Songs for My Sister

This week, I’ve been listening to songs for my sister.  Some, we loved together.  Some, I think she would have loved.  All these years later, there are some I cannot listen to without too many memories.  Tears and guilt and a weight that will never be lifted.  My memories are snapshots of us under the eucalyptus trees, wandering through the pasture, fighting about chores, fighting about nothing and everything, and learning to fly in our own ways.  I miss her every day.

She was in love with Rick Springfield.  How did we not tire of “Jessie’s Girl“?  And she was in love with David Lee Roth - ”Jump“.   ”Every Breath You Take” made her want to play guitar.  I think we acted out the video for “Our House“.  ”Dancing in the Dark“, Bruce Springsteen – Oh, how we wanted him to be her dancing on stage with him!  When Quiet Riot came along with “Cum on Feel the Noize“, hell yes, we rocked the big hair! “Rock Me Amadeus“, “Manic Monday“, “Pour Some Sugar on Me” … Prince, Journey, The Beach Boys, Huey Lewis & the News … We were California kids of the 80s.

More recently, I think she would have liked “Crazy” from Gnarls Barkley.  And for that matter, Cee Lo’s “Fuck You“.  ”Supermassive Black Hole“.  ”Lose Yourself“.  I think she would have liked Outkast, Gaga, Pink, Kelly Clarkson.  I would have wanted her to like “Count on Me“, “Make You Feel My Love“, “Let it Be Me“, “Whiskey, Whiskey, Whiskey“, or maybe just because I think of her when I hear those.

She would have danced Gangnam Style around her living room to make her kids laugh.  She would have asked me who the hell Calvin Harris is.  She would have remained true to Rick Springfield.

Oh my dear sister, I don’t think the others really knew, but it was always you.

I used to believe we were just like those trees.  We’d grow just as tall and as proud as we’d please. With our feet on the ground and our arms in the breeze, under a sheltering sky.  … and when I look up at you looking down, say it was only a dream.  ”Only a Dream“, Mary Chapin Carpenter 

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A Visit from a Flat Friend

A beautiful little doll recently came to visit.  A 3rd grader we know read Flat Stanley by Jeff Brown, a book about a boy who is flattened by a bulletin board.  No worries.  He survives and makes the best of things by slipping under doors, flying like a kite, and visiting friends through the mail.  So PC’s flat, pink skirt-wearing friend came in the mail to us for some adventures in China.

She spent a couple of weeks in Shenyang, in the Liaoning Province of northeast China.  And because we had to make a special trip to Hong Kong (future blog entry), she flew all the way to the south of China for some fun there too.

I’ve mailed her back that 3rd grade class in Indiana, along with her journal, photos, some postcards and souvenirs for PC and her friends.  It was a pleasure.

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Squirrel!

Last fall, T got a jacket from work.  There was a department celebrating a milestone, and he was included.  It’s a red heavy windbreaker with gray patches on the shoulders and side panels, and the company logo on the front.

Well, there must have been a huge sale on these jackets (minus that logo).  This spring, I am seeing them everywhere.  On Saturday, when I went to the post office, I saw 3 in 3.5km.  The other day, on a 15 minute car ride to the grocery store, I saw 8 in 6 blocks.  Last week on the taxi ride back from the center of the city, 11 people!  Plus a billboard advertising the jacket.  Someone in the jacket factory let the machines run a few extra nights and Shenyang ended up with an extra truck load.

Tim wears his nearly every day.  Coincidentally, or not, our driver, Pan, has the jacket too.  So as I sit in the backseat with him and Tim up front, it’s “Jacket, Jacket” everywhere we go.

Then, there are the variations … red with black patches, green or pink with gray patches, black with red patches, men, women, even children.  They are everywhere.  I walk down the street or look out our apartment window and say to myself, “Jacket.”  They have become my SQUIRREL!  It’s lucky that the temperatures are on the rise or who knows how many pictures I’d end up with.

Sharing my obsession.

Squirrel

Squirrel

And more

And more

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The Search

Lately, I’ve been searching for spring.  In April, the temperatures in northern China have moved from a down-coat-boot-wearing high of 15F to a lovely sweater-trench-wearing 50F.  Today, the sign on the street outside our window proposes a whopping high of 60F.  Of course, that temp is probably happening outside while I sit here and type this.  When the sand storm inducing wind picks up this afternoon, I’ll be glad I’m still wearing a sweater.

Two weeks ago, I had blue skies and no wind for my walk to the post office and around the block.  But the only evidence of spring was a few green blades of grass seen as I walked back into our neighborhood at the end of 3.5km.

Yesterday, I walked from the doctor’s office to the Imperial Palace along Dadong Road, also about 3.5km.  Lo and behold, spring has arrived in that part of the city.  The trees are beginning to bloom and I have photographic evidence, obtained much to the delight of the 20 or so people staring at me and my camera.

So, while thoughts of friends going through difficult times weigh on my mind, I can at least find some comfort and smile at the signs of spring.

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Writing it down

For some, saying it out loud makes it better.  For me, writing it down.  And so I’ve been writing more and more this year.  To celebrate National Poetry Month, and my goal to see the positive, here is a contribution to the blogworld today.

Again, formerly titled The Assault

It lulls you in
bright lights
movement
noise
new
Wake at 3am and there, still, is a spinning world.

Eyes wide.
Wow. What. Why. How.
I can do this.
Look at that.  Photo. Photo. Photo.
Why are they staring?
(laugh) I can do this.

And then, I don’t remember the details.
Was it one thing?  A switch turned by the movement?
Or a beat down.

I can do this. This elephant.
One fascinating experience at a time.
One language conquering moment at a time.
One cheap electronic and copy handbag
or unbelievable deal at a time.

Some days you lose your way.
Some days the way is just gone.
One fascinating, story-telling experience at a time.

I want to go home.
wherever that is
I want easy.  Understand and be understood.  Hide.

Maybe it’s been eating me all along.
one bite at a time
the beat down
the assault on my senses
the gradual attack

Ahhh. Fresh air.  Light.
I can do this.  Get away.  Remember.  Smile.  Breathe.  Drive.
It lulls you back
Eyes wider.
A good day, a good choice, and you forget

So it’s me.  Is it me?  I let them in.  I did this.
Shut up, you.  (expletive)
Shut up, me.  Stop.

Stop.  Figure it out.
Leave it.  Again.
And again. Leave it.
Embrace that glorious, thick-skinned, floppy eared, dirty, wet, beautiful beast.  Every day.
Follow it home.
Find the way.

I can do this.

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A new day

A little inspiration to begin this week.

Her father left his questions unasked.  But both knew, and for the same reason, that bad days go better without any questions at all.  

- Eudora Welty, The Optimist’s Daughter

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense. 

― Ralph Waldo Emerson

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Diamond Update

I should stop calling it The Monstrosity.  It is supposed to be a diamond.  The facade will shine brightly on the skyline, that’s for sure.

They have been working through the winter to make sure this building is ready for the China National Games about 150 days from now.  Liaoning Province won the honor to host these games and the city has been preparing for years.  It is one of the reasons why we have seen so much construction during our time here.  This particular bit of construction is a daily sight for us.  Tiny ant people walk along the huge, circular beams.  Welders welding all hours of the day and night.  Cranes moving round and round, up and down.  Fascinating.

 

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