How the Cookie Crumbles

Life and scribbles on the far side of SIXTY-FIVE


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Popping in and Out (Post #450)

Hello, lovely blogging friends!

I’ve been held up doing the rounds since I started poking around a bit yesterday. Thank you for the lovely e-mails over the summer although I avoided my keyboard most of the time. I wasn’t home much and at times my laptop was broken under attack of one kind or another.

I confess the summer vanished much too quickly. Whoosh! You cannot believe the trying circumstances situations I found myself in time and again. Nothing like a little excitement to keep the old ticker going, or more likely, almost squash it like a plum.

IMG_1369

The top three headliners of my summer were:

  1. I got hacked (cost over $200 to clean laptop but no banking information lost and new cards now)
  2. The same tooth abscessed twice. After antibiotics, a week later, again. Had it pulled. Lots of problems afterwards. Ouches.
  3. Windows10 messed up laptop. Best Buy removed and now Windows 8.1 again. Desktop was okay, but Windows 10 messed that up yesterday.

I won’t bore you with the rest of it.

Some pluses were spending a couple days with one sister and a couple more in cottage country with all four sisters.

Now, I n.e.e.d. a vacation. My fourth sister to retire did so in April and when I heard her ‘thinking’ how to celebrate, I was in. Snap! Yeah like that and asked point blank where she wanted to go and I was coming.

We are going to Newfoundland and Labrador soon. Exchange rates for the Canadian dollar are heart-stopping and I’m glad Mary found something domestic. Sigh. A vacation is a vacation—no, she’s not paying… Maybe I should have negotiated that small detail.  *giggles* This sounds an amazing corner of Canada with mind-boggling views.

There you have it. I’ll be flitting in and out for the next week and a half and then take to the sky and away for a couple weeks.

I appreciate all of your welcomes and smiles. Feels like I’ve been away from home, but now I’m back.

When I come back, my worth ethic will change. Instead of clearing the decks (e-mail, blogging, commenting) first thing every day, I won’t get to any of that till much later in the day. I may not be a constant as before, but I plan to visit every chance I get.

What’s with WordPress making unwanted changes again? I don’t like Reader and I’ve noticed now one follows in Reader. Sheesh. Another thing: why makes the menu bar spastic and how does one stop it?

 


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#BlogBattle Week 12

It’s that time again. This week’s prompt is ...horde…

If you want to play, click below for the rules

http://rachaelritchey.com/blogbattle/

You’re A Lifesaver

This isn’t the life Gracie had pictured. The newspaper scrunched between her hands crinkled and grumbled, but not for long. She heaved the wad across the room and glared at the ink stains on her hands. Greasy fish and chips in newsprint or wrapped potato peels never bothered her, but the stink of ink on her hands made her queasy.

No matter her disguise, someone always found her out. Time to move again. She hated starting over and hated to think how many times she’d been uprooted in the past three years. Her phone vibrated in her jeans pocket. The number seemed familiar but not the name. She picked up. Damn, a breather.

“Wait, don’t hang up.” A male voice, whiny, wheezing.

“I don’t need whatever you’re selling.”

“Gracie, it’s me.”

“I’m going to hang up now. Bye.” Hate strangers calling me by name. She flicked her thumb to hang up.

“Wait, it’s me, Bob. Long time.” He forced a smile into his voice. “Saw your picture in the paper today.”

“Bob? You’re the last person I want to talk to. How’d you get this number?” She strode from the kitchen into the living-room, kicking the clump of print out of her way.

“Hear me out, will you.” He puffed and rasped into her ear.

“Answer me. Who gave you this number?” Gracie wound her pony tail round a hand, a nervous habit from her teens. “Bob? Tell me!”

“Don’t want to get anyone into trouble—“

“Who?”

“Your m-m-other?”

“Oh, you two are tight now, are you? No way. What lies did you tell her?” She yanked the handful of hair till tears sprang in her eyes and bit her lip, to not cry out. She released the hair. “What’s wrong with your breathing?” She prowled the living-room like a cat. “Not that I need to know, but you do sound peculiar.”

“I need a quadruple bypass but I don’t have the money.” A horn honked in the background and an eee-uuu eee-uuu of a firetruck screamed past, then silence.

Forehead pinched, she pulled the cell away and gaped at the screen, then brought it back. “Bob?”

“Yeah. I’m here. I needed a deep breath. So what do you say, can we make a deal?”

“How long’s it been? Five years? You tried fleecing me before the divorce and now you’re looking for a handout? This sound fair to you? She stomped into the kitchen and plugged in the kettle.

“Please, Gracie. You’ve won millions in the lottery and shared not a dime.”

“We were already divorced, remember? She slammed down a mug and ripped open a packaged teabag, her favorite, Lemon Thriller. The kettle whistled. She flicked the off switch. “How much?”

“I can be there in ten minutes.”

She frowned, nose wrinkled in distaste. “You know where I live? Oh yes— Mother.” Her hand sliced the air. “No. I’ll call my bank and have it couriered. Will two-hundred and fifty grand do?”

“You’re a lifesaver. I’ll pay you back. Promise.”

“No you won’t. Keep it. It’s yours.” Arrangements made, they hung up. Gracie rubbed her temples and removed the elastic from her hair. No point adding to the tension headache blooming at the back of her head. She glanced at the clock as a key turned in the lock. Right on time. Time enough to call her bank manager first. Punching in the number from her phone directory, she listened to her sister slam the powder room door and smiled. Girls will be girls.

“Bye, Don and thanks.”

Heloise rushed in. “Which Don? Your bank manager, Don? Have I news. You won’t guess who’s been hounding Mom—”

“Bob.”

“She called? That’s a surprise.”

“Nope. Bob did. I can’t believe she gave him my information. Phone, maybe, but my address?”

“She’s almost 90, Sis. Getting soft.”

“Which reminds me. How would you like to live in Spain for a while? Everywhere I go, a horde of vultures awaits. Three years I’ve played cat and mouse with photographers and needy humanity. Someone always wants something. And now Bob. Time to leave town and move house while I’m gone. You call the travel agency and pick something you like and I’ll call my realtor. The sooner we leave, the better.

“So what’s Bob’s story? Mom said he sounded older than her, gasping for air and all. She couldn’t wait to be rid of him. Afraid he’d die on her.”

“So, that’s why she caved. Huh.”

“Saw you on the front page again. You’re quite the philanthropist—the childrens’ wing this time. ”

“I can’t do anything without a big deal. Why can’t organizations keep quiet like I ask? Even beg.”

* * *

A couple weeks later, Gracie toweled off after a refreshing swim in the pool one evening. The villa was magnificent. Maybe I’ll never go home again. Heloise stumbled down the steps towards her holding a cell as far away as her arm stretched.

“What’s wrong? Is it Mom?”

Heloise nodded like a dashboard bobble head. “Mom fell and broke an arm and hip. She’s not good.”

“How fast can we get a flight out?”

* * *

The funeral took place ten days after the sisters arrived home. They attended with their mother, who had been ensconced in a state-of-the-art wheelchair. She’d insisted on making the service though pain showed in her eyes.

Bob died of a massive heart attack. A life-long spend-thrift and drinker, he’d partied hard with his new found wind-fall and so-called friends. Everyone marvelled he’d lived to 67.

The End

© 2015 Tess and How the Cookie Crumbles. All Rights Reserved.


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Day 21: Macau (cont’d)

I tried multi-tasking take pictures, scribble notes, and look around in an effort not to miss anything we passed. While taking pictures, I had a fear of dropping my pen and losing it. Pens are not left in hotel rooms for guests as they are in North America and my gel pens were running low on ink.

We arrived at the hotel and were dropped off as close to the south door as the driver managed. The check-in area was jam-packed. We were instructed to stand off the side. Our new local guide, Cheryl, and the French guide attended to our registration and room cards. You wouldn’t believe how fast the process took. Our luggage, already in our rooms Tower 2, room 1362, all we had to do was freshen up and the rest of the day was free. Unlike the Sheraton hotel the previous night, this one did not feature the glass wall between the bedroom and bathroom.

From our window (Room 1362, Tower 2), this was our view. Ugly. Cranes everywhere. On a site on the way to our hotel, I counted at least 10 Macau China State Construction cranes. Must be more hotels coming.

  • Sheraton Macau 3, 800+ rooms (the largest Sheraton in the world)
  • Has two towers: called Earth and Sky
  • Built on reclaimed land
  • Like a huge city inside
  • Huge reception area with half-dozen counters at Check-in each one roped off
  • Palm tree setting in sitting area off the check-in area
  • No passports necessary: this is visa-free territory
  • Huge casino across from check-in behind a wall
  • Huge Ralph Lauren Store, the first one off the lobby
  • Huge shopping mall off the lobby
  • Can convert money with local guide or at hotel (to Hong Kong money)
  • Steering wheel is on the right
  • Driving is on the left side of the road
  • Bus drivers have no problem making U-turns

Sue and I set off exploring. The first escalator we came upon confused me. There were two: side-by-side. Odd, I thought. Both were headed downward. The ascending ones must be on the other side. Sue laughed when I mentioned this. “Have another look,” she said. I had to concentrate. Not only do cars drive on the opposite side of the road here, and drivers sit on the ‘wrong’ side, the elevators run opposite as well. The up elevator was on the left where at home it would be on the down elevator.

This is the first time we had to find our own dinner. We explored the Food Court on the third floor.  Since we’d seen KFC, MacDonald’s and Starbucks in places already, we’d hoped to eat something North American (think burger or pizza). No such luck.

We decided to explore the Venetian Macau Hotel across the street. Taking an elevator in a different direction we crossed the street (without going outside) via an overhead (tube) bridge.

The street below the overhead bridge on the way to the Venetian.

The place is massive. Brand name stores everywhere. Six hundred of them. Lots of people but few customers buying up diamonds, exotic perfumes, or outrageous shoes. We were lost but found a map. A sales clerk selling make-up, although she spoke good English, couldn’t help us. Upon sighting a gondola in a canal, it was tempting to whistle the gondolier over but we didn’t. Finally, the food court. All Chinese food. Wait. A Fat Burger. Better not after the raw pork incident. Is that a Pizza Pizza? Nope the logo wasn’t right. We settled for pizza.

The Sheraton is the largest hotel not only in Macau, but in the world, and the Venetian has the largest casino.

Breaking News: (sorry for the commercial)

Macau Slowdown

~ * ~

Next on May 22nd: Macau, Day 21 (cont’d) on to Hong Kong

For more related posts, click on China tab at the top of the page

© 2015Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles. All Rights Reserved.


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100-Word Challenge for Grownups

Click here to join:

100wcgu-72

The prompt this week is the picture below plus 100 words.

100wcgu175 img_0640

A Fine Sunday

“My granddaddy worked on the docks across there. You listening, Llewellyn?”

“Sure.”

“Where’s your mind at this fine Sunday?”

“It’s nothing.”

Zelma patted the dog. “Our one day off together and your mind’s someplace else?”

“I’ve sorting out to do.”

She backed away. “Like what?”

“Things.” He swiped a forearm across his greasy forehead. “The Rover car factory is opening soon and advertising for workers.”

“You don’t know anything about…”

“I already quit…”

“The Missus cut my hours, and soon I’ll stop altogether.”

“Don’t worry— Stop?”

“I have news. You’ll be a daddy before Christmas.”

“Impossible.”

“This ain’t the Bible.”

 

© 2015 All Rights Reserved Tess and How the Cookie Crumbles


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100-Word Challenge for Grownups – Week #174

Click here to join in

Prompt this week:  …all seven were just arguing amongst themselves… + 100 words

100wcgu-72

Where There’s a Will

As Nurse Nancy dashed in, all seven were just arguing amongst themselves.

“We sell the house first.”

“I don’t agree!”

“Let’s auction everything—”

“You buzzed?” She scanned the silent bed.

Harry frowned; his siblings shook their heads. A thin hand rose, then flopped like a beached trout on the crisp sheets. Nurse Nancy rushed forward; the seven trailed behind.

“Mrs. Mitchell—Annie. What can I get you?”

“Water, please? And a bedpan?”

“Right away.”

Harry froze, paled.

“Your mother needs privacy.” Hands gesturing, she shooed them out.

“I thought she was dead—”

“You were wrong. Call my lawyer.” The voice intensified. “I’m changing my will.”

 

© 2015 All Rights Reserved Tess and How the Cookie Crumbles


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Guilin: Day 19, Part 2 – Out and About

Next stop South Sea Pearl Museum

Upon arrival, we were whisked through a five-minute presentation about the colour of pearls. Glassy-eyed, the husbands trailed behind. A runway fashion show followed with five formally dressed beauties displaying pearl earrings, rings, bracelets, and necklaces. Afterwards, we were whisked through double-doors into the salesroom with a flourish. The room was divided into three sections: good, medium, and best. One of the ladies in our group bought river pearls for 1,500 Yuan (about $250.00 USD.

Quick Facts:

  • Fresh water pearls are an irregular shape (not round)
  • Sea water pearls always round, only white, black and gold
  • Lots of iron in the water = black colour
  • Lots of copper in the water = purple, pink
  • Chinese females don’t wear gold pearls as they don’t look good against their skin colour
  • North Americans wear pink, white and black

The store glittered with enough brilliance to blind a stone statue. Hordes of sales staff—all young females—materialized out of nowhere. A sales assistant seemed to be available for every person through the door. The French group had arrived ahead of us and were already engaged in energetic persuasion. I wasn’t interested in pearls and wandered about, but returned to the front of the room where the husbands waited. An bar stool, facing the sales floor, presented an empty seat. I climbed on, a latte and wine bar at my elbow. Free? Not a chance. A convenient price list (in English) hung in full view. I’m grateful I wasn’t thirsty and didn’t bother checking out the prices.

Health Care:

  • A combination of Chinese and Western medicine
  • Western Medicine is faster
  • Chinese medicine has no side effects (so it’s thought)
  • You never want to drink the ‘healthy’ soup (I heard it’s worse than what ails you)

Lunch:

  • Corn soup (the most delicious from all others since arrival in China)
  • Chili and soy sauces
  • Rice with corn, pieces of carrot and egg
  • Celery and chestnuts, stir fried
  • Sweet and sour chicken with chunks of tomato wedges
  • Hot beef with green peppers and onions in a skillet (awesome)
  • Spring rolls
  • Bamboo chicken ( deep fried, on stick, spicy and delish)
  • Eggplant with tomato wedges and green peppers
  • Soft cooked (egg?) noodles with slivered red peppers and green (?) leaf and stalk vegetable
  • Watermelon slices
  • Tea
© 2015 All Rights Reserved Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles

© 2015 All Rights Reserved Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles

Today the plates are the largest we’ve had for any meal; bigger than a saucer and larger than a bread-and-butter-plate. Lots of oil used as in most all dishes and restaurants in China, but most delicious lunch I’ve had since arriving in China. Again, I’m stuffed, having scooped only one spoonful of each of the offerings.

After lunch, and for the first time, a liquor  was offered at 14 Yuan a shot glass (approximately $2.30 USD), but there were no takers. As well, a bit later, ice-cream and cappuccino were offered. Carolyn thought it was free so she ordered one of each. It turns out it wasn’t free. She turned it down and no-one else was interested either.

Jokes

When your wife catches you with another woman, you are completely finished.

If your wife likes to shop a lot, you are finished completely.

~ * ~

On March 20th:  No posting (on March Break)

Next up on March 27th:  Guilin, Day 19, Part 3 – Elephant Trunk Park

For more related posts, click on China tab at the top of the page

© 2015 All Rights Reserved Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles


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Wuchan: Day 12, Part 3- The Cruise Ship

A quick supper was offered shortly after our arrival on the cruise ship. Although, we’d been provided with a meal during our flight, I have no memory of what it had been. Salad is all I remember at dinner on the ship around 8:00 p.m. Most everyone in our group tucked into romaine salad because we’d been told food served on board was washed in bottled water. Our first non-Chinese food in 12 days!

No spirits were free on our first night, but local beer and wine were promised beginning with the next day’s lunch and onward. Of course, we could purchase a bottle of wine if we wanted one.

Soft drinks, water, coffee, local beer and wine would be gratis, as much as we wanted. Any alcohol, other than the local product supplied, had to be purchased. (i.e. Australian wine: Jacob’s Creek was $40.00 a bottle) Chinese wines are competitive world-wide and supposedly quite good. I didn’t understand why imported wine was on offer. Why not push their own top-of-the-line wines for tourist sampling and free advertising?

The Wine Market and Drinking Habits in China (not same as tour guide informed)

http://www.agr.gc.ca/eng/industry-markets-and-trade/statistics-and-market-information/by-region/asia-pacific/the-wine-market-in-china-opportunities-for-canadian-wine-exporters/?id=1410083148667#d

The Importance of the Yangtze River:

 

Sue had trouble opening our room safe. We advised the Registration desk and a young girl with limited English arrived. She wasn’t successful, but left for help. It took some finagling and at last, the man (non-English speaking) set the safe to rights.

Our room was a little cramped, but that’s to be expected and we’d lucked our with a balcony.

After our welcome, yet unexpected buffet, (I can’t remember anything but the greens and lots of vegetables), I asked one of our group if I he had a corkscrew I might borrow. Indeed he did. Meanwhile, I took a chance, (adventurous me) and asked at the bar  if I might borrow a cork screw temporarily. They gave me one. Remember the wine I purchased off Nanjing Road during our previous day’s shopping spree? It was good, considering the price of wine on boardindeed a bargain.

There wasn’t time to allow my wine to breath. Still, it wasn’t bad at $12.00 CAD (label name Dynasty, the other one advertised as decent, had been The Great Wall, I think). This is around the price we’d pay for a similar product at home.

I enjoyed two half-glasses before bed while typing up my China notes. Sue wanted to sleep so I cut it short. Other nights I’d been the party pooper; tonight was her turn. I would have liked to stay up another half-hour to complete my notes, but it had been a long day and I fell into bed. The ship had begun to move and I fell asleep.

For the first time since the start of this trip, I felt my cat, Lady Gaga’s absence and missed my fur ball. We’re only half-way home, and I don’t know if I can wait that long to see her. I wonder what she’ll do when I get home. Will she pout and turn up her tail, or come running for a hug?

IMG_0997

 NOTE:

I have been fighting with WP last night and the past two hours this morning. It kept freezing up on me. Now I have a headache.

~ * ~

Next on December 12, On the Yangtze River, Day 13, Part 1

For more related posts, click on China tab at the top of the page

© 2014 All Right Reserved TAK


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Shanghai, Day 11, Part 5 – Nanjing Road Shopping and Stories

Tummies full, we left the restaurant around 12:45 and the weather had become humid.

http://www.travelchinaguide.com/cityguides/shanghai/west-nanjing-road.htm (what’s on offer)

The shopping is pedestrian-friendly  with an occasional trolley / mini tour bus. Prominent other than McDonalds and Haagen-Daaz, were expensive big label stores. I wondered how the young couples afforded their clutched brand-named shopping bags.

The English Group 8 turned down (yet another) museum tour which added more (boring) shopping time. This time Sue and I struck out together. Four hours to kill. My poor aching feet.

On a shabby side street a couple of blocks from Nanjing Road, I bought a bottle of Dynasty wine in a grocery / variety store ($10.00 CAD / $8.00 USD). Not one corkscrew was in stock. I borrowed from Sue as I had siphoned all the cash out of my wallet for the silk-filled comforter and pillow before lunch.

If we needed the Happy House, Jackie advised any large hotel would accommodate us. Our choice was the Sofitel Hotel where, upon entering, we found ourselves facing a security guard. Nervous, but avoiding eye-contact, these fine western ladies strutted in as if we belonged and ended up (confused) on the garage level. Ph-ew the gas fumes.

Sue spotted a glass elevator. A tall Caucasian man, briefcase clutched, got on behind us. He had come from Michigan on business eight years before and considered himself a local now, his return to the U.S. doubtful. He pointed us to the closes ladies’ washroom.

Shopping Nanjing Road  (pictures galore)

Out on the street again, Sue spied a Haagen-Daaz restaurant. The timing couldn’t have been better for a good sit with ice-cream. We entered with Sue in the lead. A waitress stopped me at the door and said wrong way. The lineup at the opposite end of the restaurant was where we must enter. Oh? Back out to the sidewalk and the other door we trotted to join hordes of others. It didn’t take long, though, before we were seated.

We waited—and waited some more. Three young girls who’d arrived after us had already been given menus. We waited. With the earlier rush over, I chalked this up to bad service. We wondered about foreigner abuse, as well. A girl finally came bearing water glasses containing lemon wedges and menus. We didn’t touch the water.

At length, a waitress toddled over and took our order. One scoop of ice cream (chocolate with pralines) cost 33 Yuan each ($5.50 USD). We waited and waited for our order to arrive, but I didn’t mind. It was a relief to take a load off and sit.

Our bill took forever to come. I wondered why not go up to the cash with our dish to show what we’d ordered and pay. At home we’d have done this no problem, but Sue, usually brave about most things, wasn’t comfortable doing so. In the end, we did so anyway, but the cashier appeared frazzled. His rhythm had been broken and he made us wait. Again. I now owed Sue 83 Yuan, (not quite $14.00 US).

© 2014 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles

© 2014 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles

Two things I noticed while we window-shopped. Beggars were uncommon. We had been discouraged from interacting with them. I noticed only two: one a disfigured man shortly after the bus dropped us off; the second, a miserable old man who shook a rusty tin can in our faces wanting a donation while we sat in a park. He rattled the meagre contents however we ignored him. He scowled and moved on, but sneered over his shoulder. I hoped he hadn’t put a curse on us.

Except for few citizens over the age of 40 or 50, most everyone on the street appeared to be under 25 or 30.
~ * ~

Next on November 14th, Shanghai, Day 11, Part 6 – Dinner and a Show

For more related posts, click on China tab at the top of the page

© 2014 All Right Reserved TAK


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Xian to Souzhou, Day 9, Part 1 – Jade Tour and a Flight

The day began at 5:00 a.m. and not on a good note. Sue hadn’t slept well and we had no hot water for showers. I didn’t bother, but Sue did. My hair needed washing so I stuck it underneath the tap. Brr. Cold.

We’d been instructed to leave our luggage outside the door before 7:45 a.m. As Sue pushed hers against the wall I rolled mine over the thresh-hold and—slam—locked us out. Down to the front desk and back up again we were relieved to return with the assistant manager and her life-saving master key. Our purses with passports and money were still there. Whew. We reported the cold water situation to save the next visitors the headache.

© 2014 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles

© 2014 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles (Taken from 10th floor on our way to breakfast)

The pieces carved out of jade were fascinating: The workmanship was astonishing with delicate and intricate detail but too expensive for me. I don’t need jade jewelry either and certainly don’t have room for anymore dust collectors. I’m trying to down-size collectibles. Bonnie and Russ bought a tricky jade piece featuring five (or seven) balls, one inside the other, which were all moveable, but do not come apart.

© 2014 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles

© 2014 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles (Jade carving)

Below are pictures of some of the fantastic jade pieces:

https://www.google.ca/search?q=jade+carvings+in+ancient+china&rlz=1C1EODB_enCA562CA564&espv=2&biw=1242&bih=585&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=VrYlVKG1MMyyyATbrYHQAw&ved=0CBwQsAQ

We headed to the airport after the Jade romp to catch our one hour and forty-five minute fight to Souzhou. At security two suitcases from our group set off alarms. Jim had one of the problem suitcases and Russ the other. Scanning revealed 15 or so ‘A’ batteries stored in his luggage were the culprits. The last flight he’d been told to store them there. This time, they were pulled out and he was advised to them into his carry-on. I’m not sure what problem Jim had. The screaming baby must have fallen asleep. We finally boarded at 12:30 p.m., taxied and lifted skyward.

Lunch was served on the plane. The Stewart threw (not dropped) the boxed meal onto my table. He moved so fast, some noodles spilled into my lap and he didn’t even noticed. Not a good day for him either. Other than the spilled noodles, I don’t remember eating.

Upon landing, I reached for my carry-on in the overhead. By accident, my hand landed not on top of the seat in front of mine, but on the head of the man who sat there. What a fuss he made. You’d think I’d assaulted him. The Chinese language, when the speaker talks loudly sounds enraged to me. I used my most soothing voice to apologize. He didn’t need to understand the words. Wouldn’t you know, I had him on my radar all the way into the airport. While Chinese people appear to invade your space in a crowd and fill any available space, they do not touch anyone around them.

© 2014 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles

© 2014 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles

Insert Image #464 (a boatload of people on the canal in Old Town) © 2014 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles

We were met by, Jackie, our new guide, a tall, attractive man of thirty-eight with an easy going style and a great command of English. The bus ride to Souzhou took a couple of hours. The city is known as The Garden City or Venice of the East because of its many canals.

Next on October 3, Day 9, Part 2 – Old Town Market (and more). Lots of pictures.

For more related posts, click on China tab at the top of the page

© 2014 All Right Reserved TAK


79 Comments

100-Word Challenge for Grown-ups – Week #149

If you’d like to try this challenge, click below:

http://jfb57.wordpress.com/2014/09/22/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week149/

This week’s prompt … union … + 100 words

100wcgu-72

THE FIX

“Never in a trillion years—” Arms and fists rigid, Jeannette grit her teeth.

“Turn around and look at me, okay?” Paul’s forehead glistened. “I’m sure you’ve misunderstood.”

She threw up her hands, palms open, fingers wide. “I don’t think so.”

“Please. Look at me.”

“Powerful man, your father. He’d stoop this low, would he?”

“Don’t—”

“So, this union, our marriage—a farce to hide his dirty little secret—”

“I swear…”

“You knew about this. Your problem; you fix it without me.”

“Me?”

Hands on hips, she swivelled around. “Nobody’s touching  my money.”

“Honey—”

“How could you?” Slam.

 

© 2014 TAK