One for the Funny papers:

I offered to go and buy some flowers for the Kinder's Chinese New Year celebration. I took the bike and burley so as to fit the flowers in the wagon. I had to ride up on the sidewalk a little of the way because the shop is located on a busy two lane through-way. (*Bicyclists are ignored on the road and when they are noticed the drivers usually honk.) There were lots and lots of plants displayed on the sidewalk as I approached the garden nursery and an elderly, Singaporean man was also trying to walk on the sidewalk so I stopped to pull over but he stepped aside and waved me on. As I passed my wagon accidentally knocked a plant over. I stopped to right it but as I was doing so I heard the old man yell at me,

"So uncivilized!!!"
"No manners!"


I righted the plant but he continued to yell at me. So, against my better judgment I said,

"Uncivilized is when its dangerous for bicyclists to ride on the street."

He didn't stop.
"Don' know how to act!"
I think he was enjoying himself. So I laughed and yelled back at him as I rode away,

"Keep talking!!"

But he was right in a way. When confronted by "people who are like this", I don't know how to conduct myself. I should have thanked him for the practice. Heaven knows I need it!

After all this time I have discovered The Market for Artists and Designers at the Red Dot Traffic building in Singapore.

There is a monthly open market for local artists and I am planning on going to the next one February 12-13.

We have been spending some time with The Ramayana. The shadow puppet above was lent to me by my students O and S who found them in Bali, land of Rama and Sita. This one is Rama. Telling the story again reminds me that this is one tale I will NEVER stop telling/reading/living.

Perhaps we will check out the Ramayana exhibit at the Peranakan Museum before it is over next month.

I continue to work for the Waldorf Association here in Singapore, conduct workshops and help homeschool the lovely G girls. Soon however, I will be handing over things to allow for a smooth transition, at least for our long summer holiday in New England, which includes the much anticipated graduation of our nephew in Ohio and holiday in Maine.

We have rented a large cottage on the water in midcoast Maine in June and look forward to Booty's Ethiopian reunion as well as family and friends dropping by or staying for a few days.

It is wonderful to have something like this in our future!

An update for those who subscribe to the saying, "The Cure for Homesickness is the idea of home":

I had my third "preliminary" job interview early this morning and it put me in a fine mood. Because even if I don't get the job, the idea was discussed at length and put me in a homeward bound mood. That is, content that the "possibility" of going home is still very much a reality.

The next step is actually traveling home to interview in front of the teachers and students. A performance of sorts. Hence my backstage insecurities.

Why do we do it?
Why do we go through the fire and the floods when we could just as easily teach in a much less exposed way?

I think that we are not unlike actors/musicians in that it is the vulnerability that is part of the teaching. It is our very self that is left open to receive what may come. And the willingness to do this for a chance at serving is a kind of gift. Sometimes we fall on our faces and look a fool (that would be me most of the time) but then we get up and try again.

Here I go. Trying again.

Which end is up?
One of the most amazing things about animals and farm life is the opportunity to see farm animals as they really are.

Cows may seem kinda dopey but when you watch them you realize that they are working really hard to digest grass into milk. They chew and chew and chew and digest in their stomachs and you look at them and their bodies are one big giant rectangle of digestion! If only I could chew and chew on things like a cow. I think I might be a little more relaxed and balanced.

And how about chickens? The first time I fell in love with a chicken was at Hawthorn Valley Farm (a place at which I may be interviewing next month). The chicken was running and her little bottom was swaying from one side to another and it filled me with great joy. Sometimes, like in this picture, their bottoms look like their tops. I think because the egg laying (imagine what that feels like day in and out) is a big production and that area of the their body needs the space for the work. Hence the large egg boat on their underside. And was it the week of eating fresh eggs that made this month's cycle for me almost pain free for the first time in years?

It may seem silly to contemplate this is the kind of thing but why must the simple things in life be simplistic? I don't think they are.

Farmer Scott really liked to step on the gas when he gave tractor rides. And he loved to bend my ear when he got a chance about "americans". His accent was incredibly rich and he spoke so fast that when he started talking I missed about half of what he said. He and his wife were excellent hosts and gave us private cuddles with the baby ducks, which Booty loved.



This girl got wilder and bolder as the trip went on. It made us feel very good inside as it seemed that farm life really suited her. And that's the way it should be!

What is with the blackface?

On New Year's day we went to a craft market in Australia's Port Stephens area. We bought home sewn aprons and Macadamia nut butter. It was lovely.

Until we saw all the black face dolls and lawn/garden accessories. I started to look at the toys on sale and spotted a little family of four dolls who were brown and made of wood. And I thought that maybe the Aussies don't know about black face. I tried to buy the little doll set for Booty but she wanted a white plastic doll. When I refused to buy it for her she had a melt down and I heard myself say,

"I will never, never, buy you a white doll! Especially when there are sweet brown dolls!"

That night I found a blackfaced doll in the trunk of toys at the farm. It freaked me out and gave me the jitters. I woke up in the night and heard a noise. It sounded like someone trying to open the door. I woke up H and we went out into the kitchen and it turned out to be a community of rat sized cockroaches trying to find some food or maybe it was the wind banging the door. But it wasn't some kkk dude trying to take my daughter or kill us for loving her.

My husband thought I was over-reacting and said surely these dolls meant something different to Australians. So I did some research.

Check it out:

Oprah in Australia

Golliwog dolls in Australia

Wiki on blackface

And you decide.

We are back from Kookaburra Farm. And still washing the sandy, farm-handy clothes.
Today there is a breeze in Singapore and it feels so nice after the gorgeous weather in Australia.

The farm was everything we wanted and a lot of surprises. We met a couple and their lovely daughter and spent several of our days and nights with them as the girls played so well together. We were sad to say good bye to them. They live in Sydney and we don't know if we will see them again!

On vacation Booty's favorite activities were going in the hen house, picking up the baby chicks, teaching them to fly, and collecting eggs. She also enjoyed riding on Scott's tractor, milking Kaile the calf, and visiting with the ducklings. She fed cows, geese, a skittish pig, a donkey named Ernie and some very loveable goats every day for the week we were there.

If we ever have the opportunity, I would like to have goats and chickens. Sweet friendly creatures!

We found a perfect beach 10 minutes away with tidepools full of fish and snails and rocks for climbing.

At night we grilled outside on the porch while listening to Kookaburra laughter.