Sea Cucumber anyone?

We have just returned home from another safe journey to China. I was able to get some reading and work done while Bob was at meetings. I realize now that the anxiety of traveling to places like China is being so far away from home and not knowing an area and more importantly a culture. With it being my second time there I was far more comfortable exploring a bit of Beijing on my own. Sharon (not sure of her Chinese name) made every effort to ensure our visit was enjoyable. She took me to lunch just to visit about anything but work. She then invited us to attend a concert at a church. We did not understand the magnitude of the invitation. It was very exclusive and had guards standing around the church every ten feet. Amazing orchestra, choir, and soloist from Germany!

We had to ride the subway to get to the concert. As we stepped out we found ourselves in Beijings version of "Time Square". It was beautiful and by the way, their subways were much cleaner than NYC!

The people here have been so kind. OK, so maybe not the taxi cab drivers. I learned that though their voice inflections are severe...and a bit raised...that is just the way they communicate. They could be proclaiming there undying love to someone and sound like they wanted to punch them in the nose. This was something I had to get use to. We did get to experience more of the food eaten by the locals.It is always a bit risky. I was able to get through almost every meal without too much anxiety. Bob on the other hand had a business dinner that defied all logic. This particular blog is not for those with tender stomachs...so ye be warned! The picture of Bob and I is at a restaurant used by the locals. The black things were fungus. Yes, I just kept telling myself..."it's a mushroom". It didn't help.Bob had the opportunity to be served a "sea cucumber" at a business dinner (no I was not there). He asked if it was a vegetable and much to his dismay his host said...No...it's a worm. They mine it from the bottom of the ocean and it is a rare delicacy. They take out all the insides, make it into a chunky gravy and serve the flesh of the worm, whole, on top. Hmmm...yummy. The picture that looks like a cucumber...yes that is what they served him and no he did not eat it...well one small tiny bite just to be polite.
As always it is good to be back home. I could not blog while in Beijing cyberspace so here it is ... a bit late and forgetting something I'm sure.
My next blog will be about fish you catch from the "top" of the ocean like salmon...
Loves...

I love you Dad...

Today was my fathers 80th birthday. Those of us that live here in Arizona, came to celebrate it with him. Cathy, Barry and Christina were there as well as Brad, Lael and kids and Chelsee and

Ben. Mom wanted to make sure to mark the event with family, pictures and of course his favorite dessert...Cherry Cheesecake. Now that he seemed to remember! My Dad is in the final stages of Alzheimers and this disease is nothing like what they show in the movies. His words are gone except on a few rare moments when he can respond with a correct yes or no. Even then, I think we just get lucky. For me, the best moment is always when I come to visit and he looks at me and in just a few seconds begins to smile. This is always followed by a warm hug and a kiss. His brain cannot remember my name or that I am his daughter but his heart remembers...I am certain of it.

So with my blessing of memory I would like to share with you who my father was to me. He was big and strong and always carried me to my bed when I had fallen asleep in the car after we had all gone to the drive-in movies in Emmett Idaho. I was always just awake enough to be aware that he was doing this for me. It still warms my heart to think about it. He was handsome. I was always proud of the way my Dad took care of himself. He struggled to provide but never stopped trying and Mom always made it stretch enough. My mom use to say that a woman can shovel more out the back door with a spoon than a man can bring in the front door with a shovel. Mom was always careful with her spoon. My Dad loved me and I knew it. I use to think that Dad called me specifically everyday to tell me he loved me. Now I realize I probably just answered the phone a lot. But it made a difference in my self image. Fathers have no idea the influence they can have on their daughters self worth. If she feels loved and accepted by him, they will not go try to find approval in the wrong place with the wrong boy. His greatest lesson to me was love. Dad and I chose different religious paths. Regardless of that difference he never discouraged me from my activity in mine. It was not until I was in my adult years and a parent myself, that I realized what his actions meant. He loved me enough to let me choose, regardless of our difference. That took a lot of unconditional love and I will always be grateful for his example and tolerance.

So Dad, here's to you and our memories of the heart.

I love you

Christi