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Writing 101, Day Two: A room with a View
Writing 101, Day Two: A room with a View
My Parents’ House
I remember that dream vividly…
I must be a high school kid, wearing a short sleeve white shirt, carrying a backpack. I climbed up a narrow staircase and entered a small room. A 30 year old man greeted me. Seeing me rubbing my hands, he asked if I was cold. I said yes. He gave me a sweater to wear and told me wait.
A short while later, he came back and said, “Time to go.”
I followed him walking downstairs, and then we walked next to each other. We were close, but not touching. I felt comfortable and peaceful. “Where are we going?” I asked.
“You’ll find out,” he said.
His body language told me that he was sure I would like the place we were going, and I trusted him. Next thing I knew, we were standing in front of a small yellow house. “What do you think?” he asked.
“I love it! You know I like small town, small house, small car…”
We stood there. I took another look at the house. It looked clean and simple. It was a cozy house. “I like it,” I said again.
“Your parents live here,” he said. My heart jumped out of my body. Before I could utter a word, he added, “They are not home. They are visiting friends now.”
I stared at the house, trying to remember every detail of it: the front porch, the color – what kind of yellow, the landscape…
A few minutes passed. “Ready to go?” he asked.
I nodded. That was when I realized that the house was located on high ground. There were stairs in front of it bringing you down to the street level. That was also when I noticed four people planting flowers next to the stairs. I smiled at them thinking I should thank them, but they seemed not seeing me.
We walked, and walked. Suddenly he stopped and pointed at my chest. I looked down, seeing a necklace with a beautiful pink angel pendant on it.
That was the end of my dream. It was five years after my parents passed away.
That is the place I want to visit!
Posted in Writing 101
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Thinking Back – The girl who claimed to be my husband’s mistress
(Writing 101, Day One: Unlock the Mind)
This is the first day of my Writing 101 class. We are supposed to free write 20 minutes. Since I just started this “Thinking Back” project, I decided to continue in that route.
Thinking Back – the girl who claimed to be my husband’s mistress
The phone rang while I was in kitchen washing vegetables.
“Mrs. Chen?”
She sounded like a teenager. I wondered if she was a volunteer at my daughter’s school. I tensed up. “Yes?”
“Umm… I…” She paused and continued a moment later. “Your husband and I love each other very much. Now that I am pregnant, we want to be together.”
I was relieved that the call had nothing to do with my daughter. My husband is seeing this young girl? I don’t think so. “I think you got the wrong number,” I said.
“You are Mrs. Chen, aren’t you?”
This is getting weird, I thought to myself. “So, what do you want from me?” I cautiously asked.
“We… your husband and I, would like your permission to get marry.”
“You really don’t need my permission, but if it makes you feel better –you got it. Good luck,” I said, still not convinced.
She blurted out several four-letter words, which assured me that my husband had nothing to do with her. “What is this? You wanted my permission and you got it. Why are you so angry?” I asked.
She uttered more four-letter words, and said, “You are supposed to feel sad, or get mad. What kind of woman are you? You husband is seeing another woman, for crying out loud. Don’t you have any feeling?”
“I do have feeling, and I am sad. But if that makes you and him happy, it’s two against one, so I am ok with it,” I said.
She hung up the phone.
After making that initial phone call, she called several times. Each time she told me she wanted to marry my husband, and each time I told her to go ahead, but leave me alone. Once she asked where my husband was. I said, “Maybe he is on his way to see you.” She cursed at me. Our conversations always ended with her slamming the phone.
Finally one day she called when my husband was home. “Honey, it’s for you.” I happily handed over the phone. I could hear my husband saying “Who are you?” “No, I don’t know you.” “What are you doing?”
We had not heard from her after that.
I always thought I had handled the call well. I wasn’t mad at either my husband or her. I wasn’t jealous. I was calm and reasonable, even though I might have a little too much fun.
Thinking back, I realize that that girl needed help. I wish I could spend time understanding her problem and helping her. ( I was young and not brave. And I didn’t have any training or experience in dealing with that situation.)
I have been thinking of her from time to time, hoping she turned out ok.
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HHC Blog
Harty started this! He posted “Coffee Break” saying he has been trying to revamp his blog. So I started thinking… yes, again.
Like I said before, I had been blogging often probably 10 years ago. At that time, I would write about anything: happy moments, sad moments, love, angry… etc. Then, I changed. I stopped sharing.
After my sister Karin passed away last year, after taking a 4-month break of doing nothing, I felt an urge to blog again, and this time, I knew exactly what I wanted to do: sharing life lessons and telling stories to entertain.
Then one day, I received an email saying Don Charisma is following my blog. Why? I am nobody! I hurried to Don’s website and read several articles. Don inspired me to get out of my comfortable place to meet bloggers.
What a great idea! I discovered 61 Musings, Cee’s Photography, De Wets Wild, Retiree Diary, Chris Breebaart Photography, Six Degrees Photography, Learning To Snap , Wandering Iris, meticulousmick, psychosomaticallyinlove, Enjoy Life Wherever We Are… and several others. Most of them are photographers; some writers; some both. Great people, I may add. I started participating photo challenge, and receive several “Likes”. I entered next challenge…
Seeing people’s great photos makes me happy. Every “Like” brings me a little more encouragement. I have a wonderful time. I haven’t been so happy for years. But I yearn for opportunity to learn more about photographing. “Like” brings encouragement, but doesn’t teach me how to be a better photographer. I appreciated when “Learning To Snap” took time answering my questions. I am also grateful for Cee’s photographing tips on her website. Still, something is missing. I need constructive feedbacks for my photos (If you know a site that provides this, please let me know.) And I know… it’s time to read those photograph books I bought many years ago.
Also, what about those writings I have planned to do? Well, I signed up for Writing 101: Building Blogging Habit. Starting tomorrow, I committed to write every day in June (I can be brave!). After that, I would try to write every Monday and maybe Friday.
Writing and photographing have to go together, I discover.
Thanks to Harty for inspiring me to write this.
Life is good when you have so many wonderful bloggers to follow. 😉
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Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge: Week 13
Four chairs against a wall in a church.
My husband and I visited our local Art Center one day. He brought his D700 and his wide angle lenses; I brought my iPhone. He took several pictures of some hanging art objects; I took one picture of a stack of chairs.
He doesn’t like to take pictures while we were sitting in the bus. He doesn’t like the reflection. But I do 😉
This is for Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge: Week 13
Posted in Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge, photo
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Visiting Minnesota Arboretum
I have never experienced such a miserable jet lag (or exhaustion from travel?). We flew back on Monday and it was until Friday that I started feeling ok. On Sat. trying to break the low energy cycle, we visited Minnesota Arboretum. It turned out to be a wonderful decision!
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Buying Happiness
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Ten years ago, after I visited Paris, friends asked if French people treated me all right. I told them yes. I told them I didn’t meet any unfriendly person in my trip. I was telling the truth.
On our recent trip, however, I had a different experience. At one restaurant in southern France, our waiter stood next to us, his chin pointing to a painting on the wall behind us. Whenever we spoke to him, he turned his head 45 degree, staring at something 10 feet away. When we stopped talking, he turned his head back, his chin still pointing to the painting. I had no idea how he managed to get our order right.
At a different restaurant in Southern France, when Wei asked our waiter a question about one particular wine, he replied, “You study the menu; I will come back.” And he never did. Later, when he brought Wei’s dinner to him, I was stunned. Everyone else in the group who ordered the same dish had several big chunks of beef in it, but Wei’s dish only contained the sauce and some beef strings.
For some reason, I decided to tip them anyway. To my surprise, the moment they had the tip in their hand, they changed to a totally different person. Their bodies relaxed; they looked quite charming; they even had a beautiful smile on their face.
Friends said I shouldn’t tip them“Think this way,” I said, “isn’t buying someone happiness the best way to spend your money?
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WordPress’ daily prompt: Break the Silence
Normandy Landing Beach
One Broken Soul
Soldiers Field was packed with people, but I noticed him right away. He pushed his bike walking slowly toward where our local memorial service would be. He looked different. He looked like a broken man. I wondered if he used drug or consumed alcohol. As broken as he was, how would he comfort himself?
When the service started, I turned around and was surprised to see him standing right behind me. I tried to have an eye contact with him, but he didn’t look my way. Soon after the service was started, I heard him sobbing. I wanted to reach out to hold his hands, but I didn’t know what he would think. I didn’t know what my husband would say.
He cried louder and louder. Someone should give him a hug, I thought. Looking around, I saw people act as if they didn’t hear a thing. “Please, someone do something,” I begged in my mind and waited.
He apparently was somewhat embarrassed with his uncontrollable emotion. Before the service ended, he quietly left. I watched him walking away, having an urge to go after him, but I couldn’t move.
I hated being an introvert that day.
Written in response to WordPress’ daily prompt: Break the Silence
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/break-the-silence/
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