The first sound I heard this morning was the sound of the wind bending the branches of the 30 meter tall fir tree across the street. Wind blasts made the window vibrate and hum. The next was my dog, barking, alerting me to it! She, like many animals, is spooked by the wind.
We gathered in the front of the room that we are doing our rehearsal every Thursday nights, waiting for others to come. Suddenly, a Japanese red dog with her owner paused in the front of us and looked at me. I am very friendly with animals. I waved my hand to her and say: “Hi!” Her owner, a young Japanese man, when saw she wants to stay with us, just paused a little while. The dog’s name was Tujo. She showed interest to smell all of us, and then she became interested to the room that we practiced in. I held the door open to help her smell, and she became more fascinated to enter. But her lash was in the hand of her owner. He didn’t let she goes in. I looked at her from the above. She was quiet look like a red fox, just with a thinner tail. What a beauty she had. I couldn’t stop admire her beauty of the shape and the colour and the fur. She insisted to go in. I don’t know; maybe because of the sound of the piano or the smell of the kettle or the coffee. Who knows? She backed to her owner and started pleading as a child to let her goes in. It was amazing. Like a child, she begged; she barked, she hanged; all in vain. I couldn’t stand to see her suffer of being understood by human. I just entered to the room and closed the door.
I pulled down my window blinds and made sure that the sunlight wont reach my eyes.Sleeping in the morning is a real hustle even if I am tired from working graveyard shift.After few hours of sleeping,just when I was about to save a princess from a giant teddy bear,-Celine Dion woke me up.My sister loves her and she just couldn't stop singing her songs-specially the one that she sang for the movie Titanic-even at 8 o'clock in the morning.The Magic Mic Karaoke was on high volume and was pounding on every wall.Every time the high notes arrives, my sister, will shout her heart out, up to her scrounging lungs, just to get a 99 score-or maybe just to piss me off, because I didn't wash the dishes the previous night. I came out of my bed,with my eyebrows crossing each other, and a face that not a single painter could paint.I went straight to her, grabbed the Magic Mic from her hands and turned it off.But my sister,as she is since we were young,simply smiled at me and said,"I'm sorry,make sure to wash the dishes later,ok?" My father had been telling me when he was still alive, that I should never to talk back to my older sisters, and I promised him that I wouldn't. So,remembering the oath that I made to my father, I went straight back to my bed wore an earplug, and hoped to regain my interrupted rescue dream- also, I wished to see my dad in my dream,so I could tell him that I want to take my promise back.
I went to my Mother's place yesterday to take my plane ticket to Philippines. I was about to leave and was already outside her door,when she called out my name.I went back inside her apartment,and all of a sudden, she gave me a hug.I could feel the warmth of her arms, and the softness of her chest.It has been a long time since the last time I've felt secured.It was there,-in my Mothers arms-the safest place on earth, at least for me.She kissed me on the cheek and her lipstick left a mark. It has really been a while, I thought to myself.She asked me to stay for dinner, and of course, I did. I couldn't deny the tender aroma of the dish she was cooking. It smells familiar. She prepared it on the table, put its final touches and spices,then it was ready.My favorite, Tilapia cooked in coconut milk with pineapples and some other vegetables and spices.Oh, how I wish that I am still young and still needs my Mother's help.
This is my online notebook, i hope u like it...^^* ____________________________________ Lately, news can’t seem to talk about Obama won the election. Yeah! Obama won~ it’s kind of tiring to hear Obama won. I know, I know it’s great to have Obama, the first, and only African-American won the election. But sometimes I want to shout, “It’s over people~ I want to hear some “fresh” news, or not about Obama would be better.”
The sky train stopped and the door opened. A drunkard tumbled in and dropped on a seat.
A blast wave of stink spread over. The smell of alcohol mixed with the cigarette was almost choked me.
An old lady left away first, and then the others. After the bombardment, a big empty “hole” formed around this drunk. Soon later, he slept soundly, snoring like bulldog.
At the next station, two policemen came in and “helped“ him off. Obviously someone had pressed the silent alarm on the wagon.
I opened the window, and the room immediately was filled with fragrance of fresh roses and mixed evergreen sent by tender breeze. A grey squirrel was playing an acorn on the grass while a black one was eating an acorn on the branch of an old oak tree.
There is a chinese old saying: "Good fortune lies within Bad, Bad fortune lurks within good." Today, I experieced it again.
My wife and I just came back from a restaurant that it's a kind of all-you-can-eat. They provide my favorite--fresh oyster and sashimi. They ate so well that I had a lot. Lately, I paid the price much much more than the restaurant required because I have gone to the washroom six times within one hour since we got home. Oh, my dear fresh oyster and sashim! You guys look so lovely, but you lie within Bad.
Canada was a good country, Corlee used to think in this way. But she failed to understand why this country had to recruit so many immigrants. Since when there were Asians, East Europeans, Indians and Middle East people everywhere, especially, so many Chinese.
“I like Chinese.” Corlee husband, Bob used to say so, and he meant it. Three years ago, a Chinese girl rented their basement. Their tenement was so young, at least looked so young, skinny and humble.
“This chick needs more fat,” Corlee once joked with her husband, “I’m afraid that she’d be blew away by wind like a kite,” and she just laughed. “What does she eat? Grass only!” whenever Corlee saw her groceries, she couldn’t help thinking this way.
“I’m kind of like Chinese eating style; we’ve taken too much fat,” Bob once suggested.
“No, you don’t,” Corlee stopped him, “I don’t like skinny man, I don't want to have sex with any Chinese, what’s the fun of climbing on a piece of stem, ha, ha, ha . . .” Corlee was amused by herself and didn’t notice the resentful look from Bob.
Six months later, Bob moved out that Chinese girl. He left their house and all money to Corlee and her son. When Corlee went back to home, there was a note on the table said “Sorry, Corlee, I really enjoy Chinese food and climbing on a piece of stem.”
Corlee’s weight started increasing ever since then, although she wasn’t slim before. She chose to drink full fat milk, eat a lot of meat and the candies, like this was the only way she could revenge her husband and that Chinese bitch. There were more and more Chinese moved into her street, she never talked with any of them. Sometimes, she was green with envy when she saw her neighbours—a Chinese couple walking on street hands in hands.
Corlee stepped into her forty-two this year. Once she found out her wedding ring, this only valuable thing her marriage left her and tired to put on her fingers. It didn't work at all, even on the little finger. Her red hair reached her waist and some gray strips mixed in them. Her weight was almost 300 pounds, wearing her favourite red shirt printed with little flowers; she just looked like a big, hot balloon. (To be continued)
The sun already set, but in the end of the sky still shone like a wild fire, especially the section of long belt between horizon and the thick gray clouds. The figures of the forest were silhouetted against the setting sun, dark, ragged, and mysterious. The picture looked like a cartoon—exaggerated, simply, and lovely.
Although I have been to Central Park many times, I’m still fascinated by its beautiful view, silent atmosphere and fresh air. There are thousands of tall and thick trees with vast shrubbery and stretched lawn in the park. Several neat trails wind through the park. Two of the ponds are inlaid in the ground of the park, like two big green gems, crystal-clear and sparkling. The colorful leaves and grass glisten with dewdrops, and the forest is filled with mist in the early morning. The view of the park looks like a green and mysterious paradise. It is a still park. People can easily distinguish the sound of squirrels climbing trees or birds flying from leaves. The melodious sounds of birds singing break the silence of the forest occasionally. I feel relaxed from my head to foot in the silent and natural atmosphere. I usually make deep breath in this “Natural Oxygen Bar” while I am walking around the park. I like to sniff the fragrant smell which is a mixture of trees, grass, flowers and soil in the park. I think Central Park is an ideal place to nourish and recover my physical and mental force.
We cruising along the New Westminster quayside; the air was chilly and cold. The cloud was still hovering above; the wind is blowing on my cheek. We are looking aimlessly at the Fraser River. A little black dot floating on the river attracts his attention.
“Look, it is a seal” My husband cheered.
“A Seal, I can’t believe it” I echoed.
We focused on the little dot on the surface of the Fraser River, searching desperately the confirmation of that creature.
``It could be a piece of floating wood`` I doubted.
It jumped up and leaped its body back into the water; a fraction of its tail appeared on the water surface.
``Watch the tail! It is really a seal `` I cried loud.
The dark cloud was cracked open by a gleam of sunlight, it shined on the busy Pattullo Bridge, like portrait again the dark cloudy sky behind it; I watch the bridge and how it became dimmer with the sunset.
Former adult teacher who loves island beaches. Happy homebody and family man; once devoted dog owner, now without Tashi, my Tibetan Terrier. I prefer the absurdity of the imagination to the absurdity of imagining nothing.
13 comments:
The first sound I heard this morning was the sound of the wind bending the branches of the 30 meter tall fir tree across the street. Wind blasts made the window vibrate and hum. The next was my dog, barking, alerting me to it! She, like many animals, is spooked by the wind.
We gathered in the front of the room that we are doing our rehearsal every Thursday nights, waiting for others to come. Suddenly, a Japanese red dog with her owner paused in the front of us and looked at me. I am very friendly with animals. I waved my hand to her and say: “Hi!”
Her owner, a young Japanese man, when saw she wants to stay with us, just paused a little while. The dog’s name was Tujo. She showed interest to smell all of us, and then she became interested to the room that we practiced in. I held the door open to help her smell, and she became more fascinated to enter. But her lash was in the hand of her owner. He didn’t let she goes in. I looked at her from the above. She was quiet look like a red fox, just with a thinner tail. What a beauty she had. I couldn’t stop admire her beauty of the shape and the colour and the fur. She insisted to go in. I don’t know; maybe because of the sound of the piano or the smell of the kettle or the coffee. Who knows? She backed to her owner and started pleading as a child to let her goes in. It was amazing. Like a child, she begged; she barked, she hanged; all in vain. I couldn’t stand to see her suffer of being understood by human. I just entered to the room and closed the door.
I pulled down my window blinds and made sure that the sunlight wont reach my eyes.Sleeping in the morning is a real hustle even if I am tired from working graveyard shift.After few hours of sleeping,just when I was about to save a princess from a giant teddy bear,-Celine Dion woke me up.My sister loves her and she just couldn't stop singing her songs-specially the one that she sang for the movie Titanic-even at 8 o'clock in the morning.The Magic Mic Karaoke was on high volume and was pounding on every wall.Every time the high notes arrives, my sister, will shout her heart out, up to her scrounging lungs, just to get a 99 score-or maybe just to piss me off, because I didn't wash the dishes the previous night. I came out of my bed,with my eyebrows crossing each other, and a face that not a single painter could paint.I went straight to her, grabbed the Magic Mic from her hands and turned it off.But my sister,as she is since we were young,simply smiled at me and said,"I'm sorry,make sure to wash the dishes later,ok?" My father had been telling me when he was still alive, that I should never to talk back to my older sisters, and I promised him that I wouldn't. So,remembering the oath that I made to my father, I went straight back to my bed wore an earplug, and hoped to regain my interrupted rescue dream- also, I wished to see my dad in my dream,so I could tell him that I want to take my promise back.
I went to my Mother's place yesterday to take my plane ticket to Philippines. I was about to leave and was already outside her door,when she called out my name.I went back inside her apartment,and all of a sudden, she gave me a hug.I could feel the warmth of her arms, and the softness of her chest.It has been a long time since the last time I've felt secured.It was there,-in my Mothers arms-the safest place on earth, at least for me.She kissed me on the cheek and her lipstick left a mark. It has really been a while, I thought to myself.She asked me to stay for dinner, and of course, I did. I couldn't deny the tender aroma of the dish she was cooking. It smells familiar.
She prepared it on the table, put its final touches and spices,then it was ready.My favorite, Tilapia cooked in coconut milk with pineapples and some other vegetables and spices.Oh, how I wish that I am still young and still needs my Mother's help.
This is my online notebook, i hope u like it...^^*
____________________________________
Lately, news can’t seem to talk about Obama won the election. Yeah! Obama won~ it’s kind of tiring to hear Obama won. I know, I know it’s great to have Obama, the first, and only African-American won the election. But sometimes I want to shout, “It’s over people~ I want to hear some “fresh” news, or not about Obama would be better.”
The sky train stopped and the door opened. A drunkard tumbled in and dropped on a seat.
A blast wave of stink spread over. The smell of alcohol mixed with the cigarette was almost
choked me.
An old lady left away first, and then the others. After the bombardment, a big empty
“hole” formed around this drunk. Soon later, he slept soundly, snoring like bulldog.
At the next station, two policemen came in and “helped“ him off. Obviously someone had pressed the silent alarm on the wagon.
I opened the window, and the room immediately was filled with fragrance of fresh roses and mixed evergreen sent by tender breeze. A grey squirrel was playing an acorn on the grass while a black one was eating an acorn on the branch of an old oak tree.
There is a chinese old saying: "Good fortune lies within Bad, Bad fortune lurks within good." Today, I experieced it again.
My wife and I just came back from a restaurant that it's a kind of all-you-can-eat. They provide my favorite--fresh oyster and sashimi. They ate so well that I had a lot. Lately, I paid the price much much more than the restaurant required because I have gone to the washroom six times within one hour since we got home. Oh, my dear fresh oyster and sashim! You guys look so lovely, but you lie within Bad.
Canada was a good country, Corlee used to think in this way. But she failed to understand why this country had to recruit so many immigrants. Since when there were Asians, East Europeans, Indians and Middle East people everywhere, especially, so many Chinese.
“I like Chinese.” Corlee husband, Bob used to say so, and he meant it. Three years ago, a Chinese girl rented their basement. Their tenement was so young, at least looked so young, skinny and humble.
“This chick needs more fat,” Corlee once joked with her husband, “I’m afraid that she’d be blew away by wind like a kite,” and she just laughed. “What does she eat? Grass only!” whenever Corlee saw her groceries, she couldn’t help thinking this way.
“I’m kind of like Chinese eating style; we’ve taken too much fat,” Bob once suggested.
“No, you don’t,” Corlee stopped him, “I don’t like skinny man, I don't want to have sex with any Chinese, what’s the fun of climbing on a piece of stem, ha, ha, ha . . .” Corlee was amused by herself and didn’t notice the resentful look from Bob.
Six months later, Bob moved out that Chinese girl. He left their house and all money to Corlee and her son. When Corlee went back to home, there was a note on the table said “Sorry, Corlee, I really enjoy Chinese food and climbing on a piece of stem.”
Corlee’s weight started increasing ever since then, although she wasn’t slim before. She chose to drink full fat milk, eat a lot of meat and the candies, like this was the only way she could revenge her husband and that Chinese bitch. There were more and more Chinese moved into her street, she never talked with any of them. Sometimes, she was green with envy when she saw her neighbours—a Chinese couple walking on street hands in hands.
Corlee stepped into her forty-two this year. Once she found out her wedding ring, this only valuable thing her marriage left her and tired to put on her fingers. It didn't work at all, even on the little finger. Her red hair reached her waist and some gray strips mixed in them. Her weight was almost 300 pounds, wearing her favourite red shirt printed with little flowers; she just looked like a big, hot balloon. (To be continued)
The Sunglow
The sun already set, but in the end of the sky still shone like a wild fire, especially the section of long belt between horizon and the thick gray clouds. The figures of the forest were silhouetted against the setting sun, dark, ragged, and mysterious. The picture looked like a cartoon—exaggerated, simply, and lovely.
-55 words
My favorite place—Central Park
Although I have been to Central Park many times, I’m still fascinated by its beautiful view, silent atmosphere and fresh air. There are thousands of tall and thick trees with vast shrubbery and stretched lawn in the park. Several neat trails wind through the park. Two of the ponds are inlaid in the ground of the park, like two big green gems, crystal-clear and sparkling. The colorful leaves and grass glisten with dewdrops, and the forest is filled with mist in the early morning. The view of the park looks like a green and mysterious paradise. It is a still park. People can easily distinguish the sound of squirrels climbing trees or birds flying from leaves. The melodious sounds of birds singing break the silence of the forest occasionally. I feel relaxed from my head to foot in the silent and natural atmosphere. I usually make deep breath in this “Natural Oxygen Bar” while I am walking around the park. I like to sniff the fragrant smell which is a mixture of trees, grass, flowers and soil in the park. I think Central Park is an ideal place to nourish and recover my physical and mental force.
We cruising along the New Westminster quayside; the air was chilly and cold. The cloud was still hovering above; the wind is blowing on my cheek. We are looking aimlessly at the Fraser River. A little black dot floating on the river attracts his attention.
“Look, it is a seal” My husband cheered.
“A Seal, I can’t believe it” I echoed.
We focused on the little dot on the surface of the Fraser River, searching desperately the confirmation of that creature.
``It could be a piece of floating wood`` I doubted.
It jumped up and leaped its body back into the water; a fraction of its tail appeared on the water surface.
``Watch the tail! It is really a seal `` I cried loud.
The dark cloud was cracked open by a gleam of sunlight, it shined on the busy Pattullo Bridge, like portrait again the dark cloudy sky behind it; I watch the bridge and how it became dimmer with the sunset.
163 words
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