Last Saturday (I know, I meant to post this earlier, but my last week was cRaZy), Mr. W and I went to dim sum with my maternal grandmother and my parents. While eating, my grandmother mentioned a grove of 150 cherry trees donated by a Japanese benefactor to a fairly local city park. The cherry blossoms should be blooming, she said. Off we all went after brunch to see the cherry blossoms.

Turned out the blossoms weren’t in full bloom yet; the trees were rather twiggy, but the early blooms were beautiful and incredibly fragrant. Thankfully, this was like the one day in 2 weeks when it didn’t rain.
3 generations of women:

my immediate family:

On our walk thru the park, my dad saw a low leaning tree and tried to hop on with his butt to sit on it. He missed and landed back on his feet. My mom laughed at him and I told him it’s too high to do that. So he turned to me and challenged me to walk onto the tree trunk from the base without using my hands. Which I did.

After I triumphantly turned around, I saw that they’d deliberately left me behind.

Envious at all my tree-climbing fun, Mr. W found one of his own.


And that was our day with blossoms. The end.

(as always, rest mouse pointer on photos for captions)