Day 213 Full circle

It has been a very quick week, and another 15k+ miles are logged on the credit card. It will be at least a week of interrupted, screwed up sleep as I try to get my body clock set to Beijing yet again.  Last night I was wide awake from 1:30-3:30am, then I cursed my alarm when it went off at 6:00am.  Such is life, I guess. I am convinced that grief, coupled with world wide travel, will age a person.  Today I feel especially old.

Let me back up, and try to play catch up.  In spite of returning to the States for the burial of Grandma, there were many highlights to the journey.  These first few 'airplane pictures' are for my little buddy Tayte, and his little buddy Simon :)

For the first time ever, I flew DragonAir out of Beijing.  Tayte, how cool is
it that I got to fly on a plane with a red dragon on its tail?!

It was also pretty exciting to fly in to Hong Kong for the
first time.  I get excited every time I see boats in the water :)
I will admit though, we came in so low, it looked like
we were going to land IN the water.  At the last second, a
strip of land appeared out of nowhere.  The airport was literally
built into its own island (maybe it was a giant landfill?)

So far, Hong Kong looks interesting, there's mountains!
Sadly, though, the pollution seems as bad, or worse, than Beijing :(

I burst into the biggest grin when I saw this plane as we taxi'ed to the gate.
GOD BLESS THE U.S.A.!  Yay for our military!!!!

My headmaster, Betty Wu, was in Macau when she emailed me granting
permission for me to make the quick trip to Texas.  I didn't know where
Macau was until I walked in to the Hong Kong airport.  Now I know!
I think I want to come back. Anyplace that requires me to take a ferry
to go see it sounds like my kind of place :)

As we left Hong Kong, bound for Dallas, I snapped this pic for Tayte-
he loves ALL planes :)

I flew a different direction home yet again.  I have flown north west, over Russia
and near the Arctic Circle, down through Canada, and home.  I have flown to
the east, through the Middle East, and home.  This time, since I was already
south, I flew almost due west ALL THE WAY across the Pacific Ocean!

I looked at nothing but blue water for over 10 hours.  It was still crazy to think
that crossing the Pacific is about 10 hours by plane, but it is 30 days or
more by sailboat- depending on the wind and weather.  That's a lot of blue!

Close to 15 hours later, we were flaps down, coming in for
a landing in Dallas, Texas.  If I didn't know any better I would
have thought I was back in Beijing, looking at the sky :/
Fortunately, by the third airplane, I was in McAllen,
Texas, where it was sunny blue skies and 85 degrees :)

The following day, Len flew in from Florida.  I picked
him up in Harlingen, and we took a detour in to
Progreso, Mexico, on our way back to Mission, Texas.

I was on a mission from Mission!  Grandma and Grandpa always loved
going to Garcia's in Progreso, Mexico, to have dinner and margaritas.
Most of the old folks in south Texas go to Mexico to get their hair cut,
have dental work done, pick up their prescriptions, and buy liquor
and cigarettes.  Not much has changed- all Mexicans or old Caucasians
were in Progreso, lol.  Here's to ya', Grandma! 

On Sunday, there was a service held in Indiana.  By Monday, I had errands
to take care of for Grandma's arrival in Texas.  I went to the funeral home to
be assured that someone would be at the airport to pick her up later that day.
I ordered flowers for the following morning, signed a bunch of papers, and
then delivered them to the cemetery, so that they had the orders for her
interment on Tuesday.  I then went to find their headstones- I couldn't
believe how much the cemetery had grown over the years.

Late in the day, we went to the McAllen airport to pick up
my big brother, Kent :)   I <3 him so much.

We went to dinner, and of course, had a margarita for Grandma.
Here's to ya', Grandma!  It was enjoyable to hear all the stories told
from Grandma's funeral in Indiana.  Kent and I also did our share of
reminiscing over dinner.  It was really good- so many good memories
of our grandparents.  They were a HUGE influence in our lives, and
we were incredibly blessed to have them in our lives for 50+ years.

After dinner, though it was starting to get dark, we went by Grandma and
Grandpa's place on Evergreen Court.  I had found it earlier in the day.
I have pictures of  Grandma pushing each of my girls in the stroller
on this front sidewalk.  They loved when Grandma took them on
stroller rides; she would walk for exercise 2-3 times a day.

All of the great grand kids remembered swimming in the
pool at Grandma's place.  One of my favorite photos of
Emily is of her clinging to the strap of my swimsuit in
this pool when she was about a year old.  Kent and I had
a good laugh when we peeked over the fence at the pool-
it was SO SMALL!  Many backyard pools are bigger, lol.

The following day was Grandma's graveside service.

It was just the three of us there.

Kent conducted the service, and it was perfect :)  I had Texas yellow
roses on her casket as she did for Grandpa and Dad.  The three red
roses were for each of them- Mother, Father, and their only child, my dad.

And as we did for the two before her, we went to the Rio Grande River to
put roses in the water. 

Kent did a beautiful job, once again.  Dad died first, when

I was 18, on March 19th.  Three years later, when I was 21,

Grandpa died on March 17th.  And when I got the news at
school last week on March 19th, I realized that back in Indiana
 it was still March the 18th there.  When that realization hit me,
 I broke down at my desk.  It couldn't have happened any

other way- Grandma passed between to two most important

men in her life.  It was His perfect plan, if you ask me.

The circle was complete.

After the trip to the river, since we were close by, we went to the
old mission, how Mission, Texas, got her name.  Kent and I, and
our families, have been there several times.  It was a favorite
place that Grandma and Grandpa liked to go for a picnic in the park.

Kent signed the registry in the chapel, in their memory.  It was not irony
that the Bible on the alter was open to Isaiah, a scripture that my nephew
Kevin had shared at Grandma's funeral just days before in Indiana.
It was His perfect plan, once again :)

We took a walk about the gardens, 

and before we left, Kent rang the chapel bell three times.
We were finished.  Both of us came to do what we
had always promised Grandma, that we "would see
it through to the end."  We did, and it was bittersweet.

I loved the motel we stayed at- I started my days with a Texas sized waffle :)

When I took Kent to the airport, I promised him I would go to Padre Island.
It was another trip we always made when we visited Grandma and Grandpa.
We would spend the day at the beach.  Of course, it is all built up now,
but on the north end of the island it is still like it was in the 'old days'
when you could drive your car right out on to the beach. 

A front was moving in, and I nearly froze to death, but
I was determined to put my feet in the water, and pick
up a seashell.  I don't know when I will ever be back,
and I have many, many happy memories at Padre.
(That's a Portuguese Man o' War in the foreground-ouch!)

And for Kent, I stopped at Blackbeard's, where he often went to dinner when he
visited Padre.  My memory was of Louie's Backyard, which is still there, too.

The rain cleared up and we had time on our hands, so we
drove south through Brownsville to Matamoros, Mexico.
A local taxi picked us up, 'mi amigo, Antonio', and he
was our personal tour guide for a couple of hours.  This
was taken on the town square, where they gather each
weekend for music and dancing.  I love that about the
Mexican culture.  I remember being younger and going
to Mexico with Grandma and Grandpa- I always ran
out on to the square and danced with the locals :)

I don't remember the name or the significance of this statue.
What I do know is it was a good thing we had our friend, Antonio,
with us.  Trip Advisor has Matamoros under a safety and
security alert.  No wonder we didn't see any other Caucasians!
I was disturbed to have read that in November 2013, it was the
bloodiest day of gang violence when 13 people were shot and killed.
My mother would have had a fit if she knew I was there!!!
I will say, we were not approached by beggars in Matamoros
like we were in Progreso.  I never felt unsafe while we were there.
Antonio must have made all the difference :)

Antonio took us to the one bright spot in Matamoros,
the Cathedral that has been lovingly restored. He was
very proud of it, and the church's bell from the 1800's

We went inside, and I joined the few locals gathered there and said a prayer for Grandpa, Grandma, and Dad.

Antonio took us through the church and introduced us to San Charbel,
on the left, the patron Saint of miracles.  People write their prayers
for a miracle on the ribbons, and drape them over his arms.  Interesting.

More weather was moving in, and it was time to bid our
goodbyes to Antonio and make our way back across the bridge.
Thank you, God, for a safe passage :))))

I don't know if and when I will ever be in the Rio Grande Valley of south Texas ever again.  I will say this, I was flooded with such good memories, so it was very healing to have gone back.  It was a whirlwind trip, both physically and emotionally exhausting, but it was the right call.  I am so grateful to Betty and BNDS for granting me the leave to make this trip.  Family is very important, most important, in the Chinese culture, so she was very understanding of my need to go.  I came full circle with my childhood, my past, and my family this trip.   Full circle feels good, y'all :)

Day 199 Sad day

Today was the day I have dreaded for years.  I did not want to have to deal with a tragedy while I am halfway across the world on planet China.  I knew that in all likelihood, that was a very real possibility...accidents happen, family gets sick, new little ones are born, the cycle continues.  I have had so much loss to confront in the last nine months or so.  I couldn't bear the thought of another loss. Yes, she was nearly 102 years old.  Yes, she lived a full life.  Yes, she is happily reunited with my dad and my grandpa.  I know all these things to be true in my head.  It is my heart that is incredibly sad.  I wanted to hold her hand one more time. I wanted to be with her in her final moments, to pray her through to the other side, to assure it was time, that it was okay, and that I would be okay.  I wanted to be with my brother, Kent.  I didn't want him to have to deal the business of dying all by himself.  I feel selfish.  And sad.  The truth is, I am not okay at the moment.  I feel like the saddest girl in China. For now, I have to sit in what is a sometimes messy life, and find a way to be okay once again. Tonight I am sad.  Heartbroken.  Exhausted.  Today I tried to push through and teach through my grief.  Tonight, I just want to be back in Indiana.

I came home and slept for three hours.  My head is still pounding.  I put on some soothing music, laid in the darkness, and just tried to be present in the moment.  The only way through it, is through it. Why has this hit me so hard?  I knew this day would come.  Why do I feel so lost right now?  I feel like the little girl that didn't want to go home from Grandma and Grandpa's house.  I just wanted to stay with her then, as I do now- for always.  I never wanted to leave her.  Today she left me.

My grandma was the epitome of unconditional love.  Truly. My grandma LOVED me.  My grandma was a lover.  She loved deeply and passionately, just as I do.  As I thought of her unending love for her family- her grandchildren, great grandchildren, and great great grandchildren, several things came to mind, that literally took the wind from my sails.

I realized today, that back in Indiana, it was still March 18th.  My grandma said she always hated the month March. "You can give March back to the Indians," she'd say.  "I'm going to hide behind the couch, and not come out until March is over," was another one of her many expressions.  The month of March took everyone from her that she loved- her mother (when she was a five year old little girl) her mother in law (who was the mother she never had) my dad, and then her beloved, my grandpa. My father died when I was 19 years old.  I was on spring break, staying at Grandma and Grandpa's, when we got the phone call that he had a heart attack and died.  That was March 19th, 32 years ago, when she lost her only child, my dad.  Then, March 17th, less than two years from the anniversary of dad's death, my grandpa died.  As I sat at my desk earlier today, sobbing after my brother had texted me that she had passed, I realized it was March 18th in Indiana.  I don't think it was any accident that she died the very date between the two most important men in her life.   It was perfect, and beautiful, and heartbreaking to realize this.  I had to leave school early.

Something else that is true to my relationship with Grandma, she was very, very intuitive.  She was especially tuned in to me.  If I had an argument with my husband, if I was sad or upset, in the heat of the moment, more often than not, the phone would ring.  I would pick up, and it would be Grandma, crying, fretting, blurting out, "What's wrong? Something's wrong, I just know it. Tell me what's happening.  Are you okay?"  I typically would say, "How do you know, Grandma?"  rather than even answering the phone with a "hello."  I knew it was her, as much as she knew what was happening with me.  That is how deep and powerful our connection has been for fifty years of my life.  It was so uncanny, and yet it was so comforting at the same time.

As I have spent this evening alone, here in my apartment in Beijing, I have been reminded of all the ways that she is such a part of me.  Her death feels like a part of me went with her.  She was my role model.  She was my rock.  My Grandma was my everything, my world, in some ways even more than a parent to me.

So much of who I am, is tied up in her.  I have her eyes; her eyes were nearly yellow with a blue/green ring.  Our eyes both sparkle when we are happy, and they 'flash' when we get angry.  I got 'the look' from her. The red in my hair was from her, and I definitely got her dancing gene!  We both love music, we love to dance, we love to laugh.  Grandma was a pillar of strength- the strongest woman I have ever known- physically, mentally, and spiritually. (She could still pop a bicep well in to her 90's!) Emotionally, she would cry at the commercials of abused animals.  I do the same, as do my girls, Emily and Ellen. None of us girls could ever understand how a person could abuse an animal. Our pets are our babies.  My grandpa always said if he died first, and if there was such a thing as reincarnation, he wanted to come back as one of Grandma's poodles :)  Well, today he got to greet her with a kiss once again, just as he always did, and he was likely holding Skuffie, their gray poodle, as he often did.  I am sure he immediately wrapped her in his arms and swung her around the dance floor after so many, many years of waiting.  She is happy tonight, I am certain.

My Grandma modeled to me that there is life after divorce.  She left an abusive marriage with a three year old little boy, and hopped a train out of state to make a fresh start. This was back in an era where there were few divorces, there were even fewer opportunities for women in the world of work, and no man would ever want a woman who already had a child.  That is, until she met my Grandpa, who adopted my dad when he was five.  They were perfect for each other, and the loving example of a marriage I needed as a child.

By example, she taught me that I can do anything I set my mind to.  She taught me that attitude is everything; that it is important to have a good attitude, to be positive, to be happy.  It was Grandma who taught me to choose happy.  "There's no sense in crying over spilled milk," she would say. After a bit of sadness, either hers or mine, she would say, "that's enough crying for now, it's time to get busy," which usually meant I would follow her into the kitchen and we would make something together. Usually it was a sugar pie, and all of my children have some to love Grandma's sugar pies.  I am so happy to have that legacy of making sugar pies to share with them.

It was my grandma who taught me to cook, "from scratch, none of that boxed stuff."  I am so thankful now to have so many of her recipes written by her own hand.  Granted, some are hard to decipher, like 'a hunk of butter the size of an egg', or a 'half an egg shell of vinegar', but that's how she learned to cook on the farm.  Over time, I learned to cook the same way. She also taught me the importance of keeping a good home, and that a woman can do it all- work, cook, clean, and take care of her family.  "A house is make of sticks and stones, but a home is made of love alone."  This sign hung in her kitchen, and then it hung in mine.  Now it is in a box in storage, until I am settled once again. She would say that cleaning, washing and ironing clothes, making good meals, was how she showed her love. She did it all, and I tried to be just like her.  When I married Donnie, and had all five children at home, in spite of working, I tried to do it all, just like the example Grandma had set.

I remember as a child I would wake up at Grandma's house to the smell of coffee brewing for my Grandpa.  I would go searching for her in the house, and typically she was already outside- hanging laundry on the line, or working in her garden. I would also feel her come into my bedroom many times through the night to 'check on me'. She would kiss me, touch me, cover me up.  Most times I would pretend to be asleep, or I would rouse to her touch.  It felt so good to be so loved; I never minded her late night wanderings through the house.  She and I are both light sleepers. When I would and find her outside, barely after sunrise, I remember thinking, "Does Grandma ever sleep!?"  Today, she can finally rest easy.

Grandma loved the early mornings. She loved when the house was quiet, when the dew was still on the grass.  She loved to watch the sunrise with coffee, and to toast the sunset with a cocktail.  She taught me that every sunrise is the promise of a new day, to make a fresh start.  She taught me to make it count.  She taught me to appreciate the sunset, and to thank God for another beautiful day.  I have watched sunsets all my life because of her.  I never take for granted the opportunity to see the sun set.  Most days, when I am home, I watch the sun set from my apartment window in Beijing.  It is my time to reflect on the day, to thank God for His many blessings, just as she taught me to do by example.  She also taught me to never go to bed angry at the ones I love.  She said it was important to say, "I love you" and "I'm sorry" and "Good night" to the ones you love.  It was good advice, the best advice, really.  Sadly, I could not always live by that one, but I would try to begin the next day with a fresh start.  She was a far better person than me in that regard.

I get my stubbornness, my sass, and my driven nature from my grandma.  My Ellie bug got those genes, too, God love her.  It's funny, that is a phrase my Grandma said ALL the time... "God love it"(her/him/them).  Both Emily and Ellen sound just like their great Grandma when they say the same thing.  Like Grandma, we are a sucker for all baby animals- kittens, puppies, calves, fawns, colts, baby goats....baby anything....we can't see one, or hold one, or pet one, without saying, "God love it," just as Grandma would do.  My home would be filled with stray animals and hurt children.  I want to take them all in and just feed them and love on them, just like my Grandma did.

She and Grandpa both were such loving, giving people.  After Kent and I were born, I have no recollection of them ever taking a vacation just the two of them.  Every vacation included Kent and I, and we vacationed ALOT :) We camped and traveled all over the United States.  My love of the outdoors, and travelling, I no doubt got from my Grandma.  My first trip on an airplane was on a jet by myself.  I had been with my grandparents in Florida, and I had to fly home by myself at age 7 so I could return to school.  I became pen pals with the stewardess assigned to me, and we stayed in touch.  She would send me postcards from all over the world.  For a long time, I wanted to be a stewardess when I grew up.  It seemed like the perfect job.  The travel bug was instilled deeply in me.

More often than not, on those camping vacations we got to bring a friend.  My grandparents were almost disappointed if we didn't bring a friend.  That was just my grandparents. They always opened their home, their hearts, and their wallets to Kent and I (and also our friends).  I often picked my less fortunate friends to take trips with me because I knew their families didn't do such things.  If it was a back to school clothes shopping trip, Grandma bought clothes for them, too.  One of my friends got her front tooth broken as a child, and her family could not afford to fix it.  My grandma got a hold of my dad and insisted that he take my friend to the dentist to fix her tooth or she would do it herself. This girl and I found one another on FB after all these years, and she has a beautiful smile.  She remembered my family fixing her front tooth.  That was the example my Grandma set.

It was my Grandpa who instilled in me to thank a serviceman in uniform.  He wore his Army uniform proudly when he was sent out just after the bombing in Pearl Harbor.  Grandma fretted through three years of his service to our country during WWII. I still have his 'dream house' that he mailed to Grandma while he was stationed in Hawaii.  It was made of cardboard from matchbooks. He promised her he would build it for her when he got home from the war.  He did.  They built that home together in Baldwin, Michigan.  It was their dream house on the lake in the middle of the Manistee National Forest in northern Michigan.  That home, that forest, that lake, was my childhood sanctuary and playground.  The very best memories of my childhood are from that home.

My grandma kept scrapbooks of every trip we ever took- I got the 'scrapbook gene' from her, too. She gave me all of those scrapbooks when I was grown.  For her 90th birthday, I took her on a cruise. It was her first cruise ever.  She was turning 90, I turned 40, Emily turned 13, and Ellie was along for the ride :) We had a ball.  Grandma OWNED that cruise ship, and everybody called her "Grandma!" She and I both got wasted on margaritas on a sailboat ride back from Sting Ray City in Grand Cayman.  We both love a good margarita, "Here's to ya!" she'd say.  "Let's do it to it!" and her most famous line..."Don't do anything I wouldn't do", and then she'd whisper, "That leaves the door wide open!"  I gave her a scrapbook of our trip after we got home.

My grandma loved to laugh, I mean, she really loved to laugh.  "I get so tickled sometimes", she would say. She would laugh until she cried tears. Emily and Ellen and I all do the same.  My grandma just loved to have a good time.  She and Grandpa had 'the gang' of their friends at the lakes, and they would host cocktail parties, and their home would be filled with music and laughter.  When they moved to Texas, they found a new 'gang', and the cocktail party tradition continued.  She out lived all of her friends.  Having to put Grandma in a nursing home at 97 was rough. We'd sneak a cocktail in to her every now and then, and she'd get that sparkle in her eye knowing she was getting away with something! "Here's to ya!", she'd say.  My Grandma was a corker.

I think of all the things she taught me as a child and young adult. My Grandma taught me to swim at the lakes.  Grandpa rowed the boat along side us both, as I dog paddled across the lake.  As kids, we couldn't swim unattended until we could swim over to the Gable's floating dock.  Grandma never left my side, but she never grabbed me to keep me from sinking either, though I wanted her to.  She just kept swimming and telling me I could do it. It was my first lesson from her in not giving in, and not giving up.  My first lesson on a sailboat was up at the lakes with Grandma, too, on a little Sunfish. Hunting for morel mushrooms always happened with Grandma and Grandpa, at about this time of year.  We would fill potato sacks with mushrooms!  Looking for deer in the woods was also a favorite past time for us both, too.  We'd see them a lot up at the lakes.  To this day, I still get a thrill when I see a deer.  Emily and Ellen do, too- they got the 'deer gene' from their great Grandma :)

As I walked home today from school, I walked past the Chinese preschool in my neighborhood.  It was nearly 70 degrees this afternoon in Beijing, and the little kiddies were out playing.  I stopped to watch them for a time, and I had a distant memory come back to me...

For many years, on Easter Sunday, (which is just a few weeks away), after church Grandma & Grandpa, Mom & Dad, and Kent & I would drive to Chinatown in Chicago for Easter dinner. It's funny to me now, knowing that the Chinese don't celebrate Easter, but that's just what we did- for several years it was a tradition.  I remember being enchanted by all the red lanterns and Chinese decorations.  I felt like I was in another country.  It was so different from Nappanee, Indiana, the predominantly Amish little town I grew up in.  I remember Grandma always took me shopping after dinner.  I would get a Chinese fan, a jade turtle, or some other Chinese trinket.  I told her I wanted to start a collection of something, but I didn't know what I wanted to collect (besides the seashells and rocks that filled my bedroom- also like my Elliebug, lol).  In Chinatown, I found the most beautiful China doll.  I knew then and there I wanted to start a doll collection. The China doll was my first 'collector's doll'- not like the Barbies I played with as a child.  For my next birthday, my grandparents bought me a beautiful glass cabinet that matched my bedroom furniture, and it was where I displayed my dolls in all the years following. That summer's camping trip with Grandma and Grandpa was to the Badlands, and I got an 'Indian doll' from the reservation. That was the second doll in my cabinet.

I watched those babies playing in the schoolyard this afternoon, and I thought, "They are cute as little China dolls"  ...and here I am now, living in China.

Life is funny like that.

Grandma, I will love you forever.  You are such a part of me, how could I not?

Thank you. For everything.  All of it.  You were the best.

Rest easy.

Day 195 Spring is springing at Sculpture Park

It's starting to look and feel like spring in Beijing, so on
Sunday afternoon, I decided to take a walk in Sculpture
Park which is right next to our apartment complex.
I had only been there once, early last fall, when I joined
some old folks that had gathered for some aerobicise  :)

This time they were practicing their Tai Chi,

which I know nothing about- not yet, anyways ;)

Sculpture Park reminds me a lot of Millennium Park in Chicago,
which is one of my favorite places to go.

The Chinese love their fish.  I see people walking with bags
of goldfish all the time....so much so, I have often wondered if
they eat the damn things (like Cousin Eddie and squirrels ;)

I LOVED this one- "Whales."  Pretty cool if you ask me :)

Sometimes, the Chinglish translation doesn't quite make it.
This one was called "Rocky Roll."  It made me giggle.

Very few shrubs and trees are flowering yet, except for
these little yellow ones.  I asked one of my Chinese teacher
friends what the flower is called.  His answer?
"Oh, that one is called 'first flower'."  Of course it is.
Kind of like our crocuses back home, only different.

Something else that makes me giggle is seeing random
Chinese women climbing into the shrubbery to strike
even more random and ridiculous poses :)
Lolllllzzzz.  Every. Single. Time.
She had an audience of people snapping her pic- geesh.

Many people took advantage of the warmer weather
(nearly 60 degrees) to practice their instruments in the
park.  I saw many guitars, a saxophone, a trombone,
and several traditional Chinese instruments.  They weren't
playing for tips; they were simply playing for enjoyment.
Any day I get to hear live music is a good day :)

I stopped and video'd this husband and wife. He played

some type of traditional Chinese flute, and she sang

along.  I don't know what it was about them; the fact 

they they were an older couple, or maybe that they

shared the love of music together, or maybe it was

simply the joy on their faces...whatever it was,

all of a sudden, I was moved to tears.  It was a 

beautiful moment.  I didn't know the right Mandarin

words to say, but my smile and hug to the both of 

them hopefully communicated my sentiment.

Some days I love Beijing.

The park has several ponds, with paddle boats and such.  I watched this boy
play with his remote control boat for several minutes.  You know me, any
time I see a boat, any kind of boat, it is sure to make this girlie smile :)

This pond had these crazy blow up toys that the kids played in-
like log rolling, only different.  What if they fell in? That water is still COLD!

Underneath the Pegasus statue (above, right) was a grove of Magnolia trees.
I didn't notice the trees at first, as I was distracted by the 30 or so Chinese
people with their cameras on tripods.  I couldn't figure out what they were
doing, until I saw one of them take their camera up to a tree branch.
They were all watching and waiting for the magnolias to begin opening
up in the afternoon sun.  Something so simple, and yet so beautiful.
I love how the Chinese live their lives so fully present in the moment.

This sculpture is called "A Beautiful Life".  Yes, yes, it is indeed :)

I think all the Chinese children are beautiful.  These little
electric cars are for rent to cruise around the park :)

I don't even know what this little girl was riding, but it was also some
sort of electric toy.  It moved like an inchworm, kind of looked
like a sheep, but had a Hello Kitty face.  There's just plain weird in China, too.

There's a huge open area specifically for flying kites.
You can rent a kite for the afternoon if you don't own one.
Many people own kites in China; they love to fly kites :)

Again, the simple pleasure of a father and daughter 
flying a kite together moved me to tears.  Beautiful :)

A little boy running in circles trying to get his kite to launch made me smile, too.
Actually, I saw many of these 'multiple kites' high in the sky.  It does work!

I can think of no better way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

It beats grading papers any day:)

G'nite, y'all!