I just made the lamb noodle sauce with Grandma’s recipe. It brought up a lot memories.
Like the summer when we were visiting grandma and grandpa at their old house. Everyone was there: My dad, my mom, my two cousins: one at 9, the other at 6. Grandpa loved to gardening. We had a front yard full of fruit trees and this little area at the east corner with fresh seasonal vegetables. We liked to all sit in the yard before it gets dark, open a watermelon, and ate with heck a lot of mess. The smell of fresh fruit, of tree leaves burning in the sun, of dirt splashed by dropped juice, those are the smell of Summer to me, of sun, and of happiness.
It was at that summer when I fell in love with grandma’s lamb sauce noodle. I guess my little cousin boy felt that same. He asked grandma what she put in there to make it taste so awesome. Grandma smiled and said “I put effort in.” He asked:”What ingredient is ‘effort’? I’ve never heard of that!” Then we all laughed. He was the little naughty one who always caused troubles, but I loved him to death. We sneaked out and swam in the drowning river, walked across half of the city to see our newborn nephew without telling anyone, and every time we got caught, he was always trying to take all responsibilities as he is “the man”.
My dad was in a pretty good mood that summer as I can remember. He’s the captain of our kids. He sat us around in the yard under the starry sky and told us amazing stories in ancient history. He laid in the grass with us near the river, and together we sang loudly in the wild. One day, he all of sudden, opened both of his arms pretending he’s a plane, running and jumping across the yard like a kid himself. He had such a young heart within him. He had so much to share.
That was my happiest summer ever! That was 15 years ago. Gosh. Everyone’s face, their voices, are so clear like they’re ironed in my brain just yesterday.
I had no doubt that I’m going to have that summer again, or even a better one, and I’m going to meet everyone soon. Of course! Who would doubt that! But never again were we able to gather together missing no one. Never again were we able to laugh so hard and so much in that yard with no fear and no scare.
Grandpa passed away 2 years later. A few years later, I met my cousin once, that happy and genuine boy, suffering from severe seizure, became so quiet. He never spoke to me for one sentence that time. Then he seems disappeared from my life. I remember I cried so hard after seeing him wondering where did my little hero went. Little did I know that it is only the start of life’s brutal deprivation.
I wasn’t able to get back to that house till my dad’s funeral. All the trees were dead. All the flowers withered. So did the happiest, most loving part of my life. Everything became different from that moment. You thought nothing bad is going to happen to you. Then Boom! The worst!
Then it’s my grandma, laid in the same place. Dead. All of a sudden. With me still thinking to bring her here this summer as my dad wished when he’s already badly sick. With me still have to remind myself when I cooked the lamb sauce that this women who I loved so deeply, who cared and loved me the same, disappeared forever and will never return.
Life is such a heartless thief, sneaking around taking things away without a sound. When you’re still drowned in your precious memories, when you’re planning your future hard, and when you’re hoping to love them more tomorrow, you’re, with no warning, depraved of the chance of doing so. Then you’re left with only the regret and a lifetime agony.
Nothing I can do for the passed ones. I’m just missing you all so much!
Sometimes, a tiny action feels so significant to change life, or change the eye that looks at it.
Maybe I cannot be a knight, a wise, brave and fanatical knight, marching vigorously to his castle of ideal. Then let me be my own poet, singing my minds softly but firmly. Let my emotion floats to somewhere tranquil and clean in a rosy new world.
Maybe I can never understand life, or maybe I don’t even want to. Then let me open my heart to all darkness and beauties of the world, to touch and feel the subtle joy and sadness that fulfill the thirst of life’s most greed, and when I encounter them, I want to sit down quietly, record them with a smile.
Maybe that’s where my enthusiasm sits, not on any visible and specific goal, but on the process of living in and experiencing; not to change a bit of it, but to let them in to enrich my vision and complete my heart. I don’t mind to be less pragmatic, but to let my wildest dream grows.
Revolution doesn’t happen always with massive and sudden destruction. I’d rather take time, breath in, and build it slowly with a graceful attitude.
For what’s the best, there’s always the hope and the tomorrow.
“Ah the salvations of souls
But wisdom we had not
For these people had neither king nor lord
And bowed to no one
For they have lived in their own liberty
It’s such a delight to watch them dance
Free of sacrifice and romance
Free of all the things that we hold dear
Is that clear Your Excellency?
And I guess it’s time to go but
I gotta send you just a few more lines
From the New World”
What happened?! It’s almost September?! That sounds aweful!
But you know what, i’m liking the gloomy days with a little drizzle these days. summer has been boiling, sweaty and twitchy. some chilly breeze is much wanted. i don’t see falling leaves here, but i remember back home, the street will be covered with crispy dry leaves in Oct. and i’d put on my warm hat and boots stepping on them purposely to hear them cracking and die. i know, it’s still early for falling leaves, but i can smell them already, and i cannot wait for the cold season to come.
my timeline this year has pretty much followed the seasonal change. a stressful, boiling and somehow filthy summer. changes, decisions, struggles, one after another, jittering and exciting, but it’s about time to rest and move on.
winter means a lot to me, or meant, before i moved to somewhere that has no winter said. it means putting on layers of clothes, and with layers of clothes comes the easier way to dress in a better manner. it means hot soup, steamy hot. picturing a hot soup in my mind brings so much warmth and comfort, and most of the time, in that picture, there’s always a family sitting around a table sharing that big bowl of steamy hot soup, next to them, a fireplace with dancing flame. it means snow, people cuddle in blankets, reading, digging in old pictures, or doing nothing but staring at the beautiful falling snow. plenty of time to think, and plan for next summer. i like it when time slows down, and i’m not pushed to the next mission. i’d enjoy some time with family and friends, chatting, with no one hurries to the next party. i’d read a book quietly, take down some notes, drink hot tea, and with layers of clothes, no one would even know how i look like. attention is on the substance. that’s what i like about winter.
well, it’s the end of summer.
I’m suprised how quick and easy I recover from the trip this time, only that it left me with homesick. I miss the warmth, conformt, and ease of being with families and friends. But I had no time to even show grief to the good time before the chaos pours. It’s alright though. It will probably turn a new page for me.
I turn to poem and 60′s music to slow down the time. Hippie was born in the 60′s, followed by the punk in 70′s. What not to love about that era. Flare jeans, long hair, flowers, boots, blurred stare, these elements pirece my brain. I have to hold my breath sometimes to control the excitment.
Just because I’m listening to a lot of Jim Morrison these days, I have to post some pictures of Pam: A gorgeous girl, a dedicated lover, and a true Hippie. Also died of 27.
I couldn’t help stare at below picture several times today. Somehow, it reminded me of a lot beautiful things, and calmed me down.
I think it’s sending the message of the true spirit of Hippie: Peace, love, and happiness.
It’s one of those days when I turned on computer with my morning coffee and realized the next day means something big in somebody’s life that I almost missed. Of course. The same day every year.
I was stuck with work today, but finally got a little peaceful moment now to enjoy the quietness with the sound of the rain. What could be better?
I cannot get rid of this song of Adele right now. It brings in a lot memories. I’m one of those weird ones who enjoy a little bitter sweet in all love stories. “Sometime it lasts in love, but sometime it hurts instead.” I guess the beauty of love is not all about the happiness, but also about the hardness and sadness that make us grow and become the best of ourselves.
“My feeling towards you has lost its goal, therefore it gradually becomes a lasting journey which i’m taking effortlessly and quietly…Even if it turns to another direction, i won’t be regret, as i will survive anywhere along the way.” I read this before sleep. It’s refreshing and it eased my heart.
Enjoy the song. Enjoy love!
1999年，王菲的离婚被炒的沸沸扬扬。那张同年出版的《只爱陌生人》听起来全是对感情的无奈和伤感。她唱：“一个一个偶像，都不外如此。沉迷过的偶像，一个个消失”；她唱：“过眼云烟 好像每一朵云都是你的抱歉，别说再见 已经没有权利义务再去见面”；她唱：“都是因为一路上，大雨曾经滂沱 证明你有来过”； 她唱： “所以对你我未来从未失去期待，我相信你你就是爱，我只能让让你离开；突然间你连瞒都不瞒，想也不想就这麽推翻”。在她黔默的背后，是这样一首一首的歌。
那年我刚上高中，仿佛瞬间开始变的沉默。开始看卡夫卡和杜拉斯，开始接触摇滚，开始喜欢长发披肩的男人和女人，开始和前排的人没完没了的讨论人生价值，仿佛生活可以真的通过脑中的逻辑变的可以理喻些。那时我喜欢趴在3楼的阳台上看下面穿着一模一样校服的人蚂蚁一样行色匆匆。我记得高二的一节体育课，我和朋友坐在冷清清的操场上，听刚刚到手的《预言》，他忽然说 ：“什么王菲，什么高考，都他妈是扯淡！”我突然有种想哭的冲动。同年冬天，我喜欢的男孩去了一个阳光明媚的国度，我默默看着漫天纷飞的雪片和呼出的白气，感到了深深的无奈，我把这样的心情写了下来，题目就叫做《红豆》。“有时候 有时候，我会相信一切有尽头；相聚离开 都有时候，没有什么会永垂不朽。”
I know I have a lot to update for the busy yet exciting Nov. holiday weekend, and also Jackie’s back home week, but I’ll leave it for later, as today I have something more exciting to announce: the start (again) of Dressember!!
It means I’ll be wearing dresses everyday till next year! I mean, dresses, everyday, no skirt, no pants (of course), no one day off! But a lot accessories will be involved as poor me only owns a few dresses and I don’t want to get bored.
Credits are given to this great girl: Blythe Hill (http://blythehill.blogspot.com/) who came up with this neat idea, although I was hesitated to participate in the beginning : I was never a dress lady but a lazy lady. I’ll need to be really creative and brave during December, but I’m looking forward to it As part of the event, I’ll be posting pictures of me and my dresses, maybe not everyday, but often enough to prove I’m a rule keeper.
See me in a more feminine way! Ready?