The simple life

I wake up to roosters crowing, old hens clucking like they know something.
I just want to sleep in but there’s Mom rushing –
“Load up the van, find a sinh to wear, don’t forget the paa bieng, tie up your hair.” Continue reading The simple life


In the Kitchen with Noony: the glory and the sorrow

I’ve been told that I’m a good cook. I make things that are edible and nourishing and occasionally pleasing to the eye. My abilites are nowhere close to my chef brother though, and I don’t always win in the kitchen. Amongst the most memorable of my kitchen disasters is the time I thought a pastry mat was made of silicone and it melted in the oven. Zero biscuits survived the incident.  Continue reading In the Kitchen with Noony: the glory and the sorrow

The YouShare Project

A quick note before I head off to the Shire for Pii Mai celebrations:

The YouShare Project reached out to me a few weeks ago and have published an adaption of my two blog posts, Exodus and Stateless.  This is an awesome project that provides a hub for inspirational, encouraging, and true personal stories.  Give them a read and if you have an incredible story of your own to share, consider submitting it to them for publication.

Have a great weekend, and sabaidee pii mai!

My story on YouShare



One time in refugee camp…

One time in refugee camp… my father built a statue.

Mother was several months pregnant, but no one believed her. She hadn’t gained a pound and there was no obvious “bump.”  Father helped build a Buddha statue in the camp, which some people say is taboo for a man whose wife is expecting. Continue reading One time in refugee camp…

A time I didn’t speak English

Nakhon Panom, circa 1983.

On the way to my brother’s wedding rehearsal, we took a road I have not traveled in years.  It is a pretty well-known route into the downtown area, but I rarely leave the house when I visit my parents.  Everything looked familiar yet strange all at once.  Before my family purchased the 25 acres that came to be known as the Shire, our first home in America was a run-down trailer on the busy side of town.   Continue reading A time I didn’t speak English