Sunday, October 13, 2019

Woods on Either Side





It’s really pretty extraordinary weather.  I bought a poncho that you can use with a bike and some thermal underwear to feel strong for when it’s cold.  But I haven’t needed any of it.  Throw a hoodie on and hit the rail path.  This morning there was next to no one to be seen and the pathway was littered with fresh yellow leaves, covering a two months of decaying leaves beneath them.  I passed by the place where two days before I’d seen a bear.  Off into the woods on either side of where I saw this fella, everything was dense forest and I thought to myself that this is surely the bear-country of the trail.



A guest over this evening.  My daughter has made friends with an upper class woman who hails from Vietnam.  Apparently she indicated to my daughter that she was into Black Pink, which, although not BTS, nor Mamamoo, was a good enough entrée point to begin building a friendship.   I consider her great bravery to be so far from home at that age, with limited English, learning and trying to create an identity and make sense of the Hudson Valley.  And I marvel at my daughter’s easy of cultural fluidity and automatic attraction to someone who is not from here.



Nguyen Phu Trong has a full head of grey hair and a convincing smile, which makes him seem younger than he might otherwise be.  He is also the president Vietnam.  No, I can’t name that on my own. Yes, I had to look it up.  Our guest also does not seem to know who Nguyen Phu Trong is.  But that’s OK.  She unquestionably loves the food of her country and we talk about how difficult it is to find real Vietnamese food here in the U.S.

It isn’t easy to find real Chinese food either.  Tonight my wife has decided to make everyone some jiaozi.  Just as is it were sanshihao in the Shandong Chunjie calendar, my wife soon has my daughter and her friend busy bao-ing jiaozi.  She has the xian’r all prepared ahead of time and the girls get into the process, twisting the top section shut with a pinch and twist flourish.  A flourish your tender writer has never mastered and so, I ask for forgiveness and plead the need to attend to some pressing phone calls.  Later, I’m happy to sample all their tender twisting later.



Friday 10/11/19

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