Snowboarding Lessons

Xuân and I took snowboarding lessons today. We signed up for a whole-day group lesson, but Xuân was the only student in his group and I along with another girl in our group. The instructor took us on the green slope just after 45 minutes on the bunny slope. We fell like crazy.

I got my heel turns down, but still had trouble with my knee turns. Once I get my knee turns down, I can link them together. I need more time to practice before everything would click together. Snowboarding is much more challenging to learn than ski. I haven’t given up yet.

I am hoping I won’t be in so much pain tomorrow so I can ski together with little Vương. Poor kid wanted to ski with me today, but I had to take snowboard lessons and I was wiped out afterward. I’ll make it up to him tomorrow.

Skiing with Vương

On Tuesday, I spent almost the whole day on the slope with Vương. He enjoyed skiing together with me. I still had to hold on to him, but I figured out a way for him to be less dependent on me. I just hold the handle on the harness gently to give him more control of his skis. We were planning on signing him up for lessons, but he was not ready. For now, we just ski and spend time together.

Đạo took my snowboard and gave it a try. He did really well. He joined us on the green slope even though he just started it. It looked like skateboarding helped him with snowboarding. If I can’t learn to snowboard, he can take over my board and boots.

For the last hour before the lift closed, I took Đán and Xuân on the blue and black slopes. We ventured into the black, ungroomed terrains. There were moguls and rocks everywhere. We made our way down and out, but my ski bases were scratched up. I will need to patch them up when I get back home.

First Skiing Week of the Season at Okemo

We arrived in Vermont on Saturday night; therefore, we slept in a bit. We didn’t get to Okemo until 10 am on Sunday. Somehow I thought the World Cup final was scheduled for 2 pm instead of 10 am. I missed the whole game. Oh well, congratulations to Argentina nevertheless.

Okemo was not as crowded as I had expected on a Sunday. The World Cup might be the reason. Đạo, Đán, Xuân and I did two runs on the blue and black slopes. I skied with Vương on the green slopes. He wanted me to hold him instead of using the harness. Đán complained his pair of snowboard boots was too tight. He used mine instead.

On Monday, we didn’t get to the resort until 11 am. I took Vương for a run on the green slope so my wife could practice a bit on the bunny slope. Vương was hungry and wanted to eat. I took him in and made him an instant noodle cup. I did one more run with him before I headed to the blue and black slopes with my older boys.

Đán wouldn’t give up my snowboard boots; therefore, I won’t be able to learn snowboarding this week. I am just going to enjoy skiing for now. I’ll learn how to snowboard when we come back home.

We were having a great time even though we were exhausted by the evening.

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LV Snowboard

I was about to purchase an LV snowboard for $7,450, but I couldn’t find a pair of LV boots and bindings to complete the package. I had to cancel my order. Darn!

A Spade Is for Piercing the Ground and a Shovel Is for Heaving

Preparations begin now, in the middle of my life—
death was born with me, didn’t expect to change languages,
might not know when it is called. Sometimes English sits on the surface of the skin.

We are water, we are rivers of descent;
gravity is inevitable yet grievable.
Mourn as you like, death is another migration.

Bring the body home and gently lay it down on its back,
bind tightly the hands and feet of the corpse,
do this to keep it from running away like a lonely child-

carry the coat it wore (when it was a person) to the roof-
a flag of surrender, a signal flag to the spirit world, new arrival;
call out the name of the dead three times.

Perfume the bath water-the death of a thousand flowers-
comb the hair and catch what falls,
what was grown from the body must accompany the body.

Manicure the fingernails and toenails,
carefully reserve the nail trimmings,
the hair and nails are to be collected into five pouches for the coffin.

Obtain a spoon made from a willow tree, it is a lightweight hardwood,
not heavy in the mouth-
feed the corpse three spoonfuls of uncooked rice: one thousand, two thousand, three thousand bushels.

Slide metal coins into the mouth-the spirit journey can be costly, the way long-
cloak the body in the death dress of hemp or silk,

envelop the body with a quilted cloth, and bind the body with ropes seven times.

Transport the body on a decorated bier out of the house-for this you need the living-

observe it float heavily toward the gate. Not unlike a boat
the bier is decorated with fierce dragons and phoenixes; colorful dolls guard the dead.

On the way out of the household premises, lower the bier three times-
the dead’s final departure from home is marked with this ritual bowing.

At the grave, the shaman will exorcise evil spirits from the site. Pay the shaman.

Submerge the coffin in the open ground, it has already been emptied, given its duty,
yes, like another mouth, or a box for a smaller box-one by one,
the ground is a wound that heals, that embraces its lost materials.

Sun Yung Shin

Julie Otsuka: The Swimmers

Otsuka’s opening paragraph is so damn good, I have to quote in full. She writes about “The Underground Pool”:

The pool is located deep underground, in a large cavernous chamber many feet beneath the streets of our town. Some of us come here because we are injured, and need to heal. We suffer from bad backs, fallen arches, shattered dreams, broken hearts, anxiety, melancholia, anhedonia, the usual above-ground afflictions. Others of us are employed at the college nearby and prefer to take our lunch breaks down below, in the waters, far away from the harsh glares of our colleagues and screens. Some of us come here to escape, if only for an hour, our disappointing marriages on land. Many of us live in the neighborhood and simply love to swim. One of us—Alice, a retired lab technician now in the early stages of dementia—comes here because she always has. And even though she may not remember the combination to her locker or where she put her towel, the moment she slips into the water she knows what to do. Her stroke is long and fluid, her kick is strong, her mind clear. “Up there,” she says, “I’m just another little old lady. But down here, at the pool, I’m myself.”

After the pool shuts down, Otsuka shifts her focus on Alice who suffers from her deteriorating dementia. Even though the change is quite disrupting, the stories comes out poignant and heartbreaking. Otsuka’s writing is just masterful—as you can already tell from her opening paragraph. It’s a slim, sensational read.

Sellin’ White Privilege

Just so you remember who you dealin’ with
The purest snow, we sellin’ white privilege
Designer drugs will turn niggas limitless
Designer clothes, these hoes losing innocence
The book of blow, just know I’m the Genesis.

Open the box, it’s like ten Christmases
My folks in the box is serving life sentences
I live in a world that never leaves witnesses
Just so you remember who you dealin’ with.

Pusha T (excerpts from “Just So You Remember”)

I am Beat

After taking my oldest son to school yesterday, I headed straight to Bryce Resort. I was the first person there and only a few more showed up afterward. I strapped on my snowboard and hit the absolute beginner magic carpet. I kept falling off at the end of the bell. I switched to my goofy stance and it seemed to be better. I learned to skate with one foot first.

My lesson plan was to learn the heel and toe brakes, but it didn’t turn out that way. The board didn’t go straight down for me to learn to brake. So I had to go wherever the board took me. I fell quite a bit the first two hours. I switched to skiing. I had new skis and boots. The boots killed my feet. I need to get them molded.

I went back to snowboarding in the afternoon. I started to get the link turns using Malcom Moore’s lever techniques. I left the resort around 2:30 pm because I was completely beat. Even though I fell on my butt a lot, my butt was not in pain thanks to Bodyprox protective padded shorts. The shoulders and my knees were so painful afterward. I couldn’t do much else for the rest of the night.

Only

O Love this happened or it did not.
In a room with green walls

my son was born. The cord was torn
too soon, so they cut off

his head to save his heart. He lived
for a long time.

For a long time there was no breath or cry.
When finally he spoke,

he spoke the wide, whorled leaves of corn.
He spoke the crickets

in clusters beneath the sheaves, he sang
the soil in. He sang the wind

in the dune and hush of ebb tide. Some say
he died. Some say he died.

Rebecca Foust

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