Hey, hey, hey...
Well I got a fic to post...er...make that a teaser of a fic. Anyhoo that's
all I have to say for the moment, enjoy.

Crikit ^_^ \/,  crikit@geocities.com
Kunobabies Ranma 1/2 Fanfiction
www.geocities.com/tokyo/harbor/6508
Crikit's Wacked out World of Non-Ranma Ranma fics
www.geocities.com/tokyo/harbor/6553

"But he that does not grasp the thorne,
 should never crave the rose."

"Literature is my Utopia. Here I am not disfranchised. No
 barrier of the senses shuts me out from the sweet,
 gracious discourse of my book friends. They talk to me
 without embarrassment or awkwardness."
 Helen Keller
-----------------------------------------
insert standard property ramblings here...

Memories of a dried-up old bag!
A Ranma 1/2 Fanfiction by Tracy Garnett AKA Crikit

When I first approached Cologne asking if I could write her biography she
refused. Apparently it would have been breaking Amazon traditions if she
told of her life to an outsider. So, saying that I understood I thanked her
for the tea and the time and went on my merry little way. That's why I was
so surprised when she called me a couple of weeks later saying she had
changed her mind. I was ecstatic, a woman the likes of Cologne agreeing to
allow me to interview her.

Now here I am sitting in front of a woman that most consider ancient,
waiting to do the interview of my life. Brushing a stray lock of hair from
my face, and readjusting my glasses. I pick my pen and paper off of the
counter, press the record button the tape and ask one question, "Are you
ready?"

Her answer is a smile and a nod. I didn't realize it then but with that
smile and nod the journey was about to begin. A journey that would take me
to the deepest regions of Colognes heart, and soul.

So it is with great pride and deep regret that I bring to you the life of a
Chinese amazon.
------------------------------------------------

"I suppose you are wondering why I had the sudden change of heart. Well I
will tell you. I am not doing this for you, nor am I doing this for myself.
I am doing this for one person, and one person alone�my granddaughter
Shampoo. I realize that by telling the story of my life to an outsider I am
breaking amazon traditions, but I feel the need to tell of my life so far,
in hopes that it will open the girl's eyes. I could just sit her down and
tell all of what I know, and have been through in my life. However this way
she will be able to look back on my life when I am gone and know, that I was
not just her grandmother and an elder of the tribe, but that I was also a
mother, a teacher, a lover�and most of all a woman.

Now what do you want to know? Let me guess you would like me to tell you
about my younger years, am I right? Very well, if you insist.

I was born in the year 1899 to a farming family in the village of Xiashi of
the Zhejiang province. At birth it was decided by my parents that I would be
named Hsu Xiao-yi. Hsu being the family name, Xiao meaning either small or
laugh, in my case it was small, and yi meaning one. So, in essence my name
translated to small-one.

There is not much that I remember of my family but what I do remember I will
share with you.

I was the youngest child in my family, but in the eyes of my parents my
older brother was. That was the way of thinking in China back then. The sons
were all that mattered because they were the ones that would continue the
family name. While daughters were only visitors in the home. It may sound
harsh, but in some ways it is true. Once a daughter was old enough to marry
she would move in with her husbands family. That is why out of the six
children in my family only three were considered part of the family.

My brother's might have been thought more highly of then my sister and I,
but they never acted that way. They never acted superior when we played or
talked. Far from it, they treated us as equals. For my brothers knew a
secret, they knew that whatever they could do, we could perhaps even better.
So when they played we would be invited to join in their games. I being the
youngest was not allowed to join, for I was only a year or two old at the
time. So instead I would sit and watch my mother prepare the meals, or watch
the other children playing. There were times when my mother asked them to
play with me, but that was on rare occasions. It mostly happened when we
were expecting guests. Guests like the ones that arrived in the spring of my
third year.

I was awoken early one morning by my mother. This was not an unusual
occurrence, my mother often woke my sisters and I up in the early morning
hours. What was unusual about it was the amount of attention she was giving
me. Most mornings when my mother woke me, she would give me a little shake,
make sure I opened my eyes and then leave my dressing to the care of my
sisters. But that morning was different.

My mother woke me like always, but instead of leaving my washing and
dressing to my sisters she took care of those duties. Their were no sounds
of protests from my sisters, they took it all in stride, as if they knew why
she was caring for me. Of course I didn't know it then but they did know,
for they both went through the same thing when they were my age.

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