I never dreamed that four years later I would be sailing again at Shoreline Lake in Silicon Valley, California.

Four years ago, I sailed for a first time on the Charles River in Boston, Massachusetts. That day, the wind was quite strong and I soon experienced the force of riding on the winds without efforts. Alex, my future son-in-law, taught me how to sail. Under his guidance, I learned to navigate using tiller. For example, when approaching the Longfellow Bridge, I steered toward the Golden Dome near Boston Common; when approaching the Harvard Bridge, I steered toward the Citgo sign.

(Alex taught me how to sail on the Charles River in Boston, September 11, 2021)

Today, Alex and I went to Shoreline Lake for sailing, he was the driver, and I was the passenger. On the road, I told Alex that I didn’t like air conditioning, and he replied that he also preferred the natural breeze, so we both opened our side windows. While pushing the button to open my side window, I said, “We should have taken the convertible today, we did not plan well for this trip!” Alex replied, “Yes, topdown would be more fun.” We continued on our way, feeling a bit regretful.

It was a working day outside of the rush hour so the road was clear and it took us just over half an hour to drive from our home to Shoreline Lake.

Alex parked his car next to a Hello Kitty enthusiast’s car, which was noticeably covered and filled with Hello Kitty characters inside and outside. As my daughter was a fan of Hello Kitty many years ago, I could not resist taking photos of the car.

Today, there were very few boats on the water, and the small open-air restaurant on the bank still had many empty tables. It was a glimpse into a quiet weekday scene of the park with noticeably less traffic. When we put on our life jackets before boarding the sailboat, we saw a uniformed police officer and a staff member standing face-to-face and having a conversation. It turned out the police officer was performing an oral safety exam on the staff.
(A Hello Kitty enthusiast’s car, a police officer interviewing an employee, and water with varying shades of color)

Before boarding the sailboat, Alex pointed different areas of water to me and told me that the flat water near the dock indicated there has no wind; the darker water in the distance indicated stronger winds and larger waves.

As we were paying to rent the sailboat, the sail was pulled up before we boarded. I remember that when sailing at the MIT Sailing Club in Boston, the skipper often had to remove the sail from its cover bag and pull it up by himself; I also recalled one of my first time sailing memorable experiences. While closely watching Alex removed the cover bag and pulled the sail up, I immediately thought of “pulling the wind” and consciously tried to experience the feeling of “pulling the wind” while sitting on the sway boat, I quickly concluded that “pulling the wind” was more gentle and romantic while sailing on the water than riding on a convertible on the road.

As my right hand hadn’t healed from the injury of carrying my suitcase on and off during train transfers from Kyoto to Tokyo’s Narita Airport in late July (<- you should link to this story), I originally planned to sit back and enjoy the boat today.

While Alex was sailing, we chatted and I learned more about sailing. The captain of a small sailboat is often called a skipper. The simplest sailing boat turn is called tacking. The far end of a sailboat's boom should generally not be pulled inside the boat. The ideal sailing state is for the two small cotton threads on the sail swaying in the wind in parallel. A sail isn't pushed by the wind, but by the pressure difference created by the wind blowing both sides of the sail, which is known as Bernoulli's Principle in physics.

(Two small cotton threads on the sail, swaying in the wind)

Alex asked if I knew Bernoulli. I said, “My physics was very bad, I don’t know it.” Alex explained: “I work on heat dissipation and fluids, so I’m very familiar with Bernoulli.” I immediately felt fortunate to have sat face-to-face with him, as my instructor is a world-leading expert in thermal engineering and fluids. Looking at the eBay Storefront hat Alex was wearing, a souvenir from the development of eBay’s StoreFront in 2001, I wished I had worn the Nvidia hat he gave me. Over 20 years ago, I worked for eBay, the most popular software company in the Silicon Valley; now he is working for Nvidia, the most popular hardware company here. I can’t help but feel deeply grateful for the opportunities afforded to us by the vibrant high-tech environment of California’s Silicon Valley.

The weather is beautiful today. The sun is shining, the air is neither too hot nor too cold, and the wind is just right for sailing. Feeling the cool sea breeze on my face, smelling the salty ocean air, and looking at the rippling blue water, I was suddenly itching to go sailing. As the saying goes: “A good coach makes a good athlete.” I was soon able to tack smoothly, a skillful demonstration of sailing for a newbie. Alex even praised one of my tackings: “Perfect!” I sincerely thanked him, “You’re a great instructor.”

When I failed at tacking later, Alex quickly took over the tiller and the sail rope. While operating, he explained that the boat just got in a dead zone and could not make a turn. The dead zone is a 90 degrees area, within 45 degrees to the left and right of the headwind. If there’s no wind indicator on shore, you’re facing the headwind when the wind feels the same on both sides of your face. I tried, but couldn’t figure out the dead zone, so I returned the skipper role to Alex.

For the rest of the trip, I enjoyed the gentle swaying of the boat in the nice weather and mild breeze. I felt very comfortable sailing on the boat and thought my grandson Ben would love to sit on this boat too. I am looking forward to sitting with him on a sailboat.

Thinking back on Alex’s lesson and my today’s experience, I feel that sailing requires timely relay of wind direction and speed information perceived by the eyes, ears, and skin to the limbs, so that the hands and feet can steer the tiller or pull the sail rope just right. This is a sport that requires physical agility and a sharp mind, and it is worth trying.

Today, the wind wasn’t strong on Shoreline Lake, unlike on the Charles River in Boston. For the first time, I experienced the thrill of adapting to the changing directions of wind while sailing, so cool!

About sailing, I had previously learnt from Alex in Boston. The skipper always sits opposite the sail. If the sail is on the right side of the boat, the skipper will sit on the left. The easiest way to turn a sailboat is pushing the tiller all the way forward, andkeep pushing the tiller all the way forward during the turn. Also, remember to lower your head to avoid being hit by the swinging mast. Once the boat has reached the desired angle (make sure the boat has turned past the 90-degree dead zone), return the tiller to the center. If the edge of the sail wiggles near the mast, it’s loose and needs to be tightened. To tighten the sail, pull back a little with one hand, then transfer the grip to the hand holding the tiller. Then, use your free hand to pull back a little more and then transfer the grip to another hand again. This way, you can achieve a smooth turn.

Little Episodes

Sailing Short Video on YouTube.

My story of right arm was injured.

In early August in Beijing, while Facetime videoing with my daughter, she noticed me flexing my right arm and asked, “What’s wrong with your right arm?”

I said, “I think it got hurt carrying my suitcase up and down many times while I was transferring between train stations from Kyoto to Tokyo’s Narita Airport.”

The discomfort in my right arm has subsided considerably after my cousin treated me to a traditional Chinese medicine hot foment at Xiaotangshan Hospital before I left Beijing, and after my daughter treated me to a Thai massage in San Jose yesterday.

Today is Friday. After dinner, I’m still subconsciously flexing my right arm because it still hurts a bit.

On a happy Friday evening, I am sharing the sad story of my injured right arm, on my last day of Japan after my tour group which started in Tokyo. This injury was a result of when I was in a hurry to get from Kyoto to Tokyo’s Narita Airport. Looking back, it was a pretty exciting moment.

After arrived to Tokyo, I decided to stay in Kyoto one more day to explore this old city, so I had to leave Kyoto early in the morning to catch my flight to Beijing that takes off at Narita Airport at 3:15 PM. My plan for getting from Kyoto to Tokyo’s Narita Airport was to take the Shinkansen to Tokyo, transfer to the JR Yamanote Line (Green Line) to Ueno Station, and then walk to Keisei-Ueno Station to take the Keisei Skyliner to Narita Airport.

Suica, a prepaid, rechargeable electronic smart card in Japan. In Tokyo, I used it for train fares, restaurants, and shopping, but not in Kyoto, because many shops didn’t accept Suica.

As Suica can’t be used to purchase Shinkansen tickets, I bought the earliest and fastest Shinkansen ticket from Kyoto to Tokyo, departing at 9:00 AM on the 28th (arriving at Tokyo Station at 11:15 PM, 17,400 yen), online using my credit card. Suica can pay the ticket from Tokyo Station to the JR Yamanote Line (Green Line) Ueno Station. Strangely enough, Suica only covers the basic fare (the ticket portion) of the Keisei Skyliner, not the seat reservation fee. Following the recommendation, I used my credit card and passport to buy a discounted one-way ticket from Keisei Ueno Station to Narita Airport for 2,310 yen, online.

My flight from Narita Airport to Beijing will take off at 3:15 PM, since international flights require passengers to arrive two hours in advance, I have to arrive at Narita Airport around 1:15 PM. After arriving at Tokyo Station at 11:15 PM via the Shinkansen, I needed to transfer twice to reach Keisei Ueno Station. The Keisei Skyliner to Narita Airport would take almost an hour, as it departs at a fixed time slot. Therefore, I only had one hour to transfer between train stations.

As I knew I easily get lost even with directions, after pre-purchasing my train tickets, I hand-copied and reviewed the detailed instructions for each transfer station using ChatGPT and the internet a few times to ensure a smooth transfer and arrive at Narita Airport on time so that I could catch my 3:15 PM flight to Beijing.

Just after 8:00 AM on the 28th, the weather was already scorching. In the hot and humid morning, I pulled my suitcase and walked more than ten minutes from my hotel to the Kyoto Shinkansen train station, ready to catch the earliest and fastest Shinkansen train from Kyoto to Tokyo, which will arrive Tokyo at 11:15 AM. I checked in using the QR code I downloaded on my phone and carried my suitcase up the stairs to the elevated Shinkansen station. I felt a relief as my suitcase wasn’t heavy, but I didn’t know about the many steps I’d have to carry it up and down later. While standing on the very hot platform waiting for my train, I already felt a bit exhausted.


(The NOZOMI 80 Shinkansen train I took)

I arrived at Tokyo Station at 11:15 AM and discovered that the handwritten guide of using Suica to transfer from the Shinkansen train station to the JR Yamanote Line (Green Line) Ueno Station was incorrect, because I couldn’t use Suica to pay for the ticket and pass the gate. I looked at people rushing passing me, unsure what to ask. I pulled my suitcase to a staff member, showed him my handwritten JR Lines Ueno on the paper, and asked him which way to go. He pointed to a guarded window next to the automatic gate. I pointed at it and looked at him, and he nodded. I pulled my suitcase up to the guard, and she asked in English if I needed any help.

I quickly said, “I want to transfer to the JR Lines to Ueno, but my Suica could not pay for a ticket. What should I do?”

She said, “You need to show me your Shinkansen ticket.”

I said, “I don’t have a ticket. I bought it online.”

She asked, “Do you have a receipt for your online purchase?”

I said, “Yes,” and quickly pulled out the email receipt from my phone and showed it to her.

She said, “You should have an e-ticket too. Can you show it to me?”

I gave her the QR code ticket I had downloaded on my phone. After she checked the ticket and let me through the gate manually, I suddenly realized I was only exiting the train station but not buying a ticket to enter JR train station.

I walked along the green line with my suitcase, swiping my Suica successfully to enter the JR Lines.

The handwritten guide said the train to Ueno was on platforms four and five. I reached the entrance marked Platforms 4 and 5, carrying my suitcase and walked up the stairs to the platform. Being directionally challenged, I cautiously pointed to the name “Ueno” which was written on my handwritten guidebook to a fellow passenger. He peeked over, shook his head, and pointed to the platform across the way. I took a closer look at the names of destinations on the platform wall and realized I had reached the station for the train heading in the opposite direction. I hurriedly carried my suitcase down the stairs and up again to the right platform, catching the subway bound for Ueno.

After getting off at Ueno Station, I realized my handwritten guidebook for the Keisei Skyliner station also wasn’t working. I exited the station and stood under the blazing sun, unsure whether to turn left or right or go forward, as Google map had since given up. After a moment’s hesitation, I pointed to Keisei Ueno Station on my handwritten guidebook and asked a passing mother and daughter for directions. After understanding my question, the mother took out her cell phone, entered Keisei Ueno Station on the map, then pointed to the left said: “You can get there by following the yellow line on the ground.” I thanked the kind mother, pulled my suitcase and walked along the yellow line on the ground for a long time, took a elevator down to the lower ground, crossed a road with traffic lights, and finally arrived at Keisei Ueno Station.

(The yellow line on the ground leads to Keisei-Ueno Station)

(Keisei Ueno Station)

Inside the station, following oral instructions from a staff member, I lined up in front of the ticket counter, took out my passport and pulled out the QR code on my phone, ready to exchange for a one-way ticket to Narita Airport. I was lucky to get the ticket departing at noon, which allowed me to arrive at Narita before 1:00 PM and not miss my flight to Beijing at 3:15 PM.

(Keisei Skyliner train to Narita Airport)

(A scene on the way to Narita Airport: vast fields of rice)

(A corner of Narita Airport)

On July 28th, I left my hotel in Kyoto a little after 8:00 AM and arrived at Narita Airport just before 1:00 PM. After carrying my suitcase up and down many stairs while walking a long distance, in addition coupling with the heat and the stress, my right arm was injured.

After arriving in Beijing, I began to experience a constant pain from my right wrist up to my shoulder, which bothered me a lots.

A month has passed in a flash. After enjoying traditional Chinese hot foment therapy in Beijing and a Thai massage in San Jose, I still feel a slight pain in my right arm. I felt I am aging and time really has taken its toll!

Traveling sometime is about seeking hardship and yet finding joy in it. After planning and implementing a very short trip from Kyoto to Tokyo’s Narita Airport, I’ve learned that planning a tight schedule and a feasible plan requires a highly precise mind. A heartfelt tribute to all the travel experts out there!

Happy Friday!

I joined a tour group which started in Tokyo. To help with jet lag, my daughter planned my trip from SFO to arrive at Tokyo two days earlier than my tour group. As such, I also planned a two-day Tokyo trip for myself: I bought a ticket to see the TeamLab Borderless light show; I am going to buy rare gifts and to catch special Pokémon at the Pokémon Centers in Tokyo； I am going to eat Wagyu beef, to drink sake, and to wander the streets of Tokyo; I am going to visit the Tokyo Iris Garden and many other gardens…

Tokyo’s humid and muggy weather challenged the carefully planned outdoor trips and its complex subway system challenged me more, as I don’t like to ride on subways and easily get lost. Plus, Tokyo’s parks close around 5 p.m., so I didn’t have time to visit many parks in Tokyo. As a result, I only visited Hinocho Park (which I stumbled upon) and the Tokyo Iris Garden.

When I learned about Tokyo’s Iris Garden during the pandemic, I imagined the irises, shaded by trees, along winding paths, and beside flowing little streams, would create a magnificent, layered sea of ​​iris flowers during their blooming season. I was eager to see my imagination come to life, so visiting the Tokyo Iris Garden was on the top of my 2-day Tokyo to-do list.

It turns out the iris garden is inside the Meiji Jingu Inner Garden. Although the iris season had passed, I still bought a ticket to see the narrow, winding garden nestled in a shallow area, lush with iris leaves. Strolling along the edge of the iris garden, which was so different from my imagination, I felt that I teased myself using overactive imagination and I laughed silently. When I saw the unique names of irises: Kamari Nishiki, Satsuki Haru, Wada Tsukai, Sunset Stream, Fukamado Beauty, Monkey Dance, and Okitsu Shiranami, I stopped to take pictures and imagine the shapes and colors of the flowers that matched the names, immersing myself in the virtual game of Flower Delight.

(Names of various irises in the lush, leafy little garden.)

While passing by a large bush of after blooming season kerria in a corner of the Iris Garden, I recalled how I first learned what kerria flowers look like during the pandemic lockdown, and the places I’ve seen them: on the side of the entrance of corridor pavilion in Zigong Park, outside the Brandeis University campus in western Massachusetts, in front of the Wall of Love in the Jehan Rictus garden square in Montmartre, Paris, France, and the lyrics “Clusters of kerria, misty morning, quiet waterwheel huts” in the song of “Spring in the North”. “Flowers delight me like a virtual pen, repainting vividly the previous sightseeing of flowers in my memory and bringing joys back again.” Thinking of the longer adjectives that will be associated with this bush of kerria in front me: the kerria flowers by the Iris Garden, in the Meiji Jingu Inner Garden, in the Meiji Jingu Shrine, Tokyo, Japan, I can’t help but smile. The striking beauty of Kerria is unforgettable for flower lovers, as I still remember the large bush of blooming kerria flowers I saw in Zigong Park in my childhood. As a flower lover with good memory, I felt even in their off-blooming season, flowers can still delight me.

(A bush of kerria flowers, past their blooming season, next to the Iris Garden, in Tokyo July 22, 2025.)

(Kerria flowers blooming in the rain outside the Brandeis University campus in western Massachusetts, April 29, 2021.)

(Single-petaled kerria flowers in full bloom in front of the Wall of Love in Paris. 04-18-2022.)

There is a thatched pavilion high above the Iris Garden. Its thick thatch reminds me of the line “The triple thatch on my roof blew away” from Du Fu’s “Song of the Thatched Cottage Destroyed by the Autumn Wind.” I suspected this pavilion might bear traces of Du Fu, as his poem “The country is broken, but the mountains and rivers remain…” is often found in Japanese junior high school language textbooks.

The Inner Garden has few buildings, but abundant flowers, trees, and mosquitoes. The interplay of cicada and bird calls creates a low-key, natural beauty. I read in the tourist brochure that Emperor Meiji admired this place so much that he wrote a poem praising it which reads: “Deep in the woodland of Yoyogi, the quietude creates an illusion of seclusion from the city.”
(The cover of a brochure of Meiji Jingu Inner Garen: the iris garden in bloom, a thatched pavilion, and lush trees.)

Kiyomasa Well

Because I wasn’t in a hurry, I wondered around the Iris Garden for a long time before heading to Kiyomasa Well which provides a constant source of water year-round for the irises who thrive in a moist environment. While lingering by the well, I bumped into a Japanese family of four: father, mother, and two school-age daughters. I watched the couple kneeling down for a bow, then stood up and gently faned the air from the well onto their faces. Curiously, I asked the mother, “Why are you fanning like that?” She explained that they were absorbing the energy from the well, as the well is famous and has magical, and that by fanning the air towards us we can absorb its energy. I thanked her and imitated her, gently fanning the air from the well onto my face. She was delighted to see this, and we stood by the well and chatted for a while. The two daughters stood quietly next to her, her husband facing her nodding and acknowledging her occasionally. I felt it was a picture of family harmony. Hiromi Oguribayashi, unlike typical Japaneses ladies, is talkative, she wrote her name in Chinese for me and told me that she studied economics at a university in Tokyo, that her family flew here to visit Tokyo Disneyland (she told me where her home was, but I didn’t understand) and will fly back home tomorrow. She also said and that her daughters are 11 and 8. After they left, I stayed by the quiet well, continuing to appreciate its magic. Then a young couple came, and the boy skillfully bowed and gently fanned the air from the well onto his face with his hands. I felt that the sincere look on his young face added energy to Kiyomasa Well.

After leaving Kiyomasa Well, I followed the signs to the exit and sat on a stone bench under the shade of a tree on the top of the Iris Garden. Two girls passed by and asked, “Could we sit here for a while?” I quickly moved to one side of the bench and said, “Of course.” We sat on the same bench and chatted for a while. They were from the United States, third-year college students majoring in accounting. Wendy, who spoke Chinese, was born in the United States, she will stay in Japan for a month; Victoria, a tall Caucasian, will return to the US after a week in Japan. They were planning to leave after resting for a while. I asked if they had visited the Kiyomasa Well. They said no. I repeated Hiromi’s words: “Kiyomasa Well is famous and has magical. We can absorb its energy.” I enthusiastically demonstrated to them how to fan air from the well onto my face to absorb its energy. After hearing my introduction, they stood up and walked towards the well. I was happy to put my newly-acquired knowledge into practice as a tour guide for people who had come from afar. Of course, I knew that Kiyomasa Well might not have magical powers. I remembered what the priest said to Eileen in the movie “Miracle Club” which I had just watch during my flight: “The real purpose of the pilgrimage was to sustain one’s faith even in the absence of miracles.” I felt that what I saw and did at Kiyomasa Well was a reflection of the priest’s words. The Kiyomasa Well may not has magical, but Hiromi’s family, the young boy, and I all felt its magical energy at the well. I also passed this magic on to the two American girls. The magic is human love.

(The isolated and tranquil Kiyomasa Well.)

Visiting Tokyo’s Iris Garden, I once again experienced the feeling of “following my interests, obeying my physical strength, exploring foreign lands, and being enchanted by all the beauty, it’s like a dream come true.” How wonderful!

In late July, I went on a four-day Japanese tour. Our first trip was one-day in Tokyo, and the highlight of my day was eating crepes at our last stop, Takeshita in Tokyo, which came as a surprise to me.

Unexpected encounters on a trip could easily surprise me. And when the surprise is connected to one of my favorite foods that was first tasted at a faraway place, the encounter becomes a story that I will tell repeatedly later. Food preserves beautiful memories which are rich and vivid.

I like crepes because it contains the Sichuan flavor that I am familiar with. Enjoying crepes is always a warm and sweet experience for me, because crepes cross my European, American, and Asian memories.

Our tour group visited Takeshita Street, our last stop of our one-day Tokyo tour, for a free activity. I strolled along the over 300-meter-long short street and looked around randomly without purpose. The small shops along with the crowds on the street reminded me of Chunxi Road in Chengdu in China in the 1980s. While strolling on Chunxi Road in Chengdu, I was a poor college student with a strong desire to buy things. Now strolling on Takeshita in Tokyo, I am a contented 60-year-old without worldly desires. I said to myself: “Time flies quickly and time has refined me nicely!”

Strolling freely amidst the bustling crowd, a small crepes shop caught my eye, because crepes awaken the happy moments I shared with my daughter vividly. I had my first taste of crepes which was bought for me by my daughter, in Wuerzburg, Germany. In 2017, at the Country Inn Cafe in San Jose California, I ordered a fruit crepes, chatted with my daughter while eating, and made a deep connection for crepes. In 2021, at my daughter’s friend’s house in Waltham, Massachusetts, I enjoyed Rachel’s home-made crepes with a variety of savory and sweet fillings alongside my son. I suddenly remembered that when I was studying in Chengdu, I went to Chunxi Road to eat egg-baked cakes, which I defined as Sichuan style crepes.

With these memories in mind, I happily went to the Tokyo shop, stood in line, and bought a basic crepes. I held the crepes as a souvenir to take photos on Takeshita Street joyfully.

(Two entrances of the Takeshita Street, the crepes I enjoyed on Takeshita Street.)

My daughter is always in my memory of crepes. Eating Japanese style crepes on Takeshita Street in Tokyo Japan also has my daughter’s present, as she planned this Japanese trip for me.

There are many stories about our one-day in Tokyo, but enjoying crepes is my favorite story today, which shows I am a high-end foodie.

After enjoying the crepes, I felt that the taste of crepes all over the world are similar: juicy, delicate, and soft. Crepes can be folded, rolled, and paired with various fillings, to easily present the charm of delicious food.

（The set of fruit crepes I ordered in the Country Inn Cafe in San Jose California in 2017.）

（The set of fruit crepes I made for myself in Rachel’s house in Waltham Massachusetts in 2021.）

One day tour in Tokyo

Our Japanese tour group consists of 14 people who are originally from California, Florida, Pennsylvania, Michigan, and Washington, all states from the United States. Our tour guide is an Indian with a Japanese green card. He is short, wears earrings, has a shaved head and a goatee beard. Because he wears pants in the sagging style of high school boys in the United States, I had difficulty guessing his real age.

Our one-day tour in Tokyo started at 10am. Under the scorching sun, the tour guide took us for a quick visit of the Imperial Palace East Garden, where the large stone walls were eye-catching. While bypassing the large stone wall, I saw that there were gaps and cracks between the stones, and I felt that the masonry process was very rough and could not be compared to the seamless masonry process of the giant stones in the Inca era Sun Temple in Cusco, Peru. The experience of previous traveling has been awakened during a journey, this is a truly satisfying pleasure for a traveler. I think the ancient people liked to show their strength by playing with giant stones, such as Stonehenge in Britain, Machu Picchu in Peru, Leshan Giant Buddha Scenic Area in China, and the stone wall of the Imperial Palace in Tokyo.

（Our tour group approaching the big stone wall while visiting the Imperial Palace East Garden in Tokyo.）

（The stone chamber in the Inca era Sun Temple in Cusco, Peru, 11-2023.）

Afterwards, we went to Asakusa Temple/Nakami Sei for free activities and individual lunch.

Asakusa Temple is small and crowded with people; Nakamise street is short with small shops along both sides. We went to the temple to pay money to shake bamboo tubes to seek fortune, and went to small shops filled with eye-catching goods for purchase on Nakamise street. The atmosphere here was very harmonious because visitors could easily obtain spiritual and material satisfaction in close proximity to one another.

I went to a small restaurant on the street near Asakusa Temple and asked for Wagyu beef, the waitress recommended the Black Haired Wagyu set meal, which cost over 5000 yen. She brought to me a serving tray with many dishes and bowls, and the Black Haired Beef was even placed with a piece of paper indicating “黑毛和牛” on the top. Each dining table is equipped with an open flame stone pan. The waitress lit up the pan on my table and told me, “If you’re not used to half cooked beef, please use the pan to fully cook it.” She also explained various beef dipping methods to me. At the table next to me sat an elegantly dressed elderly lady, and we studied each other silently using eye contact. I guessed she is a local.

After lunch, our tour group gathered at the Asakusa Temple, then took the subway to Shibuya to experience the Shibuya “Scramble Crossing”, when light is green, people flood the intersection from all directions. I felt this sightseeing is a bit boring, as I was grew up in crowded crowds in China and I don’t understand how a flood with people place became a tourist attraction. While crossing the road in a dense crowd, I saw a pretty lady asking four friends to take photos of her posture in the crowd from different directions. Imagining her “high” appearance from different angles in the photo, I smiled.

Then, we took the subway from Shibuya to Harajuku Takeshita for free activities, which brought me memories of and new stories of crepes, so I was overjoyed.

(Photo collections: Today’s weather in Tokyo, taking the subway, I’m at Asakusa Temple, my black haired Wagyu lunch, strolling around Nakami District, crossing Shibuya Cross Road, and at the entrance of Takeshita Road.)

Our Tour Guide

He has never been to the United States and speaks fluent American English because he attended a bilingual school in English and Japanese since childhood. After graduating from high school, he went to Canada to attend university for a year and missed home. He returned to Japan to attend Tmple University, where students graduated with a bachelor’s degree in four years, but he said it took him six years to graduate. After getting his bachelor degree, he became a tour guide, then the COVID-19 pandemic broke out. He had to switch to a job doing bilingual telephone services. Now, being a tour guide is his side job, and he is 31 years old single without a girlfriend. He has a younger sister who was studying remotely from home during the pandemic when she was in college. She is very good at studying and graduated in four years. She immediately started working in the government and recently switched jobs to a large energy company in Japan because corporate pays higher than the government does. They live with their father, who is an engineer, and their father cooks at home because their mother has passed away. His father has a car. he and his sister use public transportation as they don’t have cars.

When my parents came to visit us in the United States during April 1997, we were living in an apartment near 19th Avenue in Daly City, close to Golden Gate Park. The Botanical Garden in Golden Gate Park was free to enter at the time and my mother, who loves flowers, especially liked the flowers and plants in the park. Unfortunately, since I was busy working as a newly hired software engineer in a small startup company and had a long commute from Daly City to Novato City in Marin County, we couldn’t visit Golden Gate Park very often.

At the end of 1997, after my family moved from Daly City to East San Jose, I changed jobs to work at Lattice Semiconductor, a programmable chip hardware company. Since I was working in a hardware company as a software developer, my workload was much lighter now as the delivery cycle of software products was driven by the hardware chip delivery cycle which is usually slow. My father liked outdoor activities and my mother and I liked flowers, so I started to drive my parents and my daughter to the nearby parks to walk around and to see flowers almost every weekend. I still remember when my mother first walked in Overfelt Garden Park, she immediately pointed to the evergreen trees on our left side and said: “These are osmanthus trees. We can come here to smell the fragrance of osmanthus in the autumn.” It was my first time seeing osmanthus trees in the United States and I thought they were short, less than two meters high, unlike the tall osmanthus trees I saw in China before.

During the next autumn, in 1998, we went to Overfelt Park just to smell the fragrance of osmanthus. Although the silver osmanthus flowers were sparse and could not fill the air with fragrance, my mother stood among the osmanthus trees, putting her nose close to the silver flowers and said with a smile, “It smells very good!” This scene is engraved in my memory with the joy of my first autumn with the fragrance of osmanthus in the United States.

In November 1998, after my son was born, my mother went back to China alone due to illness and my father stayed with us to help me take care of my newborn son and kindergarten daughter. I often drove my father and two children to Overfelt Garden Park, as it was very close to our home. I remember the purple morning glories blooming at the entrance of the park in summer and the aggressive geese by the lakeside in spring.

In the summer of 2000, before my daughter entered third grade, my family moved to South San Jose for a better school district. After moving, I stopped visiting Overfelt Garden Park and the name of Overfelt Garden faded from my memory.

In the summer of 2018, I moved from San Jose, California to Waltham, Massachusetts to accompany my daughter’s Ph.D. study in Brandeis University. While talking with my son who lived in San Jose, California over the phone, I suddenly heard of Overfelt Garden Park again, because my son liked to play Pokemon Go and there were many Pokemon in Overfelt Garden Park. I remembered the sweet-scented osmanthus in Overfelt Garden and started to look for the sweet-scented osmanthus while enjoying the gorgeous autumn colors in the East Coast. Unfortunately, I never saw nor smelt the sweet-scented osmanthus.

In September 2022, after returning to Silicon Valley in California from Massachusetts with my daughter’s family, we lived in an apartment for a few months. I happened to see several huge trees with silver osmanthus blossoms across the street from our apartment. The trees were taller than a one-floor house. I frequently walked there to smell the sweet-scented osmanthus which reminded me of the osmanthus trees in Overfelt Garden Park again.

In early 2023, my daughter’s family moved from the apartment to a house in East San Jose. In September 2023, I visited Overfelt Garden Park again for the first time in more than twenty years to try to see and smell the sweet-scented osmanthus. Unfortunately, seeing that the sweet-scented osmanthus trees were gone made me sad, as the trees were an object far away from my hometown which reminded me of my late mother’s love for flowers.

I suddenly wanted to see the forest of osmanthus and smell the fragrance of osmanthus which filled the air, such a scene can only be found in Xindu Guihu, Sichuan in my memory.

My longing for the massive osmanthus scene was finally fulfilled in October 2024.

Seeing the flowers suddenly made me remember the time my Mom and Dad visited Overfelt Garden in the United States and made me smile. Seeing the flowers again brought me the same happiness I felt back then.

Postscript:

Before returning to China at the end of September 2024, through an alumni from Sichuan Normal University, I invited Sichuan’s gold medal tour guide Jiang Yu to plan a few days of travel for my aunts and uncles from my mother’s side in Zigong. I thought of Xindu Guihu, so I put this place on the itinerary. Unfortunately, my aunts and uncles did not want to stay overnight outside, so this plan fell through. Finally, I accompanied them on a one-day tour, chartered a six-seater business car for 1,000 yuan, and went to Lizhuang, Shunan Bamboo Sea, and Yibin.

The autumn colors in 2021

The White Mountains in New Hampshire:

The Flume Gorge in New Hampshire:

The North Bridge Conccord in Massachusetts:

The Gibbet Hill in Massachusetts:

In 2022, I encountered the silver osmanthus huge trees.

After my parents came to the United States, we moved from Daly City to East San Jose. All the memories and thoughts were written here after I read my late mother’s limerick (1998).

I have a long and interesting history of playing Pokemon Go with my children in San Francisco and in Boston here

In 2016, I had not thought of enjoying osmanthus in the golden autumn, but I enjoyed the of tasting golden osmanthus flowers in the golden autumn, as I had dried osmanthus at home. This is the story

I like wintersweet flowers very much but have not seen them blossom since I came to the U.S. in 1989.

During the Spring Festival in 2017, I visited Sansheng Plum Village Happy Plum Forest in Chengdu in Sichuan. I stayed in the forest for a whole day after noticing the forest was filled with wintersweet flowers that were fully blossomed. I realized that I needed to see, smell and touch the wintersweet blossoms in person in order to fully enjoy their beauty, fragrance and texture.

I wished my children could have experienced the multidimensional enjoyments of wintersweet blossoms with me in Sichuan. Sadly, they were in school during that time that wintersweet flowers blossomed in Sichuan.

Unexpectedly, my wish was granted the next year and I was overjoyed.

It was in early February 2018 that my children and I saw wintersweet blossoms in Kew Garden, London. There is the Duke Garden, which is known as a mysterious garden, inside the Kew Gardens. The Duke Garden is a quiet small garden surrounded by brick walls and iron gates. Since I like gardens, we visited Duke Garden and were surprised to see a wintersweet blossom leaning against the brick wall next to the iron gate of the garden.

I feel that this old and tall wintersweet, which stood in the most noticeable front of the Duke Garden, must have quietly displayed her beauty both now and in the past. I also remember the wintersweet in the Jingqi Pavilion of Yong’an Temple where Emperor Qianlong studied in Beihai Park in Beijing; two big bushes of wintersweet grew on both sides of the stone stairs in front of the Pavilion.

Then I realized that wintersweet is a prominent flower in both Eastern and Western royal gardens, I was very happy because the wintersweet blossom is also a prominent flow in my hometown. I used to see wintersweet blossoms every year in my childhood in my hometown Zigong, in the Park, in the Salt Administration Bureau where my mother worked, and in front of the kindergarten of Shuguang Middle School.

The chain of thoughts led me to see that people throughout the world agree upon the beauty of the wintersweet flowers, regardless of nations or class rankings.

I think of the couplet in the Jingxi Pavilion of Yong’an Temple in Beihai Park, Beijing: “Enjoying in a calm and quiet state, comprehending without go faraway (悦性适应静，会心何必遐).” comprehending without going faraway is a kind of cultivation; comprehending at a faraway place is a kind of harvest.

Going faraway made me appreciate my hometown more and made my love for flowers stronger.

(I am in front of the Duke Garden, 2018-02-08.)

(Introduction to Duke Garden.)

Postscript

After returning to Germany from London, one day my daughter asked me if wintersweet is the national flower of Taiwan, because Taiwan has adopted the national flower of the Republic of China, the plum blossom. After checking online, I told her that wintersweet is a shrub, plum blossom is a tree, and wintersweet is not plum blossom, thus is not the national flower of the Republic of China.

Wintersweet blossom is a prominent and elegant flower. “Wax: its petals are like beeswax, and its texture is like twisted wax.

My daughter then said that she thought wintersweet was also a tree, since the wintersweet in Kew Gardens looked like a tree (I guess the Western gardeners had done a lot of pruning, leaving only a very few branches to grow), but the wintersweet in Jingqi Pavilion had the characteristics of a shrub.

Today is Saturday. In the morning, my son told me that he and his wife, Zelene, planned to come over for dinner around 5:30 PM. Zelene wanted millet porridge and my son wanted Korean-style fried rice noodles.

After taking an afternoon nap, I got up to make dinner. I started cooking the millet porridge first, since it would take more than two hours. Then I started to make lemonade, one of my son’s favorite drinks. Last year I squeezed out some lemon juice and froze it to save as lemon juice ice cubes, but there was only enough to make three glasses of lemonade. I knew from last week that this was not enough lemonade so I went to the backyard to pick a big lemon and came home and rinsed it. I looked at the lemon, which was bigger than my fist, and wondered how to squeeze the juice? After all, my manual juice squeezer can only hold lemons that are up to the size of an egg. I suddenly remembered that when I went to my college roommate, Ping’s house for dinner in big Boston in Massachusetts, I often saw her patting and pressing whole lemons with the skin on and then cutting and squeezing the juice directly. I put the big lemon on the cutting board and turned it while patting it. After a while, the hard lemon became soft. I held the lemon with both hands and squeezed until the juice came out from a hole I had cut into a large bowl. When I saw that some pulp was squeezed out, I felt that I patted the lemon too hard. After squeezing out most of the juice, I cut the lemon into half and scooped out more pulp into the large bowl, then added sugar and boiling water to make a large porcelain jar of lemonade.

It took too much time to make the lemonade today. When they arrived, I had only cooked the twice-cooked pork belly, the rice noodles and rice were not yet cooked.

I rarely cook fried rice noodles so I didn’t have a good sense of how many ingredients to use. The raw materials I prepared such as minced beef, rice noodles soaked in water, chopped carrots and onions were too much for tonight’s dinner.

While stir-frying the rice noodles, I said to them: “Yesterday, one of my high school alumni who came back from Seattle gave me a box of Qingtuan. Do you want to try it?” Zelene replied: “Is your friend from Shanghai? As Shanghai people like to eat Qingtuan.” I said: “No, she is from Sichuan just like me. I haven’t eaten Qingtuan before.” Zelene said: “Let’s try it together.” After the stir-fried rice noodles was ready, the children set the dinner table with bowls, chopsticks and napkins. Before starting our dinner, I followed the instructions given by my friend: “Remove the plastic wrap, steam in a pot, and let it cool before eating.” I steamed two Qingtuan that had a filling of red beans and black sesame for dessert.

There were only two dishes tonight: twice-cooked pork belly and stir-fried rice noodles (with minced beef, green vegetables, bean sprouts, red onions, and carrots). Zelene had millet porridge, my son and I had the leftover rice. I passed the porcelain jar of lemonade to my son and said: “The lemonade is made of fresh lemons with less sugar, drink it first. If it’s not enough, there are three more glasses of lemonade made from frozen lemon juice with more sugar.”

After taking a few sips of fresh lemonade, my son said: “It’s not sweet, it tastes good.” Zelene also took a few sips and said: “This lemonade is not sweet or bitter, it tastes good.” I laughed and said: “It means our lemons in the backyard are of high quality!” My son quickly finished the jar of lemonade. I took out a glass of sweeter lemonade from the oven for him but he noticed an ant floating in the glass and didn’t want to drink it. I took out the remaining two glasses of lemonade from the oven for my son. Fortunately, there were no ants in them, so he quickly finished them.

When we finish our dinner, the Qingtuan were finished steaming and had cooled for a while. Zelene cut the red bean filling Qingtuan into three portions of different sizes. She ate the smallest portion and my son ate the largest portion. They both said it was delicious. I liked it too. I then cut the black sesame filling Qingtuan into four portions. Zelene and I each had one portion, and my son ate two portions. Although my memory is not as good as before, I hope the scene of eating Qingtuan for the first time and the story behind it will stay with me forever.

Later, my daughter sent a text message from Shandong saying that her babies just woke up and wanted to see their grandmother. I quickly opened FaceTime and saw my daughter’s family and her in-laws were in the car ready to go out. After my son and Zelene greeted their niece and nephew, my daughter asked me to sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star for my granddaughter Sue. After singing the song, I greeted my grandson Ben, whose arms were full with various stickers, and said hello to Ben’s Nainai, then hung up in a hurry. Although the time was short, it was also the high point of the night. My son listened to me singing and whispered to Zelene: “Look how happy she is!”

I was really happy to see and chat with my daughter’s family from a distance via FaceTime while having dinner and chatting with my son and daughter-in-law.

There was some millet porridge and twice-cooked pork belly left over from tonight, they will be my lunch tomorrow. I plan to stir-fry the remaining ingredients that were originally prepared for fried rice noodles with the leftover twice-cooked pork belly as a dish with the leftover millet porridge.

This year, many flowers are blooming in the orchard in Xincun, a suburb of Changping, Beijing: roses, peonies, hibiscus, bougainvillea, dahlias, and begonias…

The orchard with hundreds of flowers in full bloom has become a veritable flower garden.

As a flower maniac, I took many photos of pretty and gorgeous flowers here, Ying, my uncle Yongyuan’s wife, changed her WeChat profile picture to a blooming big red rose, so beautiful!

Watching the bees buzz around a purple rose, I said, “This rose must be very sweet.”

Ying smelled it and said, “It smells so good! We can use it to make rose candy.”

I answered: “In the past, my nanny Yeyi used sugar to pickle rose petals. The pickled rose candy smelled very good and it was delicious when eaten in glutinous rice balls!”

Ying said, “We can collect this type of rose petals to make rose candy too.”

The next day, I saw my uncle Yongyuan collecting all the petals of the bloomed roses that Ying and I talked about to make rose candy yesterday. I asked happily: “Are you collecting them to make rose candy?”

My uncle replied: “Rose candy? Nonsense. I am making rose wine!”

I immediately felt that I had met a liquor lover who was better than me, as I was just a flower lover.

There are many roses in California. I had used sugar to pickle rose petals to make glutinous rice balls in the past, a thing I watched and learnt from my nanny Yeyi when I was little. I enjoyed using various fruits to wine for many years; but I only started to make osmanthus wine last year after I learned it from my uncle Yongjia in Nongtuan Mountain, Zigong.

Today, my uncle Yongyuan’s words made me feel that all the uncles on my mother’s side are true liquor lovers. I told myself that I will definitely make some rose wine after coming back home.

Today was a chaotic day. But receiving some good news in the afternoon left me with a story about babies, wine, and our cat princess Kara.

Yesterday was Tuesday, which was Ben’s school day, Ben is my first grandson and my daughter’s first born baby. Because there was no car at home for me to drive to pick Ben up in the afternoon, I asked my son to pick me up and then for us to go to school together to pick Ben up. I told my son who was driving: “Ben is very cute now. He started to make sounds, clap his hands, cover his eyes to play peekaboo, and sometimes bow and wave good bye. You come to play with him tomorrow, as he will stay home.” My son asked: “What time is good?” I said: “Ben usually takes a nap at 10:30 in the morning and gets up around 1 in the afternoon. You can come at 12 o’clock, have lunch with me, and then play with Ben for two hours after his nap.”

Ben usually wakes up at 8 o’clock in the morning and starts talking to himself or crying and making all kinds of noises to ask us to get up and serve him. But this morning at 8:30, Ben’s room was still very quiet. Although I was awake, I didn’t get up. Alex overslept and was late for his 8:30 online meeting, as he was hoping that alarm clock Ben would ring at 8 o’clock.

Today, Ben didn’t wake up until 9 o’clock, and his nap time was postponed from 10:30 to 11:40, so the regular schedule was disrupted. After Ben took a nap, as I was under intermittent fasting, I didn’t take a meal and went to lie down for more than half an hour. I didn’t get up until my son came over.

Then I experienced a familiar reaction to hunger: easily getting sad or angry.

While looking at my son who was playing with his phone at the dining table. I felt that he was very tired and suddenly felt very sad… I knew that this was a loss of composure due to hunger, so I quickly ate an apple to calm myself down, but I still didn’t feel calmed down. I took out the wild rose liqueur from the refrigerator and drank a sip before I felt better. I sighed silently in my heart: “Wine is really a good thing!”

It was almost two o’clock when Ben woke up. My son who was now an uncle said he felt sick, so he just fed Ben 7 ounces of milk, took some home-cooked dishes, and went home earlier. Seeing his back as he left, although I can no longer be around to take care of him now, he and his wife can care about each other and love each other more closely, I felt happy that this round of my life relay was smoothly.

My mood improved significantly in the afternoon also, because of news from New England.

Marta, the new owner/slave of our Cat Princess Kara in Rhode Island, sent my daughter a photo of Kara along with news about Kara. Kara is a cat babied by my daughter and myself. My daughter and I were worried that Kara who was born and lived in the East Coast would not be comfortable during the long-distance migration to the West Coast. Because of this, before we moved from Waltham, Massachusetts to San Jose, California, my daughter interviewed several cat lovers and ended up giving Kara to Marta to be taken care of.

The details of giving Kara to Marta in August are still vivid in my mind. Today, the news from Marta that Kara is doing well in Rhode Island, far away from us, brought a happy ending to my chaotic day, because I felt the sweetness of the successful relay of love.

Good news really makes people happy. Thanks for my daughter who adopted Kara and found Kara a good care giver.

Today, our happy Kara in Marta’s home:

(Kara in 2020)

（Kara is babysitting my grandson Ben。2022-05-13）

A story of Wine is really a good thing in 2021 in Waltham Massachusetts.

We set off at 9:40 in the morning and returned around 9:00 in the evening. The cell phone ran out of battery and we were still fully charged, because it is a very refreshing day trip to the beach! The sound of the ocean waves washed away the distracting murmurs in my mind and the dense negative air (oxygen) ions along the seaside replaced the heavy things on my mind…

We drove and stopped freely along the way because we didn’t have a fixed schedule.

After seeing the roadside advertisement of “Five avocados for one dollar”, we agreed to stop and get some bargains before continuing on our way.

We stopped at the roadside vegetable stand which had ample parking space, walked to the stand to look for the five avocados for one dollar sign. We only saw green shiny avocados the size of mangoes for $1.99 each, then we each bought a few very fresh local sweet potatoes and tomatoes, just $0.99 a pound. Ann said she would steam the sweet potatoes, and I said I would make sweet potato porridge. I asked the cashier if she accepted credit cards, and she replied, “Credit cards will add a 79 cent handling fee, cash no fee.”

After getting the goods, I told the casher unwillingly: “I didn’t see five avocados for one dollar as saying on the roadside advertisement.” The casher lady pointed to the store upstairs behind her and said, “Inside, seven for one dollar.” I asked: “So cheap, is it good?” She raised her thumb and nodded. We walked up the stairs and entered the store, where we saw black bumpy avocados that were slightly bigger than eggs with a sign of: seven for one dollar, limited to 14. Since I was here to get a bargain, I happily bought 14 avocados for 2 dollars. As we paid in cash, I made a mental note always bring some cash when going out.

Today’s temperature and wind speed are very pleasant, perfect for a topdown convertible ride on CA Route One along the oceanside! We smelled the scent of canola flowers in the wind and saw a big field of yellow canola flowers. We could also smell the strong ocean salty air in the wind before we even reached the seaside.

We stopped at a viewing point which overlooked the coastline view and the mansions. The azure blue water was beautiful and the sea breeze was refreshing without any chill. Ann, a skillful photographer, captured many of my happy moments. Thank you, Ann!

It seemed like Point Lobos State Natural Reserve was having a big event today, as many cars were parked on the roadside. While driving past the long line of pretty parked cars, I constantly saw people walking towards the gate of the Reserve and I started to feel that many people are also not working on a workday.

The Bixby Bridge is a must-see for me. Today, the parking lot at the corner of the bridge was closed for construction. The parking spaces on the roadside were also full. Again, I felt that many other people are also not working today. From a distance on the roadside parking spot, I saw two young couples facing the Bixby Bridge and taking photos of themselves on the roadside close to the ocean, I felt sweet air floating nearby and quickly took photos to keep the memory.

Walking near the bridge, I remembered seeing a romantic newlywed couple leaving messages on their car window asking for a congratulatory drink through Venmo. I also remembered the time when I jumped up and down more excited than my son here. These are special spiritual tonics that come from revisiting a familiar place and I felt these tonics were silently nourishing my soul.

When I stood at Hurricane Point, which I am familiar with and like, I remembered the scene and mood when I saw a cage of strong little flowers here for the first time after my mother passed away in 2018… In my heart, I comforted my mother in heaven that everything is fine here!

Today’s strong wind that could blow people down was not cold at all, which was rare. I deeply enjoyed the layered and spectacular scenery between the blue sea and the sky: the curved coast, the surging white waves, the steep cliffs, the green grass, the undulating mountains, and Bixby Bridge. Thanks to Ann for suggesting we go out today.

On the way back, we stopped by a roadside that already held many parked cars. After getting out of the car, we followed the people walking along the narrow path among orychophragmus flowers, weeds, and shrubs towards the seaside. We soon went downhill and came to a narrow valley and saw many calla lilies blooming on both sides of a stream flowing down the hill. We had arrived at the Calla Lily Valley!

Personally, I think the calla lilly scene was too small to be worth a special trip, but it was a worthwhile surprise. When I was admiring the beauty of the Flower Valley with a middle-aged lady, I said: “This is my first time here. It’s beautiful.” She replied: “Is my first time too.” Before I could say a word, she smiled and said: “I’m from Colorado.” I didn’t say anything, because her first time was not at the same level as mine, and there was no comparison.

Then I was secretly happy: California is really a good place to live and travel! The ocean waves at the seaside in front of the Flower Valley hit the rocks hard and roared violently, I thought I felt the roughness of the wilderness.

Afterwards, we went to the beach with silver sand at Carmel by the Sea. While sitting on a big wooden trunk on the beach to rest, I thought the scenery of the seaside is really rich and diverse. The silver sand of the beach came with a calm wind and gentle waves which were full of relaxing people and happy dogs. It was a very peaceful scene. I couldn’t help but think of the sweet scene when my grandson Ben was still a single child and he came here to play. Ben is a big brother of a year and half old sister now. I wrote the names of Ben and his younger sister Sue on the silver sand of the beach using my barefoot slowly and joyfully, feeling the happiness of being a grandmother.

After leaving Carmel by the Sea, we stopped by Lover’s Point Park where the purple flowers had not yet bloomed. I was pleasantly surprised to see a beautiful picture of “pink clothes”: an old couple sat on chairs facing the sea, the lady wore a black wide-brimmed hat and a pink short-sleeved shirt and the man wore a white hat with silver hair and a blue short-sleeved shirt.

This sightseeing made me think that pink clothes are suitable for women of any age, because a little story of pink clothes had recently surfaced in my memory. In February, on a Saturday morning, after my daughter and I took my two grandchildren to play in Happy Hollow Park, I squatted and watched them playing in a miniature metal car. My daughter suddenly said that the pink sweater I was wearing was pretty. I was very happy to hear this and felt that this saying was familiar but couldn’t remember where I heard it before. After returning home, I checked my past messages and photos and found that my daughter bought me a very beautiful pink sweater cardigan for my 50th Christmas in 2015 and also wrote me a famous saying: “Women over fifty should always have at least one pink shirt in their wardrobe. It’s much cheaper than a facelift.” In the spring of 2016, I wore that pink sweater went to Golden Gate Park in San Francisco with my daughter: eating my favorite fried sweet potato at Stow Lakeside store, visiting the Japanese Tea Garden and climbed the hill behind the artificial waterfall by the Stow Lake. I also discovered that red quince flowers also come in white, pink, and light green variations! The memories evoked by the pink shirt made me realize that my daughter’s constant love and care for me. I am grateful!

After leaving Lover’s Point, we went to an Italian restaurant by the sea for dinner. Ann noticed that during the dinner service tonight, there were only waiters and no waitresses and that the other diners also did not look like locals. We ordered today’s seasonal meal: freshly caught fish (with vegetable and rice) and fresh scallops (with vegetable and pasta), and one fried squid appetizer. Oh, the free bread was very hard. Tonight’s rice had lots of butter, the pasta had a lot of olive oil, and the fried lemon in the fried squid was very unique. These were all
dishes that we usually did not make at home so we enjoyed them a lot.

We happily returned in the dark and cold with the convertible top up. While chatting about family matters and unforgettable events in the past and seeing the faster cars speeding by, I remembered my daughter had said to me, mocking me for driving slowly: “Mom, you should buy an ‘Asian woman driving’ sticker to put on your car.” Despite this, Ann encouraged me to drive slowly. She also ensured I was on the right path, as I tended to misread the GPS map . I sent Ann home, and she waved goodbye to me in the night. It was a warm and sweet scene, I felt grateful for having Ann as a long time good friend!