It’s a “travel week” here in Georgia. I’m writing this on June 1st at the Atlanta airport. This morning Sunny’s flying in from Nebraska, Sophy from California, Lisa from New York and Anna from Oregon - all around noon. Charles put a hard-shell luggage carrier on the roof of the Navigator because he didn’t trust it to hold the luggage 4 girls could bring.

My parents left last Saturday for Warsaw to join “Doctors Without Borders.” Charles, Leong and I drove them to the airport and then we took Leong to “The Mad Italian” for the best steak & cheese sandwiches on this side of andromeda.

Sunday was a typical lake day. We tied off in our favorite cove and were quickly joined by everyone who could get on a boat. Imagine that Dunkirk movie - except this was a get together - with motorboats, sailboats, skiffs, pontoon boats and canoes all crowding the little bay.

Leong’s an avril lavigne - who knew? On Monday, I surprised her with something green - a trip to “Fun Galaxy” roller-skating rink. I made reservations for a “birthday party” and a group of 15 of us had the rink to ourselves all morning (and cake). I thought I was a skater but Leong’s legit. She says that in Macau you either skate on the street (rough terrain and dangerously between cars) or at one of several huge multisport pavilions where the rinks are cement and resemble our skateboard courses.

She’d never seen an air-conditioned, basketball-court-smooth-hardwood, disco-lit, rock concert sounding, American roller rink. It was love at first sight. She spins, does double lutzes, skates faster backwards than I can forwards, and the manager threatened to pull her off the floor for doing backflips (“There are liability issues,” he insisted.) She was also amazed because there was a built-in diner. At home, she said, you have to bring your own water and sometimes your own toilet paper (toilets are completely different in Asia - don’t get me started on THAT).

Yesterday, Leong, Kim and I were waiting for a Facetime call, to coordinate today’s arrivals.
Before that though, at my behest, Kim helped me ferret-out - Holmes & Watson like - the dire skinny on something, and we, as long time besties and co-conspirators, had a plan.
“Did you know Rob Chen was class valedictorian this year?” Kim asked the room.
“No!, congratulations Rob,” I said.
“Yea, Rob,” Leong echoed nonchalantly.
“We’re so proud of Rob.” Kim continues.
“But, you know,” I said seriously, “there are Rob haters out there. I understand it - he’s hateable,” I expand.
“ek,” Kim blurted, like a little bird, at Leong’s reaction as Leong gasps, “What.. Why?”
“Because he dresses ugly!” I explained.
Kim, unable to curb her excitement, squeaks out loud.
Leong looked at Kim, shocked, Kim was looking down and rocking with the effort of silence.
“That’s not enough REASON,” Leong blurts, “to hate someone!
Again, Leong looked to Kim for agreement and got none.
“I don’t hate YOU,” Leong says, turning on me.

There’s a moment of shocked silence.

“WOW.. wow,” I say, as Kim nervously snickered with glee.
“First of all,” I begin, between my own chuckles, a defense:
“I’m wearing a very **** black ensemble but not exactly dressed to go OUT, (Kim laugh-coughed) and SECOND,” I pause for drama-queen effect.
“YOU,” I say, turning my head significantly and accusingly, towards Leong, slightly askew for a better view, “seem to have quite a few hickies on your neck this morning.”
Kim can't stand it any more and squeals, full out, with delight.
“You, need,” Leong said, pausing just before she lunges at me playfully, to put her hand over my mouth, “to cut off THAT line,”
“I knew it.. I KNEW it!” I say, bobbing and turning my head away as Leong pins me with her body while still trying to mug me and we’re all howling with laughter now.
“Those are Rob Chen hickies! - I. KNEW. IT.”

The facetime ring interrupts us and Leong reluctantly lets me go to answer it.
We all sober as she moves to press “Accept.”
“Let me just loop-back to say,” I looked at Kim with elementary-dear-Watson satisfaction, and said to Leong, “you didn’t deny it,”
Leong blushes crimson as the call begins.

"I've always been the type of person who left too soon. Whose feet are tied to antique cars and motorboats and children's bicycles. Never satisfied with the place I was in. Always wanting something more, to be somewhere new. But I fell in love with the world in you: the oceans in your eyes, the skylines in your chest, and for once, there is no place else I'd rather be than right here in your arms."
-Kahla Mercadante

A momentary observation:
               Hot, Hot, Hot

Whenever I have naught to say
I write about the weather.
It’s a good old English way
To say whatever’s
Easiest to pass the time,
The personal not being prime.

Yet here I sit, sunny comfy
Admiring the blue of sky,
The marvel of a lake whose look
Can take the breath away:
White, yellow water lily scattered *****-nilly
By some law of nature I will never fathom.
Row- and motorboats parked here and there
Far and near, on shores and little docks ad hoc.

Cirrus clouds are forming
Storming many hundred meters high.
And yet the sky, still blue
Looks still, yes, tranquil.  But I’ve moved from chair
To capture all in nature so enrapturing these eyes:
The butterflies, the dragonflies, the bees and flies,
Gnats, ants and ticks.
But I digress, for there are ducks to watch, nothing to fix -
(except, perhaps those nasty ticks).
This life as perfect as God made it,
Sun and cloud and shade quite perfect
Though the day is hot as hell.
I welcome every bit of it.

Hot, Hot, Hot 6.9.2018 Circling Round Nature II; Our Times, Our Culture II;  Swedish Book;; Arlene Nover Corwin

You can turn the sound of a busy highway into -
the oceans final destination
A saw into a rare tropical bird calling from the thick -
Indonesian canopy
Air brakes releasing become a noble Brahma-
warrior guarding his minions
Revved engines are motorboats sailing the African -
river wilderness
An afternoon cup of coffee with Walt Whitman
A lively front porch chat with Martin Luther King
Tucked into bed by  " The Angels " ...