There was an art museum opening, cherry blossoms, dance troupes, flags, firemen, cute kids and archers on horseback at the Towada Yabusame Festival on 27 April, 2008.
Click on the image to go to Flickr and view the whole set!
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
Not Even Thinking
A couple of days ago, I did something (without even thinking) that I would not have dreamed of doing in the States:
I let some guy in the house.
Chris and I were both home sick, with Chris asleep upstairs (ensconced in the bedroom with four boxes of tissue, two bags of cough drops, a fully-loaded humidifer and sixteen pillows to prop him up) and I was dozing on the couch.
The doorbell rings. I look out and it is, unsuprisingly, some Japanese guy. I wave him through the gates and he says something about checking the propane (our stove is a gas stove modified for LP use, the heat for the house is kerosene). I didn't even think to ask for a badge or other identifying document or anything. (Later there would be a form to sign as always, that was proof right then, but I digress) so I let him in the house, led him to the kitchen, showed him the stove and went back into the living room. Leaving him alone in my kitchen with several really sharp Weusthoff knives, access to the rest of the house, etc.
My biggest concern? That my house was messy. It wasn't - I may not be good at much but I am ace at housekeeping (Sylvia will verify this, you can ask her about the time she came to visit while I was in the middle of cleaning and I wouldn't let her in).
So the safety audit was done with a machine that actually looked like a cross between a geiger counter and a seismograph and no leaks, no contaminants, no radon, carbon dioxide, et cetera were found. I (and Chris) were also NOT murdered in some gruesome manner and then because Japanese neighbors are very private, not found for three weeks and as a result eaten (or at least chewed pretty good) by the cat. But nope. It's amazing safe here and I've come to take that for granted, which is probably a little dangerous and/or lacking in situational awareness on my part.
Oh, the safety check itself took about 15 minutes.
I exchange a few pleasantries in Japanese with the guy, much his delight, then showed him out and it wasn't until a few days later that I realized what I had done. I had just let some dude in my house without being suspicious or concerned in the least. I am sure there are still places in the US where you can do this and there are certainly places in Japan where you CANNOT do this, but still.
So here are some other things that I do that I probably should stop doing because it wouldn't fly in the states:
Run into the store to grab a drink/snack with the car unlocked and the keys in the ignition and the engine running. Actually I shouldn't do this because it's a small thing but helps the enviroment.
Nap upstairs in my house, with the front door open (actually, the screen door is shut, but it's a slider, like that's gonna thwart anyone)
Go running at 10pm on unlit back roads, without a cell phone, mace, Desert Eagle, flares, etc.
Leave my shopping basket with my wallet in it in aisle three while I scoot back to aisle 9 to grab the bottle of shoyu (soy) sauce that I forgot to get when I was first in aisle 9.
Leave my wallet on a bench in an arcade and expect to get everything back (see the Morioka entry-click on the pic to get the story from Flickr).
Leave the house unlocked (often with the front door OPEN) if I run to the store to get shoyu.
Leave the keys in the unlocked car when they're parked at home.
Some neat but too-specialized-to-be-useful-anywhere-but-here I have acquired since living here:
The ability to carry on an entire conversation just using the words good, yes, I understand and sorry, interspersed with head nods and grunts. Seriously, this is even how the Japanese do it.
The ability to perform a proper bow of appropriate politeness (about 20 degrees) during my running workout.
The ability to eat soup with chopsticks.
How to use a squat toilet without:
Falling IN the damn thing
Blowing out my knees
Soiling my clothes
How to wear kimono!
Access to the arcane knowledge all Japanese ladies possess that will allow them to Macguyver themselves out of any situation and/or save the world by using the contents of their designer handbags:
Cell phone
55 packets of tissues
3 bottles of hand sanitizer
1 compact full of expensive makeup
How to walk in the middle of the road, completely oblivious because the cars here will not TRY to run you down.
How to remember to ALWAYS carry and umbrella and pop it open at the mere sight of a teeny gray cloud (more so in Tokyo) AND the understanding of Old Edo umbrella manners - you tip the umbrella to your outside, so that the other umbrella-bearing person (who will also tip his brolly to the outside) walking past you on the sidewalk can get by without having your runoff dumped on him and vice-versa. Believe it or not, I learned this from a subway poster (the Edo Tilt, not Always Carry an Umbrella)
How to properly stow a futon (after you properly air it, dummy).
How use a fancy washlet toilet (it took a pretty serious lesson, though).
I am sure I am forgetting some of my other specialized skills but I think that should do it for now.
4-20-2008
I just remembered:
I can read Katakana, Hiragana and some kanji!
I can take off my shoes by telekinesis (seriously, it's so second nature, I don't even consciously do it).
I let some guy in the house.
Chris and I were both home sick, with Chris asleep upstairs (ensconced in the bedroom with four boxes of tissue, two bags of cough drops, a fully-loaded humidifer and sixteen pillows to prop him up) and I was dozing on the couch.
The doorbell rings. I look out and it is, unsuprisingly, some Japanese guy. I wave him through the gates and he says something about checking the propane (our stove is a gas stove modified for LP use, the heat for the house is kerosene). I didn't even think to ask for a badge or other identifying document or anything. (Later there would be a form to sign as always, that was proof right then, but I digress) so I let him in the house, led him to the kitchen, showed him the stove and went back into the living room. Leaving him alone in my kitchen with several really sharp Weusthoff knives, access to the rest of the house, etc.
My biggest concern? That my house was messy. It wasn't - I may not be good at much but I am ace at housekeeping (Sylvia will verify this, you can ask her about the time she came to visit while I was in the middle of cleaning and I wouldn't let her in).
So the safety audit was done with a machine that actually looked like a cross between a geiger counter and a seismograph and no leaks, no contaminants, no radon, carbon dioxide, et cetera were found. I (and Chris) were also NOT murdered in some gruesome manner and then because Japanese neighbors are very private, not found for three weeks and as a result eaten (or at least chewed pretty good) by the cat. But nope. It's amazing safe here and I've come to take that for granted, which is probably a little dangerous and/or lacking in situational awareness on my part.
Oh, the safety check itself took about 15 minutes.
I exchange a few pleasantries in Japanese with the guy, much his delight, then showed him out and it wasn't until a few days later that I realized what I had done. I had just let some dude in my house without being suspicious or concerned in the least. I am sure there are still places in the US where you can do this and there are certainly places in Japan where you CANNOT do this, but still.
So here are some other things that I do that I probably should stop doing because it wouldn't fly in the states:
Run into the store to grab a drink/snack with the car unlocked and the keys in the ignition and the engine running. Actually I shouldn't do this because it's a small thing but helps the enviroment.
Nap upstairs in my house, with the front door open (actually, the screen door is shut, but it's a slider, like that's gonna thwart anyone)
Go running at 10pm on unlit back roads, without a cell phone, mace, Desert Eagle, flares, etc.
Leave my shopping basket with my wallet in it in aisle three while I scoot back to aisle 9 to grab the bottle of shoyu (soy) sauce that I forgot to get when I was first in aisle 9.
Leave my wallet on a bench in an arcade and expect to get everything back (see the Morioka entry-click on the pic to get the story from Flickr).
Leave the house unlocked (often with the front door OPEN) if I run to the store to get shoyu.
Leave the keys in the unlocked car when they're parked at home.
Some neat but too-specialized-to-be-useful-anywhere-but-here I have acquired since living here:
The ability to carry on an entire conversation just using the words good, yes, I understand and sorry, interspersed with head nods and grunts. Seriously, this is even how the Japanese do it.
The ability to perform a proper bow of appropriate politeness (about 20 degrees) during my running workout.
The ability to eat soup with chopsticks.
How to use a squat toilet without:
Falling IN the damn thing
Blowing out my knees
Soiling my clothes
How to wear kimono!
Access to the arcane knowledge all Japanese ladies possess that will allow them to Macguyver themselves out of any situation and/or save the world by using the contents of their designer handbags:
Cell phone
55 packets of tissues
3 bottles of hand sanitizer
1 compact full of expensive makeup
How to walk in the middle of the road, completely oblivious because the cars here will not TRY to run you down.
How to remember to ALWAYS carry and umbrella and pop it open at the mere sight of a teeny gray cloud (more so in Tokyo) AND the understanding of Old Edo umbrella manners - you tip the umbrella to your outside, so that the other umbrella-bearing person (who will also tip his brolly to the outside) walking past you on the sidewalk can get by without having your runoff dumped on him and vice-versa. Believe it or not, I learned this from a subway poster (the Edo Tilt, not Always Carry an Umbrella)
How to properly stow a futon (after you properly air it, dummy).
How use a fancy washlet toilet (it took a pretty serious lesson, though).
I am sure I am forgetting some of my other specialized skills but I think that should do it for now.
4-20-2008
I just remembered:
I can read Katakana, Hiragana and some kanji!
I can take off my shoes by telekinesis (seriously, it's so second nature, I don't even consciously do it).
Friday, April 04, 2008
Taisho/Pre WWII Kimono
Volunteered at the Big Bazaar again this year. This is quite possibly my last bazaar, if indeed we do PCS in September 2008. To ease my sadness, I wore my most cheery, most favorite vintage kimono.
More picture here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/25679727@N00/sets/72157604376113448/
More picture here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/25679727@N00/sets/72157604376113448/
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Sunset in Morioka
Spent a lovely spring day (3/22/08) in Morioka, with our friend, Ben Lee.
A nice sunset closed out our visit. Click on the pictures to go to flickr and see more pictures from our trip.
A nice sunset closed out our visit. Click on the pictures to go to flickr and see more pictures from our trip.
Monday, March 03, 2008
二 二九 (229)
Aomori Prefecture, where I live, is noted for agriculture. Particularly famous throughout Japan are Aomori apples and GARLIC.
So on Sunday, Chris rolls in from Snowboarding at Hakkoda, with a bag of garlic. The garlic came from coworker and fellow foodie, Crocker.
Generally, in keeping with the Japanese tastes, garlic in Japan is mild. Mild to the point of flavorlessness. So when I opened the bag and got a whiff, I was thrilled. If my schnozz was Japanese, the whiff would have been noisome. But thank goodness, my nose is not Japanese and neither is my palate. Redolent, if not down right stinky, stubby fat bulbs of fresh garlic. Hooray! Thanks Crocker!
I lopped the tops off the seven bulbs, stuck them in a baking dish, gave 'em a squirt of olive oil and a roast at 350 for an hour. The I proceeded to eat three bulbs' worth of the roasted cloves, hot from the oven -- squishy and nutty and slightly carmalized and totally delicous.
My breath is so bad right now, I am making my own eyes water. S'alright.
One of the great things about the Japanese language is opportunities for wordplay/puns because of the amount of homonyms present in the language. Actually, I think of a former co-worker, John Jenkins, whenever I see/hear puns or wordplays. The two of us once spent almost an entire afternoon during a slow day at work, making lots of puns, each more obnoxious than the last. There was a pun involving brassieres and brasseries that was a killer. I can't take credit, that one was all John's.
So puns. And Garlic. One of the most well known brands of garlic around here is the 229 brand.
2 is "NI" ( nee or "as in the knights who say") and 9 is "KYU" (kyuu). So 229 could be pronounced as two-two-nine, or in Japanese, ni - ni - kyu ( 二 二九 ). You could also say two hundred and twenty nine, or nihyakunijyukyu ( 二百二十九), but then the joke wouldn't work!
Here's the "punchline" (aside from the fact that I ate so much roasted garlic that I have heartburn right now):
The word for garlic is ninniku (にんに in hiragana; ニンニク in katakana; 大蒜 or 蒜 in Kanji), which sounds very much like ni-ni-kyu, or two-two-nine (229). So the brand is literally "Garlic Garlic." Clever bit of marketing to select name with a built in mnemonic/catchphrase.
So on Sunday, Chris rolls in from Snowboarding at Hakkoda, with a bag of garlic. The garlic came from coworker and fellow foodie, Crocker.
Generally, in keeping with the Japanese tastes, garlic in Japan is mild. Mild to the point of flavorlessness. So when I opened the bag and got a whiff, I was thrilled. If my schnozz was Japanese, the whiff would have been noisome. But thank goodness, my nose is not Japanese and neither is my palate. Redolent, if not down right stinky, stubby fat bulbs of fresh garlic. Hooray! Thanks Crocker!
I lopped the tops off the seven bulbs, stuck them in a baking dish, gave 'em a squirt of olive oil and a roast at 350 for an hour. The I proceeded to eat three bulbs' worth of the roasted cloves, hot from the oven -- squishy and nutty and slightly carmalized and totally delicous.
My breath is so bad right now, I am making my own eyes water. S'alright.
One of the great things about the Japanese language is opportunities for wordplay/puns because of the amount of homonyms present in the language. Actually, I think of a former co-worker, John Jenkins, whenever I see/hear puns or wordplays. The two of us once spent almost an entire afternoon during a slow day at work, making lots of puns, each more obnoxious than the last. There was a pun involving brassieres and brasseries that was a killer. I can't take credit, that one was all John's.
So puns. And Garlic. One of the most well known brands of garlic around here is the 229 brand.
2 is "NI" ( nee or "as in the knights who say") and 9 is "KYU" (kyuu). So 229 could be pronounced as two-two-nine, or in Japanese, ni - ni - kyu ( 二 二九 ). You could also say two hundred and twenty nine, or nihyakunijyukyu ( 二百二十九), but then the joke wouldn't work!
Here's the "punchline" (aside from the fact that I ate so much roasted garlic that I have heartburn right now):
The word for garlic is ninniku (にんに in hiragana; ニンニク in katakana; 大蒜 or 蒜 in Kanji), which sounds very much like ni-ni-kyu, or two-two-nine (229). So the brand is literally "Garlic Garlic." Clever bit of marketing to select name with a built in mnemonic/catchphrase.
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Itty Bitty Bag
Because cloth/kimono were/are expensive, there is a long tradition of recycling them (going right back to Edo Japan!). Kimono might be recut for a child, made into a haori, or otherwise altered to extend the life of the fabric. Every piece, right down to the littlest, was reused. Pieces of fabric which were smallish might be made into doll's clothes, small drawsting purses, beanbags, hair decorations or ornaments/charms. This little coral bag probably started out life as a haori. I got the fabric in a scrap grab-bag and sewed it up into a teeny drawstring pouch. It contains my ojami , which are small beanbags used in a traditional Japanese girls' juggling game, called Otedama (Te is the Japanese word for hand). Behind the itty-bitty bag it is a larger bag (containg my larger and less-traditional purple suede gballz juggling balls), made from a panel from a pre-WWII kimono I picked apart (there was too much damage to wear it).
When I see Eiko-san in a few days, I'll have to ask her if she knows how to do Otedama.
When I see Eiko-san in a few days, I'll have to ask her if she knows how to do Otedama.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Haikyo
Haikyo is the Japanese word for "ruins." Not to be confused with the Haikyo that is a talent agency representing Seiyu (voice actors for movies, video games, anime, etc).
When we first got to Misawa, I was amazed by the abandoned buildings that seemed to be such a pervasive feature. I always had this perception of Japan as the land of neat and tidy. Living here quickly disabused me of that notion.
Abandoned crap is all over Japan and said crap includes but is not limited to fridges, cars, roads, hotels, apartments, office buildings, roller coasters and even an entire island.
Abandoned places are prevalent and captivating enough that a specialized kind of domestic tourism dedicated to it has arisen; Haikyo tourism is popular enough to warrant several guidebooks and to generate interest in artistic photography of the ruins. There's plenty of websites about Haikyo too, featuring images of beautifully decaying places grimly surrendering to entropy.
I get the whimwhams just looking at the pictures.
Surface Below - Photography of Gunkanjima Island by American photographer Ross McDermott
Deflation Spiral - Folio Number 9 contains my favorite images.
Shinichiro Kobayashi - published by the ubiquitious house of Kodansha. Hokkaido Island is the stingray-shaped island at the top. Directly below that is the prefecture/area where I live.
Ruined Japan
When we first got to Misawa, I was amazed by the abandoned buildings that seemed to be such a pervasive feature. I always had this perception of Japan as the land of neat and tidy. Living here quickly disabused me of that notion.
Abandoned crap is all over Japan and said crap includes but is not limited to fridges, cars, roads, hotels, apartments, office buildings, roller coasters and even an entire island.
Abandoned places are prevalent and captivating enough that a specialized kind of domestic tourism dedicated to it has arisen; Haikyo tourism is popular enough to warrant several guidebooks and to generate interest in artistic photography of the ruins. There's plenty of websites about Haikyo too, featuring images of beautifully decaying places grimly surrendering to entropy.
I get the whimwhams just looking at the pictures.
Surface Below - Photography of Gunkanjima Island by American photographer Ross McDermott
Deflation Spiral - Folio Number 9 contains my favorite images.
Shinichiro Kobayashi - published by the ubiquitious house of Kodansha. Hokkaido Island is the stingray-shaped island at the top. Directly below that is the prefecture/area where I live.
Ruined Japan
Thursday, February 21, 2008
all-nite diner
all nite diner all nite diner all n te dine al n te di er all nite din r
(sign on the fritz) coughing up neon into the 3am world
two souls stagger in
(been up all night)
throw themselves into the naughahyde nirvana
of a back-corner booth
peering over menus
(fingerprinted dogeared)
she flings back her head
and laughs
(in utter delight)
the sound
ricochets--
(an amusing bit of artillery)
--off dinged aluminum walls
and day-old donuts--
takes a spin on the ceiling fan
zooms down the counter
rattles the dishes
whiplashes the necks
of the other patrons
(wotthehellzofunny?)
but mostly
it
just
breaks
his heart.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Slipped
I've lost ten pounds. The weather has been cold.
Doesn't sound like they have any relation to each other but they do.
My fingers have gotten thinner. The cold makes them even more so.
As a result, my custom-made, one-of-a-kind wedding band slipped off at some point today.
We tore up the house and tomorrow we'll go to the Base Exchange and ask if it has turned up.
The ring was insured but how can I ever really replace it?
Doesn't sound like they have any relation to each other but they do.
My fingers have gotten thinner. The cold makes them even more so.
As a result, my custom-made, one-of-a-kind wedding band slipped off at some point today.
We tore up the house and tomorrow we'll go to the Base Exchange and ask if it has turned up.
The ring was insured but how can I ever really replace it?
Friday, February 15, 2008
Monday, February 11, 2008
Imo Mobile
So I was working on my computer and I heard this shrill, high-pitched whine. I'm thinking "awwwmigod, my hard-drive is going...no, wait, awwwmigod, Chris' hard-drive is going!" Yet I can't seem to pinpoint exactly where the sound is coming from.
Then I realized - It's the IMO (sweet potato) saleman! Luckily, I had my camera ready to go and captured the moment, complete with steam whistle. The Imo business must be good, he upgraded his truck! Or maybe this is a different vendor than the one a wrote about long ago.
If I hadn't just finished a snack, I would have run out and got an Imo. They're really good--steamed and sweet and starchy and will totally burn the top of your mouth if you're a greedy pig and don't wait for them to cool down a little bit. Not that it's ever happened to me.
Then I realized - It's the IMO (sweet potato) saleman! Luckily, I had my camera ready to go and captured the moment, complete with steam whistle. The Imo business must be good, he upgraded his truck! Or maybe this is a different vendor than the one a wrote about long ago.
If I hadn't just finished a snack, I would have run out and got an Imo. They're really good--steamed and sweet and starchy and will totally burn the top of your mouth if you're a greedy pig and don't wait for them to cool down a little bit. Not that it's ever happened to me.
So here's the whistle, with a truck attached:
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Pussywillows
Two bucks can buy a lot of happiness, particularly if "happiness" comes in the form of five-foot long pussywillow switches. Technically, I bought 5 dollars worth, since I purchased two bunches and the entire time I was smiling so hugely my face hurt.
Pussywillows remind me of spring as much as they remind me of my godmother's house, with it's unkempt flowerbeds (her husband died years before, and he did all the gardening) and decrepit, falling-down shed. Unlike my mother's neatly ordered beds, I could tromp though these unmade messes, sit down in the midst of them, and even better, pick the flowers. The beds were scattered randomly throughout her huge yard (you don't see yards like that anymore), and there were dead spots, tussocks, and the general creep towards entropy that ensues when the groundsman is no longer around to fight, tame, and otherwise control nature. Along the edges of these slowly reverting beds, as well as along the boundaries of my godmother's chaotic yard, were pussywillows.Unlike the huge, pink(!) catkins on my Japanese pussywillows, the ones growing at my godmother's house were small, silvery-grey, like little pearls. It was hard to snap them off, sometimes I sort of ending up more or less peeling the branches from the main bush. The woody stems were a yellow-green with that earthy, greeny, thin sappy sent that reminds me of spring, of ground squishy with snowmelt and spring rain and just being a kid.
I remember a drainage ditch (which I called a stream) and floating the catkins that had fallen off (or I had pulled off) on it. They floated very well, I think because of the little pockets of air the the "fur" caught. I used to pretend that I was in the sky, placing clouds here and there and they would float along on air currents. When I got tired of this (or bored or hungry or wet enough) I'd go inside my godmother's house and give her the pussywillows.
My godmother always appreciated a bouquet of pussywillows and would always put them in a vase in what was really a dingy, bordering on dirty livingroom, but in my eyes, it was my favorite place to be, because of the candy bowls (more about that some other time), a bookshelf with just my books on it, the ability to be myself and be loved solely for that, and a vase full of whatever blooms where in season and I had picked.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
'Za
While I like Japanese food and am particularly blessed to be smack in the middle of farm country,
I really miss US pizza. In all it's various glories. I was a bit sad there's no entry for "Buffalo-style" yet.
I really miss US pizza. In all it's various glories. I was a bit sad there's no entry for "Buffalo-style" yet.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Couscous for Dinner
Sometimes I suprise myself and produce something both interesting and edible:
Couscous with ginger, cherries, peppers and squash!
Couscous with ginger, cherries, peppers and squash!Friday, January 04, 2008
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
Gantan
"Gantan" is the first day of the new year, which is today!
I fell asleep 15 minutes before the arrival of the new year, thusly sleeping through it. That's really not anything new.
I wish everyone the best for the new year, and hope 2008 is filled with "peace, love and good happiness stuff"for all of you.
I fell asleep 15 minutes before the arrival of the new year, thusly sleeping through it. That's really not anything new.
I wish everyone the best for the new year, and hope 2008 is filled with "peace, love and good happiness stuff"for all of you.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Osoji
Most Japanese households perform a ritual cleaning called Osoji, in preparation for the new year. It's a pretty thorough cleaning and time-consuming enough that most Japanese now wait until a weekend to do it, making do with a symbolic cleaning of the family altar if New Year's Day falls on a weekday.
My mom always did a thorough house cleaning on New Year's day. I followed that tradition to some extent, but I do mine before now, a gaijin version of Osoji.
This year, my Osoji took approximately 28 hours (over two and a half-days). I have a three-bed room, one-and-a-half bath house. The cleaning takes so long because it's top-to-bottom and truly involved. Some of the things I do: I pull down the curtains to be laundered, I pull stuff out of drawers, closets, off of shelves, etc. I also pull up the area rugs and move the furniture and scrub and wax the floors. I usually pull a muscle or two as well. I clean the stove, the fridge, change out fire alarm batteries and stuff like that. Wax the woodwork, clean the ceiling fixtures (guess how many dead bugs in my living room light? Too many!) This year, I had the added fun of snaking our bathroom drains. There's some interesting um, stuff(?) that gets built up in those drains. Yuk. I put aside items to go to charity (clothes that don't fit or I don't wear). I take down the Christmas tree and all the other holiday decorations. I also put up our shiminawa and kadomatsu.
As I'm typing this, it's been snowing all morning and it's looking pretty and white outside. My house is sparkling clean and so cozy. Best wishes for the new year!
My mom always did a thorough house cleaning on New Year's day. I followed that tradition to some extent, but I do mine before now, a gaijin version of Osoji.
This year, my Osoji took approximately 28 hours (over two and a half-days). I have a three-bed room, one-and-a-half bath house. The cleaning takes so long because it's top-to-bottom and truly involved. Some of the things I do: I pull down the curtains to be laundered, I pull stuff out of drawers, closets, off of shelves, etc. I also pull up the area rugs and move the furniture and scrub and wax the floors. I usually pull a muscle or two as well. I clean the stove, the fridge, change out fire alarm batteries and stuff like that. Wax the woodwork, clean the ceiling fixtures (guess how many dead bugs in my living room light? Too many!) This year, I had the added fun of snaking our bathroom drains. There's some interesting um, stuff(?) that gets built up in those drains. Yuk. I put aside items to go to charity (clothes that don't fit or I don't wear). I take down the Christmas tree and all the other holiday decorations. I also put up our shiminawa and kadomatsu.
As I'm typing this, it's been snowing all morning and it's looking pretty and white outside. My house is sparkling clean and so cozy. Best wishes for the new year!
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
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