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two events makes daddy something something

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

This morning we visited the house of some new friends to plan a fundraising affair in support of a school in quake-ravaged NE Japan.

Apparently the school is now the home, until further notice, of refugees whose homes have been smashed and who have lost everything. We made signs, cooked food, and, in my case, sat half a dozen small children. It was great to meet the new friends, all of whom Mari met through the programs for which she'd signed up Kenny. Although he's refused to participate in the various programs (swimming, singing, gym time, and art class) Mari and Kenny have met other Japanese mums in the neighbourhood (including one who lives about three short blocks from us).

We'd accomplished everything we'd wanted to by about 14:20, and set off for our second event of the day, which was the fifth birthday of an old friend. We turned up at their place at around 16:00 after having found a card and a bag to wrap the boy's gift, and were there all evening. There was a tonne of food, both Philippine, as the boy's mother is, and Serbian, as is the boy's father. And of course there was cake (three cakes, to be precise) and a piñata. I held aloft the latter as various kids tried swinging at it. They were ultimately successful, of course, and I ultimately wound up with a bloody knuckle.

There were a number of fellows present who were police officers from the city's challenging 51 division, and I shared several opinions with them, fueled on Jägermeister, sangria, and a home-made Serbian drink that tasted like woody grappa.

A fine day. But all three of us were ready for bed by the time we got home at around ten.