Author Archives: Eugie Foster

Packed the folks up and sent them to the airport via the MARTA. They’re on their whirlwind way to Syracuse and then to San Diego, and then back to China where they’ll stay for a week, before flying to Finland so my step-dad can teach an intensive 3-day class before they get to sightsee that area for a couple weeks. Goodness, but they’re definitely keeping busy!

Learned a few more fascinating things about my step-dad. He was in China during the Cultural Revolution (!), and with his education, was shunned as an enemy of the state. He was accused of being an intellectual and a capitalist sympathizer. His mother, another scientist, was accused of being a capitalist and exiled to the countryside. Lots of fascinating and jaw-dropping stories from that time. Now I need to read up on that time period. I wasn’t very interested in it before–finding ancient Chinese history and mythology much more to my taste–but some of the happenings from that time are stranger than fantasy.

My folks and fosteronfilm and I had dinner at Fung’s Vegetarian Chinese Restaurant in Roswell [920 Woodstock Road Suite 200, Roswell, GA 30075, (770) 643-1161]. It’s a Buddhist vegan place where they sculpt and create meat simulations out of tofu and wheat gluten. It was delicious! I had their Seafood Delight. The only meat dishes I still have occasional pangs of longing for is seafood. The fish tasted exactly like I remember fish being like. The shrimp was a little less accurate, but it was still very yummy. My mom had a faux chicken dish, and fosteronfilm had their faux roast duck. I had a taste of both their dishes, and the chef got the texture and taste of both chicken and duck down really well. I also picked up some free Buddhism literature as we were leaving–not just skinny pamphlets but full books–to add to my research pile. For local folks, I highly recommend Fung’s if you’re in the area. Their food is exquisite, and the environment is quiet and soothing. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to have a website.

I did end up getting a bit melancholy by the conclusion of the evening. I kept thinking about how I really wish I’d grown up with my step-dad as my father figure, rather than my largely absent biological dad and all the conflict and ugliness of his and my mom’s relationship. My step-dad is such a good influence on my mom. He’s an incredibly intelligent man with a kindly disposition and an easy sense of humor. And he and I have so much in common. He has a real interest and passion for the old Chinese folktales and myths, and he’s really supportive of my interest in them. Despite working in a library and being a huge proponent of literacy and education, my mom never shared my interest in fantasy and science fiction. What would my childhood have been like with him as a mitigating influence on the friction between my mother and myself, I wonder?

New information gleaned from folks during visit thus far:
My mother has four stepsisters whom I had never heard of before. Now, for some reason, when I was a child, my mother withheld basically all family history from me on the grounds that I was “too young to understand.” This has left me with a fragmented understanding of my family tree as she also confusingly insisted that I call all of her female friends when I was growing up “auntie.” My dad skipped out on us when I was three, and family information from his side was, consequently, a bit sketchy as well. Hence, when my doctors ask me about my medical family history, I stare blankly and go “ummm.” I actually have a better idea of my step-dad’s family tree. Anyway, two of these newfound step-aunts have passed on, both apparently to breast cancer. It leaves me feeling quite strange, knowing that I had kin I could’ve met who have died before I even knew their name. You’d think, since they were strangers to me, that it would leave me unaffected, but I feel quite sad that I never got a chance to even talk to them. . . . And I still don’t know their names.

My mother also keeps in touch with my aunt’s husband, a man who I didn’t know existed. Obviously my aunt was married, she has two kids–my cousins–and they all lived with us for a while (which, I suspect, is the only reason I know about them) but her husband was never mentioned. I thought he was either dead or some sort of nefarious super sekrit military operative of which One Did Not Speak.

My mom’s taken up belly dancing. She introduced me to dance, had me taking ballet lessons when I was three, and she’s always done Tai Chi, so yeah, a lot of kinesthetic appreciation when I was growing up. But now she’s doing belly dancing. I am inordinately amused. I bet she doesn’t wear midriff-bearing outfits to class, though.

Things that made me go huh:

In the course of their visit, my mom grabbed one of Hobkin’s hind legs (while he was napping, so she didn’t knock him over or yank him off his paws or anything), and commented that it had plenty of muscle, that this would be the tasty part to eat. She also said that his fur would make a nice coat, and upon seeing his teeth, wondered whether his fangs could be filed down so they weren’t so sharp, and as a corollary, whether we had a muzzle for him. Err. She likes animals, really she does. More amazingly, Hobkin continues to like her, even though she wants to muzzle him or file down his teeth, or turn him into a casserole or a coat.

My folks have a very different philosophy on supervisory philosophy. My step-dad’s is much like fosteronfilm‘s and mine, namely: In the end, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. My mom thinks you should whip your subordinates into shape so they can take over from you when you leave. It sounds like she yelled out, threatened to fire, and intimidated her staff when she was working–which, uh, sounds a lot like her parenting style. My folks get into arguments about my step-dad’s work. He’s kept on as a consultant at the university where he was a professor, so they call him in for the really hard stuff they can’t solve themselves. My mom wants him to delegate the most recent project, which is apparently a pretty complex and tricky one, to his students, but he doesn’t think they can handle it so wants to do the key parts of the research himself.

They really want me to visit China. And I’m wanting to more and more, thanks to my step-dad’s influence. The gardens, and palace, and great wall, and the history of the place just makes me go all “oooo.”

My mom and step-dad are here. (fosteronfilm and I engaged in a manic fit of scrubbing and cleaning and vacuuming yesterday, so the house is presentable.) They didn’t sleep well last night, waking up at the ungodly hour of 4AM, so we had an early night today. We ordered some Chinese delivery (don’t ask me why my folks insist on eating Chinese food when they travel to the states) and hung out at the house.

They continue to be both enchanted by and somewhat trepidatious about Hobkin. They stood around watching him eat dinner, which undoubtedly discomfited him a bit. And my mom thumped him on the head when he was napping (she thinks his ears are cute) and pulled on his legs (ditto cute paws), and he put up with it with remarkable forbearance. I think the women in my family have some sort of animal zen. It’s the only thing that explains it. If anyone else had taken such liberties with him, there would’ve been blood.

And my folks brought prezzies! They got me a three-volume set of Journey to the West, the story of the Monkey King and assorted folktales associated thereof.

My step-dad engaged in some traditional storytelling as I was oohing and aahing over the books they’d lugged for me all the way from China, telling how the mythological Journey to the West is based upon some real events, people, and places. We discussed the Lady of the Moon, Chang’er, and the origins of the Monkey King. He’s into Chinese mythology. Is that not totally cool or what?

And mooncakes!

I haven’t had mooncake since I was a little girl. I wrote several Chinese folktales concerning the Spring Festival and the Lady in the Moon, and ever since I’ve been craving them something fierce. fosteronfilm had never had mooncake before, so we split one. (For anyone who hasn’t experienced them, it’s not sensible nor wise to eat a mooncake all by yourself. They’re quite rich.) These ones have a sweet green filling, not as sweet as red bean paste. I think it’s lotus seed paste. Yumf! Now, I am full of mooncake. Happiness.

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