and more, in your life!
how much you have gone thru to get to this time, E! thru maternal stress and growth challenges to perinatal issues! and how much i have seen you grow to this time! you are like a little thriving magical elf, tiny self-assured and amazingly self-possessed-ly calm.
how glad i am to see you, E! you are planted in a garden of nurturing love filled with blooms of care and protectiveness and sheltering shade. you have a mother who is strong and able (and strong-willed!) and a dad who is all vigilant watchman (yet soft-hearted!) who loves your mother well enough to be a good father!
may God strengthen you in your inner (wo)man and form Christ in you and fill you with his fulness. may you know him richly, who is able to keep you from falling and present you on the last day before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy. may you live gladly and fully!
hiiii!!! says A to the truck driver.
i wonder how many kids he sees on his route, J2 says.
i simply wonder.
the cognitive revolution. imagined realities.
objective subjective and inter-subjective constructs.
the global empire.
sweeping and fascinating. also deliberately provocative.
amongst the morass of gibberish that A continually sprouts are a few choice pearls of clear communication:
adult: A, can you do this please?
A: NO (clear grammatical emphatic and prompt)
also,
A: hi!! (with full command of the diphthong so it comes out as haaiiiiii!!)
A: bye!!
the rest is everyone's best guess, J2 not unexpectedly being the most accurate guesser.
fresh from a series of china visits, here are some thoughts:
what gift of grace is Jesus, my redeemer
there is no more for heaven now to give
he is my joy, my righteousness and freedom
my steadfast love, my deep and boundless peace
grateful and glad yet amazed and bemused to sing this. to be able to sing this.
here is a solar-battery-heated swimming pool for sale in costco. in addition to rather good wines at pretty decent prices that all-time-winner rotisserie chicken and food samples to gladden a hungry shopper's heart. not to mention jewelry prescription refills and books.
you have elon musk and co. and their ai shenanigans doing iconoclast acts but costco was there before them all.
i read this in refuge from this.
as hoped, it is sweet decent well-paced and leaves me with a warm fuzzy feeling for family and other awkward people.
also, it is remarkably easy to read and witty to boot.
early morning walk in the nippy air and then emerging gladly from the shade into the warm embrace of sunshine even though back east we are trained from childhood to avoid the sun.
there are few more ineffable pleasures.
standing in the aisle
looking at the goods
wondering at the sellability
and amazed at the traffic
two lovely reminders of earlier phases in my life, courtesy of the clovis antique malls:
this is A's day, running on repeat:
accompanied by a running commentary in gibberish punctuated by tantrums.
we get to return the baby when she is soiled upset hungry or unhappy
we have to learn a whole new toddler language
she gets new targets to twist around her little finger
we are assigned new roles in life
pretty awesome privilege
little A has us neatly classified.
she sees me and says, read!
she sees HOM and says, cashews!
my boots from the online used goods circuit, purchased for a price i am embarrassed to repeat. intact waterproof and good lookin'.
there is asia with your lower cost of living and affordable almost-everything and then there is the thrift culture in the states which, if you couple with deal-of-the-day specials, can net you some unbelievable catches. girl ain't complainin'.
so here we are at Ji and J2's and the focus emphatically switches from adult cares work weights various bypassing irritants and mature food options to elementary readers crumbs on every surface cheese slices and diapers. i vaguely remember i have another life somewhere else.
in other news, the cost of living here is stratospheric.
even i eventually reach my limit for doomscrolling. in the spirit of lent, i sign out of fb and fb messenger today and immediately notice:
all i can say is, i'm not getting a pro anytime soon.
it is well and good to lift our voice in praise.
it would be good to be in tune.
although i am sure the off-tune also pleases.
the oven gets resurrected. it only takes five desperate calls over the festive holidays for us to finally get to our old electrician to beg him to show up to work the miracle. you are my first customers this year, he says. so happy to pay up! i want to say, with deep and heartfelt relief.
observations this year:
time was when we met in someone's apartment on day 2, just two generations sharing a home made repast.
these days we swarm in, four generations with spouses and partners and various attendants to boot and we need the condo function room or the community gathering places for a professionally catered lunch, still on day 2. sans those who have departed.
it takes me 30-odd years to learn names and intricacies of relations that i meet once a year but i am getting there slowly.
lovely weather to snuggle under the blankets in,
or to have hot coffee and chocolates in,
or just to read a good book in.
but not for venturing out to visit in, unfortunately.
baby E arrives. through dangers toils and snares, it seems, to join her sister A.
be strong and courageous, child! be rich in faith and clear of mind! in kindness and in gentleness be your way!
the gladness does not fully sink in yet.
we always seem to meet long-lost friends at wakes.
the years are kind to some. grey suits them and they wear their lines well.
and not so kind to others. with more heft and sans hair.
some are gracefully refined by time.
and some are harsh.
'tis life.
usual sunday dinner quandary: where and what, somewhat circumscribed tonite by the funeral wake we attend in the evening hour.
we end up in the neighborhood hawker center near closing time catch two of her last bowls of yong tau foo sit amongst empty tables to the accompaniment of chinese oldies blaring from another stall's sound system on a wondrously cool and breezy night.
memories are made of stuff like this.
the little tornado we were not sure would see this age with this sentience has decidedly completed three decades and now nurtures a tornado of her own. how miraculous this is, i think. how undeservedly good and merciful of God. how generously he blesses.
