In this semi-fictional blog, I minimize talk of my Mother-in-Law. It is too rich a subject. A minefield. Not too rich for a fully fictional blog. But this blog is semi-fictional. And that means that it is semi-non-fictional.

I'm at the Home-plus early in the morning. It's mostly empty, but there are two maintenance men going up the moving sidewalk. On of them sees a box over the railing of the sidewalk,

I'm at the Chim-san Home Plus with Lucy. We come out with a back-pack full of cereal. As I am fighting with the lock on my bike, two girls come up ans start talking to us.

Recently, Eunjoo reads Lucy to sleep every night. Four or five books, over and over, until, if all goes well, Lucy gets sleepy and nods off. If all doesn't go well, Eunjoo gets sleepy, and nods

We're in a park with Lucy. I tell my wife I'm going to the powder room. It isn't so affected to say this in Korean. In Canada, when you have to go

I'm sitting in my office with the windows shut, and my finger in the open jaw of a stapler. It is hot -- humid hot -- and I have the air conditioner off. The stapler is

We are in Seoul for the weekend. Sitting in a Starbucks in Mok-dong, across the road from the SBS headquarters, I see a dumpy dude in jeans and a sleeveless t-shirt standing in front of the gated entrance

I ride my bike to Costco, sporting a big empty red backpack. I get off, stick my ear buds in my ears, my hands in my pockets, and head down to floor B2. It's a weekend,