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In love with crochet ୨🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

    I was 11, I made a decision of learning how to crochet. This weird grandma approached me in my English class and asked what was my hobby. Since I hadn't had one by that time, she said she liked to crochet and wanted to teach me. So I agreed. On Tuesday after the class, I met her in the waiting room. She beamed and told me to sit beside her.     Then she taught me how to hold the hook correctly, then introduced the basic: magic ring and chain-CH. I just had so much trouble making a magic ring, so I decided not to really learn it, thinking that it's just a minor thing. Later on, I realized that it was very important to do the magic ring to be able to crochet, especially an amigurumi.     Eventually, I mastered the magic ring, single crochet, double crochet, and increases. Two weeks of doing it daily from class, she then taught me to crochet a small bag; since it was my first project, I needed very much time to get the things right. It took me five months ...
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MY TACO STORY

   If garlic could kill, I would have died in first grade. So would half my class. It started like this.      When I was six, my mother and dad and I lived in a little town in Bandung . Mr. and Mrs. Sule lived next door. She was motherly and liked to talk. I loved her cooking. He was funny and leathery and smelled of cigarettes. You never knew what he might say.      One evening my parents were going out. Mrs. Sule was cooking Mexican food and she invited me to eat with them. I begged until my folks said yes.     Mr. Sule had invited company, too. The small house sounded like a parade was marching through with grown-ups laughing and calling to one another in every room. Everywhere I walked, the air dripped with spicy smells from Mrs. Sule's steamy kitchen. I didn't feel like talking and laughing. I wanted to eat!      At last, we sat down around a long table crowded with deep bowls and platters on hot pads. On a plate for ...
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Who else in my house? .ᐟ.ᐟ

    My Name is Asya. I was a 5th-grade student in a public elementary school in Bandung. In the COVID period, schools were shut down for a long time, so my sibling who was in 7th grade and I decided to spend over one year at our grandmother's house in Jakarta because lessons were conducted via Zoom and therefore there was no need to go to school. So, on the second semester of 6th grade, we decided to go back to Bandung because schools finally opened face-to-face classes.     First day at school, I had been feeling so tired and dizzy-probably because I didn't feel well, arriving at Bandung that morning at 6 AM and going straight to school without resting after the long travel. My room had been uninhabited for over a year because I just hadn't been in Bandung. I reached home and hollered, "Mom! Dad!" but nobody replied; it seemed nobody was home. Fortunately, I had my house key with me, so I didn't have to wait and was able to enter right away.     It was pit...
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