Imbolc and the Shadow Mountain Moon
Monday gratefuls: SeoAh. H-Mart. The pan-Asian experience of H-Mart. Inventor of the jet engine. The Wright brothers. Joe. Ruby. The coming snow. Mt. Evans, our weathermaker. Altitude. Those on the front lines of the coronavirus outbreak.
Saw my buddies on the Zoom yesterday. Except for sleep challenged Mark. Did my check in, showed my wounded forearm, listened to brotherly advice about the Murdoch situation. Had to leave right after to drive out to Denver International.
Sunday morning, easy drive in spite of all the construction on I-70. Short term parking. Found SeoAh at carousel 11, her bag had just come. We hugged. She cut her hair. Looks nice.
Since H-Mart sits conveniently between DIA and Conifer, we made the obligatory trip there so SeoAh could stock up on groceries familiar to her. It’s huge. A warehouse with a grocery store, furniture, kitchenware, and cosmetics preferred by Asians. Plus a couple of small eating places.
Foods not familiar to Hoosier eyes dominate. Dried persimmons that looked like big mushroom caps, live flounder, kimchi cabbage, kimchi green onions, frozen bags of pot stickers, mochi ice cream, bags of oyster flavored ramen. All colorful, stacked neatly in spite of the many shoppers.
Here’s a Chinese woman investigating the bok choy. A Filipino man following his wife with the grocery cart. An Indian man buying a bag of basmati rice. Up near the front are pallets of 25 and 50 pounds sacks of rice. Our checkout clerk, Armenian, gave me a verbal recipe for dolma. This is probably the most international spot in all of the Denver metro.
After shopping, we went to the Pho restaurant across the parking lot. We’ve eaten there before. SeoAh loves pho. “Pho in Singapore is awful. I’m so glad to have American pho.” Ha. We were catching up. She saw my wounds and shook her head, “Murdoch.”
Derek sent me a text while we were driving. He wanted to come in the yard and get some more wood. He was here Saturday. I was gonna help him, but had to take Kate over to Ed Smith’s office. He’s cutting up previously downed trees into six foot or so logs, then carrying them to his house. Not easy. Logs are heavy. Symbiotic. We need to get rid of the wood; Derek needs to burn it.
When Murdoch smelled SeoAh under the kitchen door, his whole body quivered. He jumped up on the glass, whined. She came out and they had a sweet reunion, like in those videos of vets returning home to their dogs. He licked her, twisted, jumped up, smiled. A big, big smile.
“We’ll fix it,” she says. I hope so. Relieved and happy that she’s here.
A lot of driving over the last three days: into Denver Friday for dinner with Jon, over to Ed Smith’s office on Saturday, out to DIA for SeoAh yesterday.
Apropos of nothing but weirdness: It was 74 in Denver yesterday. Tomorrow morning the low up here will be around -6. Plus snow.