I have lost a friend

It's been less than a year since they died, and I still miss them very much.

"They" were my imaginary friends for years, since before I can remember. There was Dexter with her squeaky voice and Lefty with his gravelly one. They helped me play parts in games, such as hospital, acting out favorite stories, and, in later years, celebrities such as...well, better not say. Those celebrities have an uncanny way of finding out such things and I will not go into the way they were.

The day they died they put on a performance as Luke and Leia, though in real life Dexter and Lefty were not related and I played matchmaker for them. I even spruced Dexter up with a red wedding veil ("I look like a babushka!" she cried. "Take it off!") and rang the wedding bells, then they thought it was nap time and fell asleep. The wedding (and the playtime) was called off as I slapped them to wake them up.

Dexter had a high squeaky voice and was somewhat frivolous and silly. She also had great capacity for capturing some actions of certain women I know of, though the sillyness of it made them unrecognizable. Lefty was her counterpart, serious and indentifiable by his voice and his "monocle"--really several different wedding rings. But that's another story, and brings up a couple bad memories, so I won't go into that now.

I am glad I taped them doing our favorite stories, for they are dead now. I will not try to resurrect them, for they are gone. I can only remember and weep, for they were very dear and very real to me and the longest-lasting of my imaginary friends. Or even my friends, though these friends I mean to keep in touch with and their friendships shall probably be carried on for a very long time. But Dexter and Lefty were real. The fairies transformed them long ago, and their grave has no marker (When I get home, though, I mean to put up a monument) (No, not in the yard, in my room) (Yes, in plain sight). And I will never meet them again in reality, ever. Their memories will stay with me for a long time. And I can hear their voices because of the recordings.

Some say imaginary friends die because you don't need them anymore. Sure, some of them do. But those of them that are touched by reality, they, they perhaps will die before their times. And it is quite painful if they do.

Of course Dexter and Lefty were not real in the true sense of the world, but they were quite dear to me and all the sentiments expressed in this obituary are honest, true, and nothing to sneeze at. If I didn't have Evonne, Rachel, Kiana, Holli, Kelly, and anyone else who is to be or was indeed at one point a friend of mine, this would've been much harder. Dear friends, one and all, I love you and I'm grateful for you.
Saro

Somebody smack me on the head

Good grief! I was wondering why a lot of the recently updated blogs have Chinese titles when I update. Kind of funny, I thought, that I would be thinking about Chinese and there would be all these China posts...and then I thought, good grief, I'm in China! Duh! I update when people in China update because I am in China. Duh! Somebody smack me on the head!
Saro

Wet, wet, wet

What a wet weekend! On Saturday, we started out along the irrigation ditch in a light rain. It soon dried up, and we walked along the concrete wall in perfect peace. On the way back, however, I slipped on some sand and all of a sudden I felt myself falling backward. The next thing I knew--Splash--there I was, in the middle of the irrigation ditch, feeling like a fool and wondering how I was ever going to get out of it. It was really not all that deep but I was soaked and had to change my clothes completely and take a spongebath.

That hasn't been the first of my troubles along this hike, anyhow. There are two ways to get down and the harder one has its slippery points. I've only done it once and will never do it again. One minute I was plunging through mud and the next minute I was in the rice paddy. Yes, it was flooded. Yeeks!

Then, yesterday, we decided to go to the all-new outdoor "mall" and eat supper at Dico's, a new fast-food place. It was wonderful! But in order to get there it was a long walk through a light rain--that is, until the downpour started. I felt like Willie in the song "Drowned Lovers"--"Let me in, 'cause I'm frozen to the skin." (No, that's not a direct quote)

Well, I was wet to the skin and frozen to the skin, but the chicken was delicious.

Really.

Yikes!

Our British neighbors came over to dinner last night. And they told us a story that was kind of amazing and really scary. And the power went out, no less! But still....

A woman was riding to the airport from the New Territories in Hong Kong, on the back of a motorcycle. The motorcycle had a slight accident and she was thrown off. She was a bit bruised, but seemed okay. So she went to the airport and checked into her flight to London and got on.

What she didn't realize was that she had broken a rib, which in turn had punctured a lung. Some cavity was filling with air and was deflating a lung or something. She was in danger. So, the general announcement went out: "Is there a doctor on board?"

There was. But lungs was apparently not his speciality. However, his services were needed and of course he came forward. Then he had to do a makeshift surgery. He unbent a coat hanger and poked a hole in the woman's chest. Then he created a vacuum, drawing the air out of that cavity. So everything was okay, for then. (By the way, the things were sterilized in brandy!)

But then, the woman had to use the lavatory. She went in, and put the bottle that was keeping the vacuum going on the counter. But it slipped and reversed the action. She collapsed in the lavatory.

So, the doctor (poor doctor!) was called back again and it was a simple matter of putting the bottle back in position. She was fine, after that, and got to the hospital in London okay. But still!

So that was the story of the woman with the punctured lung on the flight to London. That, along with descriptions of Oman and Hong Kong, made for an enjoyable evening by candlelight (and I even got to work on my quilt!!!)
Saro

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Five years ago

Five years ago, today.

I still remember it.

We're not people to be updated on the news, which is a mixed blessing--mostly good with a little bad--but this time it was different. However, Daddy listens to news in the car and that's when he heard.

When he came in I knew something was wrong.

As he told the news, quickly, and with such large words I couldn't understand, Mum's shoulders slumped as she sat quietly at the kitchen table. I was confused. It didn't come clear even when he got out our book, America A to Z, and showed a picture of Manhattan. Somehow, though, I knew that the two tall buildings he pointed out, gleaming in the sunlight, were gone.

Gone. Like the airplanes from the sky or the lives of many people from this earth. Gone.

Everything was strange. Lunch was strange--everyone was very quiet and subdued. We sang a song of comfort afterwards, an old one. From our oldest songbook that has the names of the tunes, mostly in German and no title for the words.

After lunch, Mum asked us, "Do you understand what's happening?"

"No."

"The United States has been attacked. If you have any questions, you can ask me."

I did have questions, but I held my tongue. Did I really want to know? I wanted to keep my sorrow and fear inside. From my sister's questions I gathered more.

After that, I remember seeing the faces of people I knew well, but not too well, and wondered, Do they have relatives or friends in another part of the country who are dead? To my knowledge, however, my friends were spared.

Teacher Sandy told us to keep our arms in a perfect right angle. "Now, don't put your arms out like this or it'll look like an airplane going off course...that wasn't a good metaphor, was it?"

One of my classmates, Cookie, was sitting on a chair Teacher Sandy used for a ballet bar with her eyes closed, whispering.

I used to worry that Osama bin Laden was hiding behind our recycling bin in the basement, waiting to get me. He would chase me around the basement, I thought, and then kidnap me and take me to Afghanistan...and then the details were really hazy. It was a strange fear. Especially since he looked like an evil twin of my favorite uncle in my imaginings, which were nothing like real life.

All the talk about war really scared me. It happened a Wednesday night in March or April. I remember thinking really deep thoughts and keeping them to myself.

Since then, I can never see a building fall without feeling sick, even though I saw no footage or anything. Even if the building is a planned implosion or something. I think then is when I started feeling really wierd about destroying things, but especially buildings. Before then, however, I saw the Kingdome implode and thought it was exciting. Memories sicken me now.

Four years ago, they were doing Mozart's Requiem all over the country at local time of the attacks. I had the chance to go to Safeco field, but I chose not to. I don't know why; I halfway regret it now.

Five years seems like a long time ago. So much has changed.

I remember, a little over four years ago realizing that this was history in the making. Everything is history in a sense, but give it time and fiction about this time will be labeled "historical" and children who read it will be like me reading about the Vietnam War.

Just six years ago I thought living at the turn of a century was cool. But those memories will wait, for now. Later.
Saro

Whose brainy idea was that?!

I realized I'm trying to get the family the same sort of thing for Christmas, and it's going to take work and effort. It should also be a little bit expensive to cover...shall we say printing costs? Oh, well...they just better like it...not like I mind spending money but because when I have a brainstorm idea I want some folks to see the light(ning) :)

I haven't even been eating seafood, so my brain's probably not in the best order, anyway.

School started today. Enough said. Gotta run!
Saro

Karate?

Hello, dear friends--

(Is anyone out there? Please send me a comment!)

Micha and Kiana worked out a great scheme before we got back. Micha and my sister would take karate, while Kiana and I would take art. Sounds great, I mean, Micha likes karate, she and my sister are "best buds", Kiana and I like art and are pals, too...except there's one problem.

My sister had no idea what karate is or if she'd want to do it!

Notice I say "had". Today we spent two hours observing the class. My feet itched, which was a good sign--if I have to sit and watch her do it, my feet should itch to do it but my head should tell me, "You're crazy!" That way I will enjoy watching but not be jealous. After getting Mum's and my opinion, she decided to swing it. Now, if everything works out, Micha's and Kiana's grand scheme will work out...:)

Oh. By the way, we were playing with them this morning. They got out their dolls and we were going to play the first Thanksgiving. But we ended up playing a politically-correct, un-realistic, amazingly fun game. See, one of the dolls is Native American and the other is a pioneer girl. So, the pioneer girl was Hannah, then Micha and Kiana's little sister Skylie was Patience, and there was a little baby doll named Blessing. I was the Widow Whipple, but my first name was Remember. Then Micha was Pocahontas (but I called her Goodwife Rebecca) and her doll was Kaya, and then she knew all the good things about living and adapting. The two eldest girls, Hannah and Kaya, were living under the care of both of us and they were living the lives of both the white folks and the Native Americans and, well...think of a politically correct history with a bit of crazy ideas from Patience (all of a sudden the baby takes sick and dies but is miraculously brought back to life by Pocahontas? Patience runs around in a racecar helmet preventing forest fires?!) and you have it. But it was fun.

Summer Pics!

Me reading a book outside Grandma's house. Note the "Leia Braids" I was wearing!
Now we find out I was reading the "Return of the Jedi" novel! Ha-ha.
A Piccolo Pete on Independence Day.
Me in my "Laura Ingalls" dress on July 4th. That's my first time with a sparkler!
Another shot of me with the sparkler. I look better in that shot!
I am dancing in this one...to...
Balkanarama! Who can not dance to their music? (Besides my sister, I mean?)
Curly fries and a new CD! Our afternoon is complete!
Tacoma's Waterfront. My sister is sitting on the remains of an excercise trail.
Copying sculptures is really fun! Any questions?
Again, I copy sculptures, though I think I got that a bit wrong :o(
A Christmas tree! Haven't seen one of those since the Christmas before last!
Of course, not only presents get to hide under the Christmas tree! This was a favorite spot!
Miao! Miao! Miaaoooooo!
Is that present there for meee?
All my friends. I'm the shortest one!
We like to goof off. That's a bathroom!
Dub-Dub!
Christmas dinner!
Little Alfred. He's just one of the many stray cats we played with this summer.

That's all for now. More later!
Saro

It happened to me

I've always wondered how they do that. Talking without words, I mean. After all, I am one of those people who can't live without words, practically. Seriously, I mean. I never understood it.

Actually, I still don't understand it. But I have some idea of it. I mean, it's happened to me.

Yesterday, Mum and a Chinese lady who runs an English class for children discussed business. The Chinese lady's daughter also showed up, probably about my sister's age, or so. After a little bit she came into our room. She tried to take off her sandals, but I went and got mine to show her to keep them on. We cleared a spot on the bed, and after a bit of gawking at our room (our room is sort of strange, if you think about it!) she asked, with motions to sit down. I was delighted to have her. I went and got some pictures of America that I'd taken this summer and let her look at them. In the middle of the second roll, she had to leave. But somehow, I felt very happy. Suddenly, I didn't understand something, but it was completely believable. It had happened to me.
Saro

Home Again

I am home! We were greeted by Micha and Kiana (oh, and their Mom!). And then we met our new lao wai neighbors. Who knows what they're like? Now I'm listening to Star Wars: The Musical and doing some other online work.

Saro