It’s altogether too pleasant, in my beloved East Rift Valley, to remain angry and upset for too long. There is nothing like the patch of wildflowers at Ji An Station, or a bush of burgundy hibiscus blossoms at an unexpected train stop, or a proud-as-Lucifer ringnecked pheasant strutting about, or pagan dan pin for breakfast in Fong Lin, or 90 km/h on 11A as dawn breaks, to knock the spots off any bout of ill temper. Da bei Taiwan pi jo doesn’t do any harm either—and it’s not nearly as strong or fattening as Canadian beer. Besides, Lao-puo rang this morning again, and she is in good spirits. Dr. Lee has her on full bed rest, and traction, for at least three days, in the hope that her disc will work its way back into alignment
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