Morning, food, rain, lost bird ... and more

Note: Please read timeline backward from the top. Mac post.

10:15 a.m.

Hanh’s mom found a blue bird during her morning walk. Blue bird couldn’t fly. She wanted to protect it from cars and animals so she took it home. She let it stood in backyard on concrete slab near a door mat outside the kitchen door. The bird showed no emotion when I pick it up. I said to Hanh’s mom: “Did you know about bird flu disease?” I was in the hurry to leave for work so I put blue bird on top of yellowish plant on big pot for some quick photos.

9:15 a.m.

Soon after we turned to Elk Grove Boulevard, Hanh made me make a quick right turn to Capital Nursery. She said she need to ask someone why our plant on big pot in back yard turned yellowish. I told her because it has too much water in the pot.

I went inside with Hanh. This place is huge and heavenly beautiful. The plants and flowers still wet from light rain. Some water drops still falling down from giant -- I meant humongous oak trees. I asked the staff inside glass windows for permission to take photos.

I immediately got carried away with shoot shoot shoot, what else, flowers here and there ... and some other odd stuffs. Then I saw an old woman watering flowers. Asked her if she would let me take her photo, she politely agreed. But when I told her I may put the pictures on a Web site, her face turned sour and her mind changed, “I don’t trust the Internet. Too many bad things in there. And I don’t even have a cell phone.”

Without hesitation, I told her, “You are not missing much.” I watched her tending the little flower pots for a moment and slowly awkwardly moved away. With my phone pointing closely at the flower beds and my eyes staring blankly at the phone’s glossy screen, I shot several more photos while doing my best not to look silly.

Hanh came by a moment later and said, “Guest what the man say about our plant? He said because it has too much water.” I immediately responded, “Didn’t I just tell you that? I told you your mom has been watering that thing to death.” Hanh smiled and quickly wandered to the back lot.

PHOTOSLIDE | GOOGLE MAP | be sure to click on satellite view in map, then zoom all the way in to view each location of photos in Capital Nursery property.

9:05 a.m.

Rain drops suddenly felt on the windshield as we were heading southbound on Hwy 99. Hanh asked, “Why is it raining in such bright sun light?” I confidently told her, “See, I told you it might rain or thunderstorm today and later on this week.” She responded, “No you didn’t.” I said “Yes I did earlier when we were on the other side of the freeway. We were talking about the change of weather and I even told you I worked on the weather page last night. How come you don't remember?” She goes, “I heard you. You said something about this week's storm, we are already in June and fireworks almost here again, meaning July ...” I told her, “It’s annoying when you don’t hear my words. You know, words had meaning.” Hanh gave me a funny smile when she said, “but I didn’t hear you say rain.”

HUONG LAN SANDWICHES: Banh cuon nem cha lua (above) and hu tieu nam vang (below)

8:20 a.m.

We had breakfasts at Huong Lan Sandwiches. The place was already busy with half dozen customers. A man in his sixties cheerfully greeted us at our table near the big window. Hanh already picked Banh cuon nem cha lua. I was pointing to the picture of Hu tieu Nam Vang when the waiter cuts in in Vietnamese, “Okay, wife eats banh cuon nem cha lua, husband eats Hu Tieu Nam Vang.” When he finished with our order, I jokingly said to him, also in Vietnamese, “Hey, we are only dating. I don’t mind being called husband. But I am not sure how she feels.” The man quickly turned around and looked worried so I told him I was just kidding. Hanh told me I was mean. Then she puts on a big smile while looking out the window, “You know, I feel like I am cheating.” I was surprised to hear what she just said, “What do you mean?” Hanh went on, “I’m not supposed to be up now. I supposed to be in bed sleeping still.” I told her, “So now you know what you’ve missed each morning.” Her eyes still admiring the view of shoppers and cars crisscrossing in shadows of the palm trees and morning sun rays. I decided not to elaborate on what I was about to say.

8:05 a.m.

Hanh and I arrived home almost at the same time in two vehicles after dropping our kids at two schools. Normally, I would take the kids to both schools and let Hanh sleep late until she go to work later. Before I even get out of the car, Hanh declared, “I am hungry, let’s go for breakfast.” I told her, “I already had my coffee. I am good till noon.” She said, “I am hungry for Vietnamese food.” I said, “At 8 a.m.? No one opens at this time. Unless you want IHOP or McDonalds.” Hanh replied, “Well, I know Tay Ho opens. Pho Bac Hoa Viet opens. And Huong Lan usually opens early for sure.” I agreed, “Let’s go to Huong Lan.”

6:45 a.m.

One of our boys has a 7:30 a.m. dentist appointment, so I had to wake Hanh up to help the others with the usual rituals: going around the beds to wake them up (literally pull them away from pillows and mattresses because they don’t seem to mind the alarm clock sounds); knocking on bathroom doors to remind them to brush their teeth and take quick shower if they smell bad; sliding closet doors and dresser drawers to make sure everyone is dressed properly -- by this I meant their clothes and especially their socks are matched; then moving to the kitchen drawers and cabinet doors to figuring out who wants to eat what and who drinks what; making sure everyone is ready by 7:55 a.m.; then pushing one by one out the door near 8:00 a.m. ... into the van; continuing yelling out loud and repeatedly: “Do you all have shoes on? Do you all have your backpacks? Did you put your homework in the backpack? Is your phone in your pocket? Did you charge it last night? Did you turn it to silence? Did you bring your jacket?”

Having said the above and more, I now understand why Hanh was so hungry this morning. So let's scroll back up to the future to our breakfast at Huong Lan Sandwiches earlier today. I could still see Hanh's big smile and her glowing hair and skin along her right cheek from the morning sun rays against the bright glass window. I am glad that I stopped short of telling Hanh all the things she has been missing each morning. It was a wise thing I did. And I think she too, knows.