Yes, we are living in a sort of paradise right now, equally positioned between Àn Bang, a beautiful beach boasting gorgeous sunrises AND sunsets, and the UNESCO world heritage ancient town of Hội An. Both places stunning on their own.

Paradise always has a few minor hidden detractors, right?

Like NEVER put shoes on without a quick shake-out. Thankfully we’re already trained to do this from living in the Pacific NW. Spiders seem to love hiding in shoes. Here, little frogs accidentally hop in as soon as the sun sets.

Plus that time I found a nest of baby mice in my work boots…

Shoe checking is just common sense, yes?

Lately, though, it’s ants. Little teeny-weeny tiny ants.

Not a new thing, we’ve had them everywhere we have ever lived. There is an enormous number of ant species inhabiting South East Asia.

I thought we had forged an understanding with our local ants. We won’t leave food or garbage temptations inside the house and we’ll put everything in tight-lidded glass jars or in the fridge. In return, we’ll gently sweep you outside to a healthier environment if we see you inside.

But they are tricksters.

This morning we were engrossed in our morning ritual of pouring the hot water over the coffee filter, happily watching the grounds bloom. Wait. Little dots come scrambling up the inside of the paper. What? How did you guys get there? Then I realized I didn’t put the paper cones into anything different than their cardboard box. Paper isn’t food, dudes.

And the reason I have a water bottle at my bedside table WITH A LID is because, well….one night I picked up my glass of water for a mid-night drink and whoa, did it taste funny…AND it had a texture. I should not have turned on a light but I did. Pool party! I’m sure my stomach acids did their thing for the population that went that direction before I stopped my swallowing.

Note to the curious. They tasted a bit like almond extract. I LOVE that flavor almost more than anything, but I’m fine not repeating this event.

Then yesterday I was sliding open the curtains and plop. Something smallish but weighty thudded onto my forearm. Any guesses? Mr. Gecko. Geckos don’t bite, they eat mosquitos and bugs and the only existing downside to our mutual existence here in this house is that their poop falls onto everything as they nocturnally navigate the ceiling beams. (You should see the top of my laptop.) I was overtaken by an adrenaline rush so I yelled a little something and flung my arm and sent Mr. Gecko on a jet cruise, sailing across the room. Luckily, he had a soft-blanket landing.

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Later last night I was quietly sitting, reading on my ipad in the semi-darkness. Low lights attract less night-fliers, right? Something lightly landed on my arm in the exact spot where the gecko had alit. No adrenaline this time, so I had time to take a stab at identification. Too dark to see, then…blink blink…blink blink. It was a firefly! Magical little beetles. Then fleetingly wondered if they bit and decided I didn’t want to find out, so walked outside and [delicately this time] arm-flung once again.

Last week I walked up to the front of my white house, and was drawn to something new that stood out against the white.

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Aliens guarding their mother ship. What are they? They stayed in place 3 days, not moving at all unless prodded. One night they suddenly all departed, leaving their pod nursery. Or eggs. Which are still there, unaltered.

As I’m writing this and looking out the door, I watch this beauty scurry up a pole and proceed to sun itself on the trellis. Including the tail it is 18 inches long. The toes on the hind feet are each 1-inch long.

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Just a sample of the interesting array of critters that randomly scurry or fly by. I’ve left out many others. Oops. Went to fry some bánh chưng for a snack and a small jumping spider accidentally committed suicide in the pan oil.

Glad I spotted it, although it would’ve just been protein, right? Their venom only hurts their prey, not harmful to humans. Even if ingested?

Cool.

Unless you’re about to visit us, then DISREGARD EVERTYHING I JUST SAID.

My brain is full of thoughts as we pack up and close out this chapter of our Lopez Island summer life. I DO want to write it all down because I DO want to remember everything.

But where should I start?

Should I fill in some blanks from the winter in Hanoi before we even came home to Lopez?

Like the joy of seeing good friends who made the journey across the oceans to hang with us without knowing exactly what they’d find? The friends, family and acquaintances that came our direction and brightened our days?

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Or the enthusiastic learners in various rural areas that I was lucky enough to meet throughout the year? These high school students live in Thanh Miện district, 1.5 hours SE of Hanoi.

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Along with teaching, other fun stuff happened. I could write about Doug’s bass addition to the short-lived but raucous psychedelic surf-punk band called Super Yoko Space Cult.

Or fast forward, should I talk about the work we’ve done this summer on our studio? How Doug has ‘all the clever’ when adapting ways to lift and hold heavy plywood over our heads, fitting it perfectly in a not-so perfectly square building? How building a studio together is actually an eNORmous lesson in patience, for both of us? Let’s re-measure, just in case. Good idea, regardless of who suggests it.

And there ARE actually tools for smaller hands and yes they’re hard to locate.

Or how about one week of the summer that was spent tucked away at singing camp in the Oregon Cascade Mountains with a group of 40 others who sang, talked, laughed, cried and tried to make sense of this confusing world with love and music? A monumental week indeed.

Some of the brightest highlights I could include were the emotional meetings I had with my birth family relatives for the first time. I have brothers from a shared father! Cousins my age! How can I describe the overwhelming feeling of being accepted into a family 60 years after being born when they didn’t even know I existed? I continue to explore and enjoy the open arms that have been extended my way, and open mine in return. Thanks, Smith Family. And nope, I didn’t get the chin cleft but I did grow up with that sweet gap between my front teeth. Jet-spraying water out that gap was one of my childhood super powers.

Or I could write about how hard it is right now, saying our goodbyes to our family. Like our new grand baby, born last winter and is now 8 months, who will be walking and probably even skateboarding next time we see him? Shouldn’t we just camp out in their back yard and watch him grow every day? And admire how loving and parental his parents have become, now that they are the parents? He’s adorable, the smartest kid ever, and has a smile that will melt an iceberg, in case you were wondering.

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Not to mention ALL the kids and grandkids that we’re leaving for awhile. Sure, they’re grown up and don’t need us at all anymore but what about the fact that they’re so interesting and engaging that we just want to hang around them because we like them as the people they’ve become? How to write about that?

Or the Oakland family visit…if there was a way to pack everyone up and drag them with us, we would.

Or how we like to sit and watch the roving band of wild turkeys pass our front door, knowing they’re unaware of the crisis this planet’s population is facing?

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And listen to the bird songs, and watch the brown creepers hop only upward on the trees while the nuthatches hop only downward, and the towhees hop anywhere on the ground. How can we explain the beauty of the sunsets and clouds on our bay, where the colors are indescribable? Where the seabirds fly and squawk and the sea otters dip and dive? And the Whidbey Island Naval Air Station growler jets regularly scream overhead, their core-shaking roars a jarring reminder that they are training for war? With no power to do anything about it? It’s a lot to feel.

I think I won’t write about any of that. I’ll leave it like this, tuck in a few photos once I remember how to use the new Gutenberg wordpress editor. Then call it good.

UPDATE: We are happily back in Vietnam, where we feel like we belong, for now. 

We still love Hanoi but want a little less big city and a little more fresh air. The average low/high temperatures in Hoi An City are 73° and 86° F.

We’ll find a place to unpack our bags and live our lives for another year. We will make music. We will fit in dice games, stories, visits, and trips (still have to restamp our visas every 3 months), popped corn, fried lotus root and happy hour concoctions. And daily beach swims, weather permitting. Because now with the monsoon season, the typhoons, hurricanes and tropical storms may happen. We are learning the difference.

We signed a rental lease on a sweet house in Cam Ha, outside Hoi An City. We are unpacking, settling in and forging onward.

Ready for visitors!