The place we ate at had this guy making the noodles fresh for the chao mian. He tosses them up, twists them, tosses them again. He asked us if he could go to America in exchange for me taking his picture.
I am on my way to Shanghai the day after tomorrow to try to catch an earlier flight than the one I have booked so I can be with my sister before her baby is born because the little guy seems to be ready to come anytime now. I'm excited, but I need your thoughts as I need open doors with the people of American Airlines to let me get on an earlier flight!
I'll leave with a quote doesn't exactly fit tonight, but I wanted to put it here anyhow. We can't see much of the night sky from here in the city where there are lights and buildings, but the night sky is there all the same, above the night market, above us as we sleep tonight.
At midnight it feels there is more light in the sky than darkness, as though God took a fistful of stardust and threw it upward where it shimmers at the apex of its ascent, as though what we know as creation exists only for this brief second before it all comes crashing down again. Brilliant blue clusters spread thick and dense and they sparkle and fade, sparkle and fade. It is silent music, the night sky. God does well to live atop them. And I wonder, as I lie in the meadow with a piece of grass between my teeth, if angels look down updon the sky to which we look up?
The night sky is his greatest work.
- Through Painted Deserts, Donald Miller