inglorious wanderer

Thanks to my Arizona sisterhood friend T for my new identity as a tree hugger. I love the idea. This tree hugging thing started in Canada. Cousin Aurel took the photo when I visited him in Nanaimo in Vancouver Islands. He and wife Ching took me to a place called Goats on Roof. A restaurant, a grocery and an ice-cream house all under the roof where the goats graze.

I met up with another meetup group today. Hikers raising funds for children's cancer research? Interesting! Daniel K did cry about children dying of cancer. A female hiker handed him a was of Kleenex to dry his tears. A 6 foot plus inches bald guy drying his tears over a child who died too soon. I was a mere observer. I refused to be a participant in shedding a tear for those children. I could emphatize with the parents who had since celebrated the lives of their children they tried so hard to save. The tears of Daniel was out of place. Not on the trailhead of Daley Ranch. It was an 8.5 mile hike in a loop. I did not want to hike alone. The meetup group was a way to hike safely. I never returned the form committing myself to the cause of group with my credit card information.

"This one's for the instutute." Beng and I meant it in good faith. We were at the summit of West Tiger Mountain in Issaquah, Washington wishing well for the Institute for Labor Studies. It was at the institute that I came to know and understand more about decent work. Those were the days when I thought I would never have to get to know Ayeddis Vahkkendjaab. It was another sweet reunion for the institute with Beng. The last time I met with Beng was five years ago before Beng would join her husband in Australia. The hike was for old times, five years ago and beyond five years ago, when the institute was a family I considered. It was a time to be feel lucky for being able to get away. Not from the institute but from a bleak future of making a career in government service as labor and employment officers for labor policy research. Every now and then, I would still look back and pat myself on the back for the best decision I ever made: coming to America and plucki...