My Beautiful Day.

After weeks of playing this shadowy game ... where the stakes are high, and we wait to see who will flinch or balk first, it seems we have finally gained the upper hand. Checkmate. The landlord has panicked. She heard of our apartment search, and that we'd found something worth moving into. She's conceded to replace toilets, and kitchen counter tops, and the swap our mini fridge for a refrigerator with double doors. The henchmen can no longer show up unannounced (there is verbiage in the new contract). And she'll lower the rent.

We can move on with our life as normal (however normal that may be in our present environment). We can book air tickets for our time at home this summer because we won't have to worry about scheduling a move. I can plant my long awaited window herb garden-- rosemary, basil and rows of rocket (arugula). We've yet to all sign on the dotted line, but things are definitely swinging in our favor.

And so I celebrated our retention with something I'd been longing to do since the weather turned... spruce up the garden. Mr Zhang, our driver, took me to the local whole sale flower shop where I perused their wares, practiced my bargaining, and utilized my guan xi (special relationship-- as "old friend" since I was a returning customer.) I went with the equivalent of $17 USD in my change purse and came home with more than sixty bedding plants, including the two luscious hydrangea's and their new snazzy planters. Mr Zhang laid last week's newspaper in the rear of the van to tote my loot home, and smiled as he saw me in action. He didn't try to interfere on my behalf and seemed to be impressed with my bargaining acumen. He even complemented me on my price for the two pots ($3 all in) by telling me I'm becoming almost Chinese!

Once home I began laying the plants out. Trading the hydrangeas moss covered clay pots for the new black ones. Mixing fertilizer and rich black soil among the roots of each annual.

I bought 40 Marigolds. I am not particularly fond of marigolds. They are sturdy, and somewhat arrogant plants, that don't smell nice (which is why I bought them. The feral cats are plentiful in our area of the complex, and after their raging cat orgies in late February, their population has now exploded.) But beyond their usefulness I found, after experimenting with them last year, that marigolds are consistent. And with the soil we have in the yard here, I'll take whatever I can get.

It's feeling more and more right to stay. We saw some very nice, even large homes-- some up to 300 sq meters (around 3230 sq ft), but not one with a garden/yard as big as ours. And only one with a garage, but they were curiously converting it into a bedroom. We saw one mammoth, multi-story behemoth with rabid looking guard dogs in the garden, pulling at the end of their heavy chains. The place had been carved up into lots of dark tiny rooms, and each level had roughly the same layout. I was sure that at some point during that tour we would round a corner and have the Cheshire Cat tell us we were, "Almost Alice."

We are all a little relieved to be staying put. The girls didn't want to move. Even when lured with a third floor floor plan, and promise of big playroom. This place where we've lived for four years, simply feels like home to them.

As I worked the plants into the ground, and transplanted roses that were placed in too shady a spot, I thought how each year the garden seems to yield a little more easily. Each year its a little less work, and increasingly mature.

I hoped it was an analogy to my time in China. But, I had to catch myself and consider the ebb and flow of the garden life. I had to remember that things looked beautiful now because the parched land had just drunk deeply from a slow and gentle two-day spring rain. The new grass seed had taken in some spots because the spring sun is not as unrelenting as the summer rays. There are highs and lows to this life. There are months when I find my language skills yue lai yue hao (getting better and better), only to turn around one day and realize I've plateaued again. (I've dropped lessons from May onwards --since April really-- because I was wasting my time and my teacher's. I'm focusing on conversations with anyone who will talk to me now, because sometimes immersion is better for me than two hour language sessions.) Life is a sweet journey along a sine curve. A straight line, after all, would be quite boring!

Bei Bei came home at noon and we went to the bird and flower market. At the market I got fresh cut flowers for each of the girls bedrooms: beautiful orchid blossoms, painfully beautiful, for my oldest; deep red Gerbera daisies with long tubular stems for my middle who loves all things red. Bei Bei picked a bundle of simple carnation pink carnations, and I endulged my self with two dozen creamy white roses. (Total price: 93 rmb, about $13 US + $1 for the fish Bei Bei bargained for herself-- no shop keeper can deny the cute blonde haired, blue eyed five-year-old who converses in Chinese! "Too expensive!" she retorts, and they cave with a grin.)

Bei Bei selected five gold fish and six water plants for our large ceramic fish bowl. We came home and set up the fish, she found a snail, we watered plants and pulled weeds. The big girls came home at 4:00. They played in the garden. E. helped dead head our earlier plantings and hang my new solar powered lanterns.

Mr. Johnson returned after 5:00 and started the grill. The girls took a bath and set the picnic table in their PJs. We enjoyed grilled chicken with peaches, a cool night among new plants and sweet children.

We saw...

the world in green and blue

saw China right in front of you

It was a beautiful day

Don't let it get away

Beautiful day