waiting

this picture may capture best what i do these days. that's my daughter going out to the ocean (off the east malaysian coast) for her first deep sea diving, after one swimming pool training session. the instructor turned to me and asked, "You're not going to wait here for an hour, are you?" I just looked him in the eye and he knew the answer. So i sat in the sand and for an hour i waited until she emerged and came toward me. Only then, did my breathing get a little easier. And she is home now from college, and my other daughter from her new home in NYC, and i am breathing easier. Waiting is the toughest job of a parent. But oh the thrill we feel when we see them emerge, stronger and wiser in ways and very much the same in other ways. i feel that in letting them go, in pushing them out towards independence, i have earned the right to be more possessive, when they come home. all mine, you are. my little girls. i will feed you and listen to you, and hold you, and send you out again. But i will always be waiting right here.

woman shy, woman worthy, woman safe

i am currently reading Eve Ensler's Insecure At Last, a memoir of her journeys into the lives of men and women at home and abroad who have lost all security by way of rape, abuse, war-torn lives and families lost. No security, but peace and forgiveness and survival that leaves one wondering what security really is. I was looking for Ensler's Vagina Monolgues as i am helping coordinate a local presentation of the same, and i found this gem of a book instead. She refers often to her interviews with the women for the VMs and it's been pertinent to my clinic this week as i saw several women from faraway lands and different customs. I found myself answering questions for one shy woman for, well, the big night. I think the need to know and love our bodies is universal and her smile told me that what i was saying was okay. I'm not sure that talking about vaginas is the answer to preventing abuse, but the community that is built with people gathering to open up about once taboo topics is part of the answer. I am grateful that women trust me with their questions. I feel honored to offer some answers to the mysteries of our bodies, but mostly i am humbled that she asks, and in our talking together about such intimate things, her worth as a woman is validated.

pileated woodpecker, 1976

i am trying to write a piece about my transformation from creationist to true believer in science. Dr. Kenneth Miller, in his book, Finding Darwin's God, meticulously answers each of my questions regarding the fossil record, the biochemical possibilities in changing matter and the truth about mutation. I am forever grateful that he listened to the creation scientists' arguments and refutes them one by one with sound data. At last, someone from the evolution side takes the time to explain why it can't be so. It seems other scientists have refused, which added flame to the fire of intelligent designers' passion.

And here is a peak inside my innocent creationist mind, from my 1976 journal. I meant no harm in my beliefs. Indeed I saw the vestigial gills in the cat in my anatomy lab in college, but i also tripped over creationist pamphlets in the hallway saying evolution was from satan. (bible belt college) My relationship with God was emotional yet central to my growth at that time in my life. Creation made sense to me; it fit my God of wonder and miracles. And now, evolution fits Him even more, as my eyes are opened. More to come.

premont, texas

this is an image i have been wanting to capture and finally did last weekend. premont is an hour and 15 minutes from home-better known as the town before (or after, depending on which direction you are taking) Falfurrias. but the dairy queen is here and it's the best spot to let sofie out to wander and, hopefully, pee.
I don't have any words to go with a cactus growing out of a roof. somehow, it speaks to me.

the good fight

Life doesn't wave as it's speeding by
Better grab on fast and hold on tight
And don't ever forget to fight this good fight
And here I am.

This is my favorite verse in a song written by Mary Chapin Carpenter and i was listening to it today coming home from the Penitas clinic. Listening and thinking about how there is so much going on in the world, in my life, in everyones' lives. Then my brother called me back and he is in a very bad place again, telling me it's his time. Right now, he doesn't see a life that is worth fighting for nor does he have the energy to fight. So, I told him it wasn't fair that life had to be so hard, and i knew it was even harder for him. I told him to tell someone else how he is feeling, someone who is there, not hundreds of miles away, like me. "You have your music, your boys, your Gillian, and I love you," that's what i told him. Because sometimes we can't fight the good fight, can we? Sometimes we have to let someone else fight it for us.

loves of my life

this is sophie. she is a fixture of energy, hope and joy in my life. my husband and i had dinner last night with our best friends. They are also a permanent reminder to me of the essence of growing old(er)--knowing people in a way that transcends petty distancing emotions. And there are my daughters, who can do no wrong, as they are my flesh and blood, so when they might do wrong, i know it's all in the name of my being wrong, probably a twisted perception, and they motivate me to change my perceptions to be more accepting. And that brings me to him, the one i love to blame sometimes for my unhappiness probably because he is the closest one to blame. but i know the only one to blame such things on is me. his name means happy for a reason. and all of this clarity of the essence of family and friends brings me back to sophie. her name means wisdom, perhaps the female god. she encircles our lives with the memory of a God still here, not in conventional ways of church and bible study and prayer groups but in all of these loves of my life.

it's not just about food

market color

peppers, peppers

terengganu market

• more ramputan (hairy fruit)

pineapples: from truck to market, Terengganu

steam boat in cameron highlands

hot pot in Kampah

street market on the road to Ipoh

ramputan to go

night market in kuala lumpur

tea and sticky rice

aunt margaret's tea and sticky rice prepared with love; admired and eaten with love....
and bare feet

leaving the back streets of malacca

malacca

malacca was planned; i remembered its tourist feel but also the old world architecture. what i did not get to see on my last trip were the hidden back streets. the dusty antique store where my daughter found the old wooden wedding plaque (about 5 ft.long---too big to take home!) the young artist. the coffee shop that was delicious and reminded us of home (see blackboard)

on the streets of malacca

roots and herbs

shopping in old china town, singapore

presenting pigeon

yes, pigeon, not as gamish tasting as cornish hen, really. quite good. i didn't know you could eat the things. but of course, leave it to the malaysian cook...wait, no, this was singapore. we ate these with the chili crab (view to the left) best crab i ever put into my mouth.

dim sum

"dim sum," literally translated means "a bit of heart." small delights brought to you in bits, steamed dumplings, duck feet, bbq pork tucked inside of paper thin dough, beef ribs (tiny ones, of course)

this was our first supper in singapore. and it was a foreshadowing of what was to come in the days to follow: the contrast of heat and sweat and fatigue, with coolness, color, sweet food and sweeter company.

more color, more fresh

everything is fresher in malaysia. chickens hanging to prove it. fresh fruits and vegetables displayed for sale along the streets and highways for all to admire. food is talked about in a way that is different from the US. i am not sure how to capture this difference, but i am going to try with photos; not sure words will work.

ABC

ABC is the name of this dessert we had in Singapore & Malaysia. It is ice and jelly and fruit and black beans. Like so many of the foods in Malaysia, there are things mixed together that just aren't right. But I tried it this time. And i liked the ice and the fruit and ate around the black beans and the jelly. Something this colorful and this cold must be tried. There will be more postings on this trip. More food and more color. I am going to like reliving our trip this way: highlighting the beauty and the unique ways of Malaysian life.

It's been the summer of the river, changing times, with the last one moving on and my mother growing older. She is there on her river, ours now. Ownership is a holy thing. Atticus moved on, too, from Radio Salon. I'm not sure where it's going now. But i am more comfortable with the not knowing.