On my stated list of objectives for this year, I plan to:
1) Learn to play a song or 3 on baritone ukulele to amuse my baby boy. I’m up to 4 chords but strumming still clumsy. Sorta figured out tabs & even printed Early Morning Rain & Landslide & Wheat Kings.
2) Learn to read/write Japanese characters *properly* since I live here, I figured it would be handy – ugh. Noting I’m much better at place name and personal name kanji characters that I am at phonetic kana – thank it’s the same misfiring neural synapse is that prevent me from memorizing the most basic of phone numbers #Dyscalculia
3) Probably something else but I’ll stick to those two.
PS (Really there’s a mighty long list of things to do for putting the house back together, fixing up yard & garden, as well as “life administration” tasks but file the above under personal improvement/enjoyment).￼￼
This handmade kimono waited in an old-timey suitcase for a decade or two before finally finding its purpose has one of three jackets used to conduct a wedding ceremony for the dapper gent on the right and his stunning lady who you’ve seen on the news.
Unbeknownst to the bride or the groom, and most importantly the hyperactive wedding planner, your venerable master of ceremonies conducted the proceedings in two languages and three different jackets to coordinate with the bride’s three dresses.
It’s the nuance that counts.
Note: I know what you’re thinking, but no, I’m retired from wedding officiating duties. Plus, would be hard to top that one with the 13 course dinner which I barely touched a drop of due to trying to remember how to say confusing spiels in Japanese (let alone English!) and a significant desire to not offend the grooms’s visiting family from Japan. This was moderately successfully completed.
Then, I drank all the Sapporos at the bar.
photo credit: Sabrina Jaksa (i’m pretty sure at least)
Fever – coming on stronger now. Gaining now for three days, delirious fits and sleepless tossing, frantic at random hours. Mind you, body never shivers, mind flashes burning pictures of moments. Some I remember might be called a dream but for the anguish. Too real for a nightmare, the pain, the fever, the malaise gains vigor with each grating snapshot. The unfamiliar seeps with fear, I don’t know how it will end. Each episode so far ends with me waking called waking only in that my eyes crack enough to register light or dark.
I twist, fall back into the soaked feather bed drifting, one moment racing a wooden car down bumpy hill, children holler in cub scout knickers, proud with badges, another moment running hard, leaping onto pillars fleeing a unknown enemy or maybe moving towards one, leaping higher columns tumble into oblivion, my feet slip, slide falling, falling next floating in a long abandoned warlord’s damp stronghold dungeon, somewhere atop Teutonic hill slope, the moon shows the shackles through window slits.
Warm and next a campfire warming feet and drinking from a flask as I mumble fading eyes see nothing but white robes walking by from time to time.
Full Remembrance Day ceremony at the Japanese Memorial Cenotaph in Stanley Park, Vancouver, BC, Canada, including: minute of silence, bagpipers, buglers, reading of Flander’s Field and other respectful meditations. Pardon rough edits etc.