YES, I AM ALIVE AND WELL.
Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. I really am alive...and well...and happy.
It's just that I've been so busy. My new boss wanted my ideas on how to improve a PowerPoint presentation.
So I do what I usually do, which is lots of research. I've been Googling on the computer for hours at home...2-3 hours after work and 8-12 hours on the weekends. I get sucked in and have to pull myself away. But I'm having fun and it's so interesting.
Presented my ideas to my manager yesterday; 6 pages of typed comments & a draft re-do of the presentation. She said it was more than what she expected. That's what I want to hear!
Now I'm off researching something else.
I get up at 6:00 AM > meditate for 15 minutes > get cleaned up and dressed > drive to work > work > off after 5:00 PM > home after 6:00 PM > visit with the fam and eat din din > jump on the computer for a 2-3 hours > fall into bed.
I miss my old work friends, my blog and the Cheetos Bill used to bring me so I wouldn't steal his at lunch.
And I know I'll settle into my new job, get to know people and will build new friendships over time.
ABRAHAM-HICKS DAILY QUOTE (see Abraham-Hicks.com > subscribe to daily quotes). "Make a decision and then make the decision right. Line up your Energy with it. In most cases it doesn't really matter what you decide. Just decide. There are endless options that would serve you enormously well, and all or any one of them is better than no decision." -- Abraham
"Line up your Energy." That used to confuse me, but now I understand it means thinking about what I want, feeling the end result of joy (or whatever) and doing this a little while until it feels easy and then notice how I feel. When I feel good about the task or thing and I give it a bit of time, inspiring thoughts and ideas and actions float up for me...while I'm driving, resting, napping, being, sitting outside petting Frankie the cat.
And then I take action.
I've been trying to line up my energy more often. It really does make things easier. It's subtle. And so easy for our mind to dismiss how much easier things are, but it really does work.
Try it. Start with something small (so you don't have a lot of judgment or investment in it) and see how it works for you. Practice makes it easier.
BILL AND KIM HAD THIS FLOWER ARRANGEMENT DELIVERED TO MY HOME.
Isn't it the cutest thing? I LOVE IT! ! !
They were trying to cheer me up and cheer me on as I start my new job.
We keep it on the dining room table so everyone can enjoy it each day. I notice it gets moved around a few inches now and then. And I often find the "mouth" sticking straight up. I think Bachan thinks it's some kind of handle.
And to make the flowers more "important" (because they're from Beeru--Bill), Bachan did this:
(sigh)
May sunshine flowers surround you,
Catherine
Showing posts with label A Bachan Story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A Bachan Story. Show all posts
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Bachan Celebrates the New Year
OBACHAN COOKED FOR TWO DAYS MAKING OSECHI-RYORI, JAPANESE NEW YEARS FOOD. This is a tradition dating back 1,000 years. Uh, that's the age of the tradition, not Bachan.
ALEXIS: Bachan! I'm taking a picture. Open your eyes.
BACHAN: Wha chu talkoon bout? My eye open awready.
I'm soooo happy Bachan had the energy and interest to host a New Year's feast.
BACHAN: I closah closah [closer to the grave]. You nebbah know. Maybe dis my lass one.
ALEXIS: Bachan! You've been saying that for 20 years.
When Bachan was growing up, women cooked osechi the last several days of the year because it was taboo to cook the first several days of the new year. Each dish and ingredient had a special meaning to celebrate the new year, such as good health, fertility, and long life. Osechi is artfully packed in layers inside laquered bento (lunch) boxes. When friends came to visit, the hostess would offer osechi. The guests would eat, drink and visit before moving on to the next house.
Because cooking so many dishes is time consuming, many Japanese today buy osechi from a store. The costly osechi can cost about $250 or more per bento box.
We're so lucky because Bachan is a great cook and cooks everything herself. She roasts, fries and simmers most things with varying combinations of shoyu (soy sauce), sake, mirin (sweet J. cooking wine), shoyu, and sugar. This year she made 17 dishes, not counting rice or dessert. Here are a few pix of our feast.
1 Datemaki (sweet rolled omelette) symbolizes a wish for many auspicious (attended by favorable circumstances) days.
2 The red and white slices of kamaboko (fish cake) represent the Japanese rising sun (flag).
3 Daidai (bitter orange) is a wish for children in the New Year, which Alexis refused to touch.
4 Kurumaebi Tsuyayu (whiskered whole shrimp in the shell) is eaten by elders hoping for a long life.
5 Roasted Tai (snapper) symbolizes a good omen.
6 Everyone must eat kuro-mame (black beans), a wish to work energetically all year. Alexis didn't want to eat them, but I insisted (heh, heh, heh).
7 Kimpiru Gobo (burdock root) represents stability and increased good fortune.
8 Namasu (pickled daikon radish and carrot slivers) express the celebratory colors, red and white.
9 Kazunoko (herring egg sack) symbolizes a wish to be gifted with many children in the New Year. Alexis refused to touch these, too. Hmm. I'm seeing a pattern here.
10 Konbu (a kind of seaweed) represents joy.
And it's not a party unless Bachan shows off a new T-shirt (a Christmas present from Alexis):
Yep. It actually says "screaming ham" [sigh].
May celebrations surround you,
Catherine
ALEXIS: Bachan! I'm taking a picture. Open your eyes.
BACHAN: Wha chu talkoon bout? My eye open awready.
I'm soooo happy Bachan had the energy and interest to host a New Year's feast.
BACHAN: I closah closah [closer to the grave]. You nebbah know. Maybe dis my lass one.
ALEXIS: Bachan! You've been saying that for 20 years.
When Bachan was growing up, women cooked osechi the last several days of the year because it was taboo to cook the first several days of the new year. Each dish and ingredient had a special meaning to celebrate the new year, such as good health, fertility, and long life. Osechi is artfully packed in layers inside laquered bento (lunch) boxes. When friends came to visit, the hostess would offer osechi. The guests would eat, drink and visit before moving on to the next house.
Because cooking so many dishes is time consuming, many Japanese today buy osechi from a store. The costly osechi can cost about $250 or more per bento box.
We're so lucky because Bachan is a great cook and cooks everything herself. She roasts, fries and simmers most things with varying combinations of shoyu (soy sauce), sake, mirin (sweet J. cooking wine), shoyu, and sugar. This year she made 17 dishes, not counting rice or dessert. Here are a few pix of our feast.
1 Datemaki (sweet rolled omelette) symbolizes a wish for many auspicious (attended by favorable circumstances) days.
2 The red and white slices of kamaboko (fish cake) represent the Japanese rising sun (flag).
3 Daidai (bitter orange) is a wish for children in the New Year, which Alexis refused to touch.
4 Kurumaebi Tsuyayu (whiskered whole shrimp in the shell) is eaten by elders hoping for a long life.
5 Roasted Tai (snapper) symbolizes a good omen.
6 Everyone must eat kuro-mame (black beans), a wish to work energetically all year. Alexis didn't want to eat them, but I insisted (heh, heh, heh).
7 Kimpiru Gobo (burdock root) represents stability and increased good fortune.
8 Namasu (pickled daikon radish and carrot slivers) express the celebratory colors, red and white.
9 Kazunoko (herring egg sack) symbolizes a wish to be gifted with many children in the New Year. Alexis refused to touch these, too. Hmm. I'm seeing a pattern here.
10 Konbu (a kind of seaweed) represents joy.
And it's not a party unless Bachan shows off a new T-shirt (a Christmas present from Alexis):
Yep. It actually says "screaming ham" [sigh].
May celebrations surround you,
Catherine
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Bachan's T-Shirt
ABRAHAM-HICKS DAILY QUOTE (sign up at Abraham-Hicks.com > subscribe to daily quotes): My Life Is about My Relationships. You will never find yourself in a point in time when the subject of relationships is not an active part of your now experience, for everything you perceive or notice or know is because of your relationship with something else. Without a comparative experience, you would be unable to perceive or focus any kind of understanding within yourself. Therefore, it is accurate to say that without relationships you could not exist at all. --- Abraham
REALIZATION. I've noticed that since I don't have the structure of work (I'm on vacation), I am not as disciplined about visualizing working at the company I intend to work at. A little structure works for me. I think today I'll try to visualize my new job every hour on the hour, just for a few minutes.
ALEXIS COMPLAINED THAT WHENEVER A FRIEND COMES OVER WEARING A BRIGHT T-shirt, Bachan asks if she can have it.
I never noticed that before.
But I did notice the T-shirt Bachan wore today.
May smiles surround you,
Catherine
REALIZATION. I've noticed that since I don't have the structure of work (I'm on vacation), I am not as disciplined about visualizing working at the company I intend to work at. A little structure works for me. I think today I'll try to visualize my new job every hour on the hour, just for a few minutes.
ALEXIS COMPLAINED THAT WHENEVER A FRIEND COMES OVER WEARING A BRIGHT T-shirt, Bachan asks if she can have it.
I never noticed that before.
But I did notice the T-shirt Bachan wore today.
May smiles surround you,
Catherine
Monday, December 20, 2010
Damn Ham!
Friday, December 17, 2010
WE ARE STILL CELEBRATING ALEXIS' BDAY. THINGS HAVEN'T CHANGED MUCH since she was a kid. As an only child with two extended families, it seemed her bday went on for weeks.
She has always loved The Nutcracker ballet. Not one of my fave's, but hey, it's her day so we climb into the car and drive to Santa Cruz. She has even coerced Bachan to join us.
On the drive over, someone asks why I haven't baked for a while. I'VE BEEN TOO BUSY with holiday shopping, dropping off gifts, the bathroom remodel, resume writing. I usually bake on Sundays and then take the goodies to work. Ever since Alexis was little, we would rate whatever I baked (at the age of 5 she had a hard time making decisions so I thought this little game would help her). A recipe has to have 4-5 stars if I'm ever to bake it again. 1-3 star recipes are torn up, trashed and cursed.
Then Bachan starts talking about ham. God! The damn ham! We have these convos about ham night and day as the holiday nears. I do not exaggerate. It's all Safeway's fault (another reason I don't shop there). They sell it so cheap, Bachan can't resist it. It's like crack to a heroin addict. She can't stop buying hams. I swear, I think we have 4 hams in the house somewhere...in the fridge, in the garage, maybe even one under her bed. She asked me to drop her off at Safeway this morning and she came out with another damn ham. OMG! I'm an enabler!
Who can eat that much ham? We keep telling her we don't want ham, we don't like ham, and please don't buy ham.
We had another heated discussion in the car on the way to the ballet.
BACHAN: I buy hamu today.
CHORUS OF ME, ALEXIS AND JOHNNY: No more ham! No damn ham!
BACHAN: Hamu good. Ebbery buddy lu-voo hamu.
CHORUS: No we don't! Nobody likes ham!
BACHAN: Spilo [spiral] bad. Whole hamu good.
ME: Enough with the ham!
BACHAN: Ebbery buddy eat hamu.
CHORUS: We hate ham!
BACHAN: I gib Malli hamu.
ME: Is she Jewish?
BACHAN: I take hamu Saclamento.
ME: They don't want ham.
BACHAN: Day like ham.
ME: No they don't.
BACHAN: Landy like hamu sanduwich.
ME: He has a heart problem. He's not supposed to eat ham.
BACHAN: Jenny like hamu.
ME: For God's sake! She's a vegetarian.
BACHAN: Hamu good.
ME: It's good once a year; not five whole hams in a week.
BACHAN: You make fly ham. Ham fly lice. Hamu an eggu. Hamu soup.
ME: God! You're a black, Japanese Bubba [from the movie, Forrest Gump]: "You got your fried shrimp, your lemon shrimp, sweet and sour shrimp..."
BACHAN: You make-u gleen bean saladah wit hamu.
JOHN: Man, I haven't had that in years.
ME: Don't encourage her!
BACHAN: Hamu slice...
ME: [groan]
Finally, we get to the auditorium. Bachan has never seen a ballet. We're in the second row. She puts her wet umbrella, bottle of water (she tends to cough and choke to the point of dry heaves in crowded public places which then set off a series of loud, uncovered sneezes), knitted shawl and purse on the seat in front of her.
I explain the story to her while the orchestra tunes up.
The lights dim.
Children and teens in tights and tutus jump through the air, doing pirouettes and flying leaps.
The orchestra plays one rousing Tchaikovsky song after another: Nutcracker Overture, Russian Dance, Waltz of Flowers. They build to a roushing crescendo and then quiet.
The auditorium gently brightens.
Bachan grabs her umbrella, bottle of water, puts on her shawl and picks up her purse.
ME: Whatcha doin', Bachan?
BACHAN: I go.
ME: Uh. It's only half over. This is intermission.
BACHAN: You kidding me?
ME: No. I not kidding you [seamlessly slipping into broken English]. It's only half over. What do you think of it so far?
BACHAN: I gib it one hamu, spilo [spiral].
ME: (sigh)
What little obsession does your Mom or Dad have? Care to share?
May miles of smiles (and no ham) surround you,
Catherine
WE ARE STILL CELEBRATING ALEXIS' BDAY. THINGS HAVEN'T CHANGED MUCH since she was a kid. As an only child with two extended families, it seemed her bday went on for weeks.
She has always loved The Nutcracker ballet. Not one of my fave's, but hey, it's her day so we climb into the car and drive to Santa Cruz. She has even coerced Bachan to join us.
On the drive over, someone asks why I haven't baked for a while. I'VE BEEN TOO BUSY with holiday shopping, dropping off gifts, the bathroom remodel, resume writing. I usually bake on Sundays and then take the goodies to work. Ever since Alexis was little, we would rate whatever I baked (at the age of 5 she had a hard time making decisions so I thought this little game would help her). A recipe has to have 4-5 stars if I'm ever to bake it again. 1-3 star recipes are torn up, trashed and cursed.
Then Bachan starts talking about ham. God! The damn ham! We have these convos about ham night and day as the holiday nears. I do not exaggerate. It's all Safeway's fault (another reason I don't shop there). They sell it so cheap, Bachan can't resist it. It's like crack to a heroin addict. She can't stop buying hams. I swear, I think we have 4 hams in the house somewhere...in the fridge, in the garage, maybe even one under her bed. She asked me to drop her off at Safeway this morning and she came out with another damn ham. OMG! I'm an enabler!
Who can eat that much ham? We keep telling her we don't want ham, we don't like ham, and please don't buy ham.
We had another heated discussion in the car on the way to the ballet.
BACHAN: I buy hamu today.
CHORUS OF ME, ALEXIS AND JOHNNY: No more ham! No damn ham!
BACHAN: Hamu good. Ebbery buddy lu-voo hamu.
CHORUS: No we don't! Nobody likes ham!
BACHAN: Spilo [spiral] bad. Whole hamu good.
ME: Enough with the ham!
BACHAN: Ebbery buddy eat hamu.
CHORUS: We hate ham!
BACHAN: I gib Malli hamu.
ME: Is she Jewish?
BACHAN: I take hamu Saclamento.
ME: They don't want ham.
BACHAN: Day like ham.
ME: No they don't.
BACHAN: Landy like hamu sanduwich.
ME: He has a heart problem. He's not supposed to eat ham.
BACHAN: Jenny like hamu.
ME: For God's sake! She's a vegetarian.
BACHAN: Hamu good.
ME: It's good once a year; not five whole hams in a week.
BACHAN: You make fly ham. Ham fly lice. Hamu an eggu. Hamu soup.
ME: God! You're a black, Japanese Bubba [from the movie, Forrest Gump]: "You got your fried shrimp, your lemon shrimp, sweet and sour shrimp..."
BACHAN: You make-u gleen bean saladah wit hamu.
JOHN: Man, I haven't had that in years.
ME: Don't encourage her!
BACHAN: Hamu slice...
ME: [groan]
Finally, we get to the auditorium. Bachan has never seen a ballet. We're in the second row. She puts her wet umbrella, bottle of water (she tends to cough and choke to the point of dry heaves in crowded public places which then set off a series of loud, uncovered sneezes), knitted shawl and purse on the seat in front of her.
I explain the story to her while the orchestra tunes up.
The lights dim.
Children and teens in tights and tutus jump through the air, doing pirouettes and flying leaps.
The orchestra plays one rousing Tchaikovsky song after another: Nutcracker Overture, Russian Dance, Waltz of Flowers. They build to a roushing crescendo and then quiet.
The auditorium gently brightens.
Bachan grabs her umbrella, bottle of water, puts on her shawl and picks up her purse.
ME: Whatcha doin', Bachan?
BACHAN: I go.
ME: Uh. It's only half over. This is intermission.
BACHAN: You kidding me?
ME: No. I not kidding you [seamlessly slipping into broken English]. It's only half over. What do you think of it so far?
BACHAN: I gib it one hamu, spilo [spiral].
ME: (sigh)
What little obsession does your Mom or Dad have? Care to share?
May miles of smiles (and no ham) surround you,
Catherine
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
I'm Tired of Being the Man
Monday, November 22, 2010
I still haven't opened the white envelope my boss gave me a week ago.
But I did call the 800 number to ask about my retirement benefits.
Then I thought I'd chat with my accountant.
I asked him if my retirement pension would be taxed and how much I would get. Was it a 401K? I don't think so. Did you contribute to it? I don't think so. It was a long time ago, with a different company.
If you take it out now before you're 59 1/2, you'll be penalized. You'll only get 40% (or maybe it was 60%). You don't want to do that. You'll lose 60%...
I was slammed with a feeling in my gut so strong I thought I was going to be sick.
I felt dizzy and was reeling in my chair.
I mumbed something about calling him back.
I had to get out of there.
I went outside for a walk...and sat on my bench by my trees.
I want to feel better.
"Child."
I want to feel better. I feel sick.
"Child."
I want to feel better. I think I'm going to be sick.
"CHILD. Breathe. Trees. Breathe. Sky. Breathe."
Oh, breathe. I can do that. Breathe in...breathe out...breathe in...(I could hear Esther Hicks' voice in my head from the "Getting Into the Vortex" Meditation CD).
I felt better. Hmmm. They've (those that watch over me) never yelled at me before. Guess they had to because I wasn't listening.
Breathe in...breathe out...trees help me...breathe in...breathe out...birds, I see birds...birds mean freedom...they fly anywhere...my thoughts can fly anywhere...they can fly someplace good or someplace bad...I choose good...green trees...clean air...warm sunshine...I'm OK...it is OK...I'm OK.
Whew! Yuk! That felt awful. Now that I've calmed down and back to myself, I realize those horrifying, nauseating feelings weren't mine. I picked them up from my accountant. I know they're not my feelings because I never feel really bad intense feelings like that and I was perfectly fine a second before he talked to me. I gotta remember to put a column of golden light around me before I call him again.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I picked up my baby brother, Johnny, at the airport. He flew in for Thanksgiving and plans to remodel my bathroom. When I saw him at the curb, I got all weepy. I felt relieved...just for a second...that he was going to take care of me. I don't mean forever and I don't mean financially, I just mean he was going to take care of little things (OK, so remodeling a bathroom isn't little, but he does a lot of other things while he's here like replace a headlight and install a new water filter) or maybe I mean he was going to care for me.
Sometimes I get tired of being the man of the house. You know, unplugging toilets, touching up the molding with paint, trying to fix the latch on the gate. I get cranky and have a hissy fit about once every couple years. Maybe I'll send myself a Father's Day card this year.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I drove Johnny, Bachan ("obachan" means grandmother in Japanese; when Alexis was little she used to yell "bachan" so much that now everyone calls my Mom "bachan") and Asako to San Francisco to a Japanese festival highlighting the beauty of Japanese culture and the passing of the seasons in the Ishikawa prefecture (on the main island of Japan, known for its arts and crafts and cultural traditions). Bachan doesn't get excited about much. In fact, she often says "closer closer" in any conversation (meaning "I'm getting closer to the grave" or "I am closer to death"). So when showed me the newspaper announcing the festival and smiling and saying how much she would love to go, I knew I wanted to take her.
We made it OK to the City. It took a little while to walk to the event. Bachan is Japanese. She doesn't walk, she shuffles...slowly...so I tend to herf her from behind trying to get her across the street before the light turns red, "come on...you're doing great...5 more seconds before the light turns red...keep going...you can do it." Whew.
We get inside and find good seats. The emcee greets us and announces the events. There are 140 performers. A female choir group sings four or five songs, a men's choir that sings a couple songs, then the men and women sing together, there is poetry...crrk...ccrkk...crrkrrCCRRK. I look over. It's Bachan...trying to wrestle the wrapper off a hard plum candy. She has no teeth so she can't tear it off. I give her the evil eye. Big mistake. It scares her, she squeeze the bottom of the wrapper, the candy shoots out of the wrapper, flies into the air, hits the floor and then Bop...pop...papapapapa...as it rolls down the floor to the stage.
Someone plays a biwa (short-necked flute), sword and fan dances, shamisen (three-stringed banjo; doesn't she need to tune that thing?), folk songs, models wearing kimonos, ballet ("is tha you baby?" Bachan yells to the man in front of her. Of course it's his baby, he didn't find it on the street. "Don you lose." He's not going to lose the baby. How do you lose a baby?), kokyu (stringed instrument played with a bow), choir ("sing along if you know the words;" Johnny says, "He has no idea what he has done." Bachan begins singing at the top of her lungs).
I'm tired, this thing goes on for hours. It cost $20. I would have paid double that if they would have cut the show in half. I tried to sleep without looking like I was sleeping, but the four women Taiko drummers woke me up.
My favorite part was watching three women dress a woman in Jyunihitoe, an elegant and complex 12-layer kimono worn in ancient times by women at court. It was magical...spectacular. The colors and arrangement are important. The inner most garment is white. Others colors follow with names such as "crimson plum of spring." Altogether they weigh 44 lbs!
And the drummers were amazing. We get home after midnight...yawn...I'm up at 5:30 to get ready for work.
Note to Self: Find out how long an event lasts and take all hard candy away from Bachan.
I still haven't opened the white envelope my boss gave me a week ago.
But I did call the 800 number to ask about my retirement benefits.
Then I thought I'd chat with my accountant.
I asked him if my retirement pension would be taxed and how much I would get. Was it a 401K? I don't think so. Did you contribute to it? I don't think so. It was a long time ago, with a different company.
If you take it out now before you're 59 1/2, you'll be penalized. You'll only get 40% (or maybe it was 60%). You don't want to do that. You'll lose 60%...
I was slammed with a feeling in my gut so strong I thought I was going to be sick.
I felt dizzy and was reeling in my chair.
I mumbed something about calling him back.
I had to get out of there.
I went outside for a walk...and sat on my bench by my trees.
I want to feel better.
"Child."
I want to feel better. I feel sick.
"Child."
I want to feel better. I think I'm going to be sick.
"CHILD. Breathe. Trees. Breathe. Sky. Breathe."
Oh, breathe. I can do that. Breathe in...breathe out...breathe in...(I could hear Esther Hicks' voice in my head from the "Getting Into the Vortex" Meditation CD).
I felt better. Hmmm. They've (those that watch over me) never yelled at me before. Guess they had to because I wasn't listening.
Breathe in...breathe out...trees help me...breathe in...breathe out...birds, I see birds...birds mean freedom...they fly anywhere...my thoughts can fly anywhere...they can fly someplace good or someplace bad...I choose good...green trees...clean air...warm sunshine...I'm OK...it is OK...I'm OK.
Whew! Yuk! That felt awful. Now that I've calmed down and back to myself, I realize those horrifying, nauseating feelings weren't mine. I picked them up from my accountant. I know they're not my feelings because I never feel really bad intense feelings like that and I was perfectly fine a second before he talked to me. I gotta remember to put a column of golden light around me before I call him again.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I picked up my baby brother, Johnny, at the airport. He flew in for Thanksgiving and plans to remodel my bathroom. When I saw him at the curb, I got all weepy. I felt relieved...just for a second...that he was going to take care of me. I don't mean forever and I don't mean financially, I just mean he was going to take care of little things (OK, so remodeling a bathroom isn't little, but he does a lot of other things while he's here like replace a headlight and install a new water filter) or maybe I mean he was going to care for me.
Sometimes I get tired of being the man of the house. You know, unplugging toilets, touching up the molding with paint, trying to fix the latch on the gate. I get cranky and have a hissy fit about once every couple years. Maybe I'll send myself a Father's Day card this year.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I drove Johnny, Bachan ("obachan" means grandmother in Japanese; when Alexis was little she used to yell "bachan" so much that now everyone calls my Mom "bachan") and Asako to San Francisco to a Japanese festival highlighting the beauty of Japanese culture and the passing of the seasons in the Ishikawa prefecture (on the main island of Japan, known for its arts and crafts and cultural traditions). Bachan doesn't get excited about much. In fact, she often says "closer closer" in any conversation (meaning "I'm getting closer to the grave" or "I am closer to death"). So when showed me the newspaper announcing the festival and smiling and saying how much she would love to go, I knew I wanted to take her.
We made it OK to the City. It took a little while to walk to the event. Bachan is Japanese. She doesn't walk, she shuffles...slowly...so I tend to herf her from behind trying to get her across the street before the light turns red, "come on...you're doing great...5 more seconds before the light turns red...keep going...you can do it." Whew.
We get inside and find good seats. The emcee greets us and announces the events. There are 140 performers. A female choir group sings four or five songs, a men's choir that sings a couple songs, then the men and women sing together, there is poetry...crrk...ccrkk...crrkrrCCRRK. I look over. It's Bachan...trying to wrestle the wrapper off a hard plum candy. She has no teeth so she can't tear it off. I give her the evil eye. Big mistake. It scares her, she squeeze the bottom of the wrapper, the candy shoots out of the wrapper, flies into the air, hits the floor and then Bop...pop...papapapapa...as it rolls down the floor to the stage.
Someone plays a biwa (short-necked flute), sword and fan dances, shamisen (three-stringed banjo; doesn't she need to tune that thing?), folk songs, models wearing kimonos, ballet ("is tha you baby?" Bachan yells to the man in front of her. Of course it's his baby, he didn't find it on the street. "Don you lose." He's not going to lose the baby. How do you lose a baby?), kokyu (stringed instrument played with a bow), choir ("sing along if you know the words;" Johnny says, "He has no idea what he has done." Bachan begins singing at the top of her lungs).
I'm tired, this thing goes on for hours. It cost $20. I would have paid double that if they would have cut the show in half. I tried to sleep without looking like I was sleeping, but the four women Taiko drummers woke me up.
My favorite part was watching three women dress a woman in Jyunihitoe, an elegant and complex 12-layer kimono worn in ancient times by women at court. It was magical...spectacular. The colors and arrangement are important. The inner most garment is white. Others colors follow with names such as "crimson plum of spring." Altogether they weigh 44 lbs!
And the drummers were amazing. We get home after midnight...yawn...I'm up at 5:30 to get ready for work.
Note to Self: Find out how long an event lasts and take all hard candy away from Bachan.
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