Another visit from Ma Song. For those who don’t know, Ma Song will probably one day wear the dubious title of mother-in-law. She certainly is getting in shape for the part. She stayed over the last two nights, and I tell you, the lady has an innate sense for what will drive me up the wall and she uses this gift to said end. Just to give you a bit of the picture – the woman is in her mid-fifties and goes about in tiger/leopard/cheetah/just-about-any-big-cat patterned clothing. She has a fine mastery of about five English verbs and is convinced that the imperative in our language is formed by repeating any word twice, “Matt, Eat! Eat!” “Matt, Take! Take!” “Matt, Go! Go!” – you get the idea. On top of the annoying habit of ordering me about (and I am powerless to ignore or argue as she won’t understand) that her daughter is also growing proficient at, she is able to detect what I wouldn’t want done, and do it. Case and point, I have been letting some vines grow along the walls of the house as they look good and are easily trimmed. My girlfriend claims they are weeds, but what is a weed really, I ask you. Anyway, Ma Song was up at the crack of dawn the other morning, a village habit, and sure enough when I awoke all of my vines had been weeded. Another example, I have several button down shirts that I only dry clean. They were somewhat expensive and dry cleaning seems to ensure their long usage. I put one of these in the hamper and sure enough the next morning it had been hand scrubbed (read ruined) by Ma Song. I know the lady is trying to be helpful, but she had already washed all the clothes in the house, I figured I was safe. Another classic Ma Song, and I’ll leave it on this as it’s the best, she takes some paper towels to dust of the car – nice gesture – then proceeds to throw them on the ground in our front yard. Thanks to her the car is clean, but the lawn is strewn with litter. Oh yeah, she is still convinced the re-elected prime minister is going to provide a cow per household. No need to start throwing paper towels at the pasture yet, Ma; I think you have time.