27-28 December: reading weather

Monday, 27 December 2021

At home

Three views from windows and porch; I did not set one foot outside, although I would have if the snow had been picturesquely arranged on branches and twigs.

Skooter had the choice of two boxes in his favorite hangout, Alicia’s patio. He kept a close look on Onyx from next door to the east, who seemed embarrassed to be caught prowling.

I read the first half of a long memoir by Ron Chew, a journalist and historian two years older than me whose reminiscences about growing up in Seattle brought back memories of my childhood. It was so easy to visualize. I remember some things about his life, like his anti discrimination suit against the University of Washington and was eager to read more the next day.

Tuesday, 28 December 2021

More window views:

I will be so sad if a tall building takes away my winter view of the band of light on the horizon, something I often see and treasure during staycation.

The clothespin holds netting onto the Catio roof.

From the north window, it looks like my pittosporums and grevillea are surviving the mid 20s nights.

We had a raccoon on the porch after midnight. Faerie growled, and I heard the clanking of pots that are stored there. It (or they) lumbered down the steps when I turned on the light. I closed the exterior sliding door, and saw the footprints the next morning.

I continued to read and finished the 600+ page memoir by the renowned community activist and former director of Seattle’s Wing Luke Museum. His resistance to oppression, his inclusive work and support of intersectional groups and a life dedicated to journalism and education are inspirational.

Some takeaways (there were many) follow.

Do your best to learn stories of your family while you still can.

How Seattle changed:

In years past, on Facebook and in this blog, I have shared a story which I now know has an inaccuracy.

I was told by the previous owners of my old house to the west of the boatyard, that they found “Chinese bowls and opium bottles” when they dug out the pond there. They said was originally the dumping spot for a Chinese dormitory that had been there for Chinese men who worked in fish processing. I was told that racist locals here of the time would say “A fishing Chinese man [but they used a racial slur instead] is a dead Chinese man,” because the good money was in fishing. The men could not bring their families because of the Chinese Exclusion Act, which also affected Ronald Chew’s family.

At my former house, an old beam sticking into the pond was said to have been part of the dormitory. The bowls and bottles were donated to the Columbia Pacific Heritage Museum, where they must be in storage. But now I have learned they probably were not opium bottles at all, and that is the inaccuracy in my story. See:

I enjoyed the many stories about the Wing Luke Museum in the second half of the book. The idea of the tags on clothing in this exhibit made me verklempt:

Of course, I also loved the chapter about Ronald Chew discovering the joys of gardening after he retired from the museum. He wrote about plants and about building a shed retreat, which was written about in the Seattle Times.

I found the article here, but neither Allan nor I can see the photos on iPhone, iPad, or computer. Darn it.

My Unforgotten Seattle would fascinate anyone I know who grew up in Seattle. I am glad I found it.