Visiting P.E.I., August 1-5, 2022

 My second cousin Marian White (my maternal grandmother was her great aunt on her father's side) invited me to visit. For reading during quiet times I brought along my Kindle as well as a book titled Life Is Messy by Matthew Kelly. I also had a brand new iPhone, my first, so I could check e-mails. I'm still getting used to it.

I was met at Charlottetown airport by Marian's nephew Darby White-Myers. After supper at her place in Tracadie Cross, he drove me around to see the old family farm, where new owners have demolished the old house, the cemetery where Marian's parents and Darby's mother are buried, and the apple orchard which Marian's brother Ed has begun.

On Tuesday, I went to Mass at the parish church which is less than 1/10 of a mile from Marian's place. Later, we were joined by her niece Natasha (daughter of her brother Maurice), for a drive to Georgetown at the east end of the island, where we had lunch. In the evening we were joined by Darby and his prospective fiancée Marlee for supper.

On Wednesday, August 3, after breakfast we drove to Tracadie Harbour to a mussel processing plant which is operated by John MacKinnon, a cousin of Marian's on her mother's side. She bought a $10 bag of mussels, which was way more than we could eat. She gave most of them to Ed. Back at Tracadie, we drove down a dirt path to Glenaladale. The estate was founded as a haven for Jacobite Catholic Scottish highlanders who were vicims of the "clearances" following the defeat of "Bonnie Prince Charlie" at Culloden. Eventually, the owners also facilitated the relocation of people from Ireland, among whom were my White ancestors about 1840 (before the potato famine).

In the afternoon we had a visit from cousin Ed and his 14 year old son Levi and their dog. After supper we went to say hello to another of Marian's cousins on her mother's side, Robert Hughes. Robert raises cattle and pigs, and he rents four fields adjacent to the path from Marian's to Glenaladale. He raises fodder there (last year barley, this year hay).

On Thursday at Mass, Marian's aunt Edna Kelly introduced herself to me, having guessed that the stranger would be the cousin from the States whom Marian said would visit. In mid-afternoon we drove to Charlottetown, where Marian had errands. As a hostess gift, I bought a gift certificate from Cow's, a popular ice cream and souvenir shop. I also got myself an oven mitt with an image of a sombrero wearing cow and the legend "Mooey caliente." The we met with Ed, Levi, and Ed's wife Janice for my "gala farewell dinner" — my treat.

Friday morning we went to the airport to pick up an Aussie woman who would stay at Marian's as part of the Workaway program — 5 hours of work 5 days per week in exchange for room and board. Then in the afternoon Marian drove me to the airport, U.S. Customs and Immigration procedures in Montréal were time-consuming and annoying, but I got home with no real difficulties.

A Wedding in Colorado

A cousin of mine lives a little outside Pueblo, Colorado. She and her husband adopted three Hawaiian children, the youngest of whom is now 27. Last year he and his girlfriend announced their engagement. Each of them as a son and a daughter from a previous relationship, and all the children get along well. My brother is the young man's godfather, and he and I were invited to the wedding. The father of the groom made reservations for us at a motel just off the Interstate.

We flew to Colorado Springs and rented a car to get to Pueblo, arriving at about 10 p.m. the Thursday evening before the wedding. On Friday we did some sightseeing and went to Mass at noon in the Cathedral. Pueblo is an attractive city with an interesting history. We were invited to the rehearsal dinner so we went to the rehearsal and followed the groom's father to the dinner. The dinner — Mexican-style food — was prepared by the parents and other relatives of the couple and held at a small function hall. (Except for my cousin and the Hawaiian children, the families are completely Hispanic.)

During my sightseeing in the afternoon, my camera had run out of space on the memory stick, so after the dinner I went to a Walmart to try to find another memory stick. They didn't have one that would work in my camera, and the clerk suggested I try a Best Buy. By then it was too late for that evening, so I set out Saturday morning. It took some time for me to find a Best Buy, meanwhile looking in several other likely-seeming stores without success. I finally located a Best Buy, and they didn't have what I needed either. By then it was getting close to the time for the wedding, so I went back to the motel to pick up my brother and go to the church. He managed to delete some old images from the memory stick, so I was able to get a few photos.

There is a Hispanic custom involving a beaded cord with two loops called a lazo which is placed over the heads of the couple. I had never seen it before, and thought it was a nice symbol of their being joined. Apart from that, the Mass went abut as usual for a wedding, and it was a joyous occasion. The couple's daughters were flower girls and the sons were ring bearers.

The reception was across town at 5:00, which gave my brother and me time to go to Mass at 4:00 at the cathedral to fulfill our Sunday obligation — which was good since we'd be traveling all day Sunday. The reception was a catered buffet, with a cash bar, and a DJ supplying the music. The food was quite tasty. A while after the first dances, the groom's brother (one of the groomsmen), his children, and his very pregnant girlfriend were at my table. My cousin came by and told the girlfriend, "Now that the wedding's over, you can go into labor whenever you want." And she had the baby a week or so ago. I gather they're also planning to get married, but I hope I'll be able to save some money before they do. These trips aren't cheap. I just realized that I shouldn't be hoping they'll continue cohabiting out of wedlock for my fiscal comfort.

My cousin reported that during her dance with her son she had tears streaming down her face.

My brother and I left the reception before the throwing of the bouquet and of the garter and the cutting of the cake, because we had to get up early to get to Colorado Springs for a fight shortly before 11:00. With a change in Dallas, we arrived in Boston about six hours later.

Although the young people seem to have the typical sexual amorality of their generation, they otherwise seem to take their faith seriously. The bride wanted a Mass for the wedding, which meant they'd be receiving Communion, and she chose scripture reading which were not the usual, obviously taking it very seriously.

All in all, it was a very good trip.

Tanglewood 2017

Thirty or so years ago I went to Tanglewood for the first time. I went with my mother and some other relative(s). A week ago I went for the second time. I had invited two internet friends — Zack, whom I had met several years ago thanks to Bob, and who has visited me several times, and Peter, whom I had never met, but whom I have known on blogger and twitter for about ten years — to join me for the three Boston Symphony concerts of August 11-13. Both agreed, and I ordered tickets and made motel reservations. We planned to meet between 3:00 and 4:00 on Friday afternoon.

Friday. Peter is a grad student in History from Western Pennsylvania, and he prepared for the trip, researching sites of historical significance he could visit in conjunction with the trip. So on the drive to Massachusetts, he made a stop at FDR's home in Hyde Park, NY. Zack drove directly form his home near Syracuse, NY. My trip, along the Massachusetts Turnpike (route I-90), took an hour and a half longer than normal because of heavy and slow moving traffic much of the way. I didn't arrive until about 5:00. We had supper at a Friendly's across the street from our motel in Lee, and, with the help of Peter's map and directions app, made the 15 minute ride to Tanglewood without any difficulty.

The concert consisted of Dvořák's Carnival Overture, followed by the Double Concerto, for violin and cello by Brahms, and after intermission The Rite of Spring by Stravinsky. It was a good concert, with each piece enjoyable in its own way. During the concert it began to rain, and we got pretty wet on the way back to my car. Back at the motel about 11:00 we agreed to meet at 9:00 the next morning for a trip Peter wanted to take to a historical home he had learned about in his preparation for the trip.

Saturday.  In Manchester, Vermont, Robert Todd Lincoln — Abraham's only son who survived to adulthood — had a family home built in 1905. He called the estate Hildene. It was in an area which he and family members had visited regularly. The drive there took about two hours, and we spent a couple of hours touring the impressive house and spacious grounds. Although the building is fairly large, it does not have many rooms. It is designed for a family to live there in comfort. After our visit we went to Manchester's best known restaurant, Mulligan's, for a late lunch. Peter had also discovered it during his preparations for the trip. We got back to our motel in Lee late in the afternoon. At that point, nobody wanted to eat supper before the concert, so we got some takeout food from Friendly's to reheat and eat afterwards.

Arriving at Tanglewood, we saw that there was a "Grill" which was in operation, with an adjacent beer and wine patio. Zack and I had some coffee. The concert consisted of a recently composed work, Incantesimi, by Julian Anderson. It wasn't the greatest thing I've ever heard, by a long shot, but I found it listenable. Petert and Zack were unimpressed. There were no complaints about the Brahms Violin Concerto or Beethoven's Symphony No. &, which followed. This time the rain, lighter than on Friday, held off until we were in the car on the way back to the motel. We enjoyed our little snacks.

Sunday.  Sometime in the middle of the night I fell out of my bed. An involuntary contraction of some muscle r muscles near the base of my right ribs gave me considerable discomfort; when I moved in certain ways, it was painful. It took me about forty minutes to get dressed, but after I found some aspirin in my suitcase and took a couple, the movements (going from sitting to standing or vice versa, bending over, lifting things with my right arm) became tolerable. I went to the Dunkin' Donuts across the parking lot to change a $20 bill so I could put something in the collection at the 8:00 Mass. A cup of coffee and a jelly doughnut served the purpose and furnished breakfast.

Zack had decided that he wanted to visit the Basketball Hall of Fame, so after I got back from Mass, he left for Springfield. Checkout time at the motel was 11:00, and the gates at Tanglewood didn't open for the 2:30 concert until noon. It was a beautiful, sunny day, so we were able to spend some time strolling around Lenox. We arrived at Tanglewood shortly before 1:00. Once inside we picked up some bagged lunches I had ordered when I ordered the tickets. I also bought a beer at the beer and wine patio, and we ate our lunches at tables between it and the Grill. Afterwards there was plenty of time to stroll around the grounds and admire the houses there which predate the establishment of Tanglewood.

The concert was the Overture to Mozart's Marriage of Figaro, followed by the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto (with Joshua Bell as soloist) and the Great C Major Symphony by Schubert. It was, of course, a very fine concert; but, if the truth were known, I tended to doze off several times.

I had invited Peter to stay ay my home near Boston for the next five or six days, so we reutrned to the motel, where he got into his own car, and, after he bought some gas, we headed east on I-90 at 6:00 p.m. The traffic was a slow as it had been on Friday. Having gone about 100 miles in three hourts, we stopped for some food at a McDonald's, and arrived at my home about 10:30, which was about two hours later than I would have expected.

Conclusion.  A high school classmate of mine spends time in the area every summer and attends a number of the concerts. When he learned that I would be there he suggested he might meet me at one of the concerts, but if he attended any of them, he never managed to locate me. It would have been enjoyable to see him there, but it was a good trip nonetheless.

Despite the massive traffic delays and the injury,* it was a fine weekend. I was very happy to finally meet Peter in person and to spend time with Zack. For years I have been looking at Tanglewood brochures, but never finding a series of concerts which was such "must listening" that I actually made the effort to arrange to go there. And once my Race Committee schedule was set, that would limit my freedom to head out to the Berkshires. This year, with the prospect of meeting the others, I kept the weekend free. Since both Peter and Zack seem interested in going again, I'll look for a weekend with an attractive set of programs. I'll also hope that each of them can visit me here some time.

* Over the course of the past week, the discomfort has greatly subsided. There is still some tenderness with some motions, but it's not nearly so bad, and there is no constant soreness. I expect it to clear up completely before long.

My Trip to PEI, August 2014 — Part 3: End of Visit & Going Home

Marian had planned to take the young nephew to a show in Crapaud titled "The Mermaid and the Droplets." It was a combination of dance and offstage voicing presenting the concept of the water cycle(s) — water to vapor to clouds to rain, rivers, oceans, underground aquifers. The concept came from a 4th grade class, and this was the last show of the second summer of performances. It was scheduled for 1:00, and since it was on the way to the bridge, I decided to go along.

So after Mass, I packed, while Marian had some activity to go to. We were to meet at Ed's at noon to pick up the nephew and head off to Crapaud. On the way to Ed's I stopped to fill up my gas tank. Then I thought of going downtown to get a hostess gift for Ed's wife Janice, but time was a bit tight, so I went straight to Ed's, arriving about 11:50. Marian was ready to leave immediately, because she was worried that the show would sell out (it didn't). It was performed by teenagers and was actually pretty good.

When the show was over, I left for Fredericton, NB — about a 3 hour drive. To prevent drowsiness, I stopped for a cola in Moncton, and got to Fredericton about 5:30. It's really a charming little city, and I recommend a visit to anyone traveling in New Brunswick. I decided to stay in the fancy hotel downtown. The exterior has been renovated and the lobby is modern, but the corridors are old-fashioned elegant, which I liked a lot.

On Friday, I got under way about 10:00 and reached the border about 11:15 (10:15 Eastern Time). I refueled in Bangor, had lunch at a McDonalds in Waterville, and as on Thursday, stopped for some caffeine and a break — in Kittery, ME. It didn't look practicable to get right back on Rte. I-95, so I drove via Rte. 1 across to Portsmouth, NH, and through the city to get back on the superhighway. Then I got home without further stops or incident, arriving home about 4:45. With the time zone difference, I had been on the road slightly under 8 hours (including breaks) and was pretty frazzled. Maybe that's why I forgot to put water in the pot when I started steaming the salmon. Eventually I realized, and put water in the pot for the second half of the cooking time. It was still good, if a little drier than usual.

There was a lot of time in transit for the actual time on the Island, and it ended up costing more for gas and food and lodging than I had imagined, but it was good to see the family and the shows. So I'm glad I made the trip, and I'd have liked to spend more time there if I hadn't had to get back for Race Committee duty.

My Trip to PEI, August 2014 — Part 2: Two Days on the Island

Marian likes to plan activities, and she had several items planned for my visit. She knew that I'd like to go to Mass, so she informed me that there would be Mass in the church just up the street on Tuesday and Thursday at 9:00 am. Shee didn't go to it, but I did. After her yoga class we headed off to her mother's apartment (assisted living?). The mother is 90ish, sometimes uses a walker, and is still in excellent shape mentally. Marian prepared a nice lunch for us. As we were finishing, a brother of hers showed up for a visit and ate the leftovers that could have been the mother's lunch the next day.

Next we visited the graveyard where her father and other ancestors are buried, picked raspberries (2 pints at $3.00 each, which I paid for since she was short of cash), and got a half gallon of ice cream for the berries (again I paid). I also bought 500g of Island honey to bring home. Back at her house, I heard an interview on the radio with two of the actors in the Watermark Theatre Company of North Rustico's production of "The Lion in Winter," and decided to go. Marian had wanted to have me go with her to Dalvay-by-the-Sea to enjoy some of their sticky date pudding. By rushing through supper, we were able to leave in time to get to Dalvay and have the pudding — very tasty — pick up a friend of hers in Rustico, and get to the theatre in good time for the show. The friend's birthday was the next day, so Marian paid for his ticket as a present, while I picked up our two. I thought the show was well acted, but the play never explained why the 12th century Plantagenets were constantly intriguing against one another as the author imagines them. Maybe it's just the desire of each to be in control. One interesting bit was the indication of a homosexual liaison between Richard Lionheart and the King Philip of France, when Philip was 15 (a few years before the action of the play).

On Wednesday she planned for me to visit her Aunt Mary's widower at a seniors' home in the morning and to meet her in mid-afternoon for a visit to one of Mary's lifelong friends. (It had been Mary who had kept in contact with my mother for many years and had supplied our address to Marian just before Mom died.) The visits both went well. Mary's husband was drowsy and kept nodding off, but seemed happy to have my visit. The friend was even sharper than Marian's mother, and had a lot of reminiscences of history of our family and friends.

Between those visits, I went to Mass at St. Dunstan's Basilica, bought a ticket for "1864: The Tall Hat Chronicles," had a lunch of fish and chips, and bought a couple of souvenir magnets at Province House, where the Charlottetown Conference of 1864 took place. After the visit with the family friend, I was invited to dinner at Cousin Ed's. He's the one whom I just missed seeing the evening I arrived. So I had a nice visit with him and his wife and their 6-year-old son.

After dinner, I went to the theater for "1864: The Tall Hat Chronicles," (links to video and audio) which was, surprisingly, the only thing I could find which directly dealt with the 1864 conference — and it did so in a zany and often risqué manner. It was really funny. The show began at 9:00 p.m., and when it was over shortly after 11:00 it was raining. I checked the map to be sure how to get to the route back to Marian's. As I drove through the rain in the dark, I was amazed at how blurry everything was. After I missed a turn about ½ mile from Marian's, I checked the map again, and as I did so I realized that I had been wearing my reading glasses. Things became much clearer once I changed to my driving glasses.


Still to come: Thursday on the Island, and then going home.

My Trip to PEI, August 2014 — Part 1: Getting There

I've posted earlier about visiting the cousins on Prince Edward Island. (Click on the label PEI to see earlier posts.) It's been several years since I went there, but this year the Province is celebrating the 150th anniversary of the Charlottetown Conference, which the was first step toward confederation: the unification of Canada, which until then had been separate colonies. I figured there would be activities, exhibits, and the like that would be worth seeing. It turned out there wasn't much alone those lines, but there were various performances in various venues in celebration of the event.

The dates of August 4-8 were open on my calendar, so I asked my cousin Marian, my principal contact with the family, if it would be a good time for me to visit, and she said nobody else had reserved the time. She is very hospitable, and will pack relatives and friends into her house very willingly. She also gladly takes care of nephews and nieces when their parents need someone to look after them for a while.

It's something over a 600 mile drive to her place, and I decided to drive to Bangor — about ⅓ of the distance — on Sunday, and do the rest of the drive on Monday. It worked out pretty well, except I missed a turn in Charlottetown (because I thought I needed to be taking the route from C'town to the west, but I needed to go eastbound — I always think east and west on the Island are the opposite of what they are), and then I missed another turn near her place. So I only got there a couple of minutes before she had to leave for a nearby event, and it turned out I had just missed seeing the cousin whose sons I stayed with in 2010. He was taking his third son and a nephew to a soccer match. Marian had prepared a pot of mussels for me and an old friend of hers who was visiting the Island and staying a few miles away. She told me to eat half of them, and I had all I wanted, along with some rolls and butter. There were leftovers after the friend and I had all we wanted.

Another Trip Next Week

I'd been hoping to post something more substantial (Still might), but I want to let you know that I'll be heading up to PEI to visit the cousins. I'll leave sometime Sunday afternoon and be back on Friday the 8th in the p.m.

As usual, I'll be leaving the internet behind, and I have Race Committee duty on the 9th. So don't be alarmed unless I don't even show up on twitter by the 11th. Hopefully, I'll get around to blogging about the trip fairly soon after I get back.

Meanwhile, have fun, and don't do anything I wouldn't do.

Going to 50th Reunion

I'll be away for a few days, starting Thursday, while I attend my college class's 50th reunion this weekend. I expect to be back on Sunday, June 1st.

I don't take the internet with me when I travel, so I won't be in touch here while I'm away.

Catching Up

Actually, there haven't been a lot of events to write about since I did my post on February 8.

I went to the theater in Boston on February 13 to see "Red Eye to Havre de Grace," a play with music about the last days of Edgar Allan Poe (who, I was surprised to learn, was born and raised in Boston, the son of actors who had immigrated from England). It showed his impecuniousness, and his attempts to present his latest ideas about the origin and destiny of the universe, which he had spelled out in a book titled "Eureka." While there is, as the playwrights note, some slight foreshadowing of the Big Bang theory, mostly it came across as incomprehensible. On the lecture circuit, where he tried to present his theory, audiences were more interested in hearing him recite "The Raven," which he found very frustrating. All the while, he was haunted by the death of his wife. After a lecture in Philadelphia, he was supposed to go to New York, but he was seen headed south on the train going to Havre de Grace. Several days later he died in a hospital in Baltimore. It was fascinating to see the depiction of this unfold.

Amazingly, perhaps, I've only been to one concert during this time: the Boston Symphony on February 20. But the BSO has only given one other on a Thursday in that time, namely, "Salome" on March 6. I had a ticket for it but exchanged it for the concert on March 18, when they'll play Beethoven piano concertos and one of the Leonore overtures — part of a series which will include all 5 piano concertos, all 3 Leonore overtures, and the triple concerto. I'll get to all of them. As for the Harvard Musical Association, they had a concert on March 7, but I forgot about it until it would have been difficult to get there.

But I have been making plans. My 50th college reunion will be May 29-June 1 in D.C. I've registered for it and made my flight and hotel reservations. I've also made arrangements to spend June 23-27 at the monastery I thought of joining shortly after college. It will partly be a spiritual retreat, and partly a visit with my old friends. At some point in the summer, I'll go to PEI to visit my cousins and see some of the festivities marking the 150th anniversary of the Charlottetown Conference. And I'm very much looking forward to meeting (former?) fellow blogger Peter when he visits Boston for a Pops concert conducted by John Williams.

I went to the movies a couple of days ago and saw "12 Years a Slave." It's a powerful depiction of the evils of slavery in the pre Civil War South.

As I watched videos of Pete Seeger after his death, I came across a couple with Johnny Cash in them. Following links from those, I was reminded of the Carter Family. (Johnny Cash had married Maybelle Carter's daughter June.)I had first encountered the Carters' music through recordings of some of their songs by Joan Baez early in her career, and I had bought a couple of LP compilations of some of their songs. I started listening to videos of that music (audio, mostly, accompanied by pictures) and became really fascinated by them — so much so that I went to Amazon and bought three books about them, a set of 5 CD's of their earliest recordings, and a CD and vinyl LP of Sara and Maybelle. I even toyed with the idea of going to Virginia early in August to attend a couple of performances at the Carter Family Fold, but I don't think I can afford it this year, with all the other trips I have planned.

If you're interested in hearing what the Carter Family actually sounded like, here are some links.

Bury Me under the Weeping Willow, the first song they recorded. This may be a later recording of the song, but it gives the full flavor of what they could do. (Some of the accompanying photos, with children, are for a spread that was made for Life magazine in the fall of 1941. It was preempted by the attack on Pearl Harbor and never got published.) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YCniFuHlPG0

Wildwood Flower, which became one of the signature tunes for Maybelle and her daughters. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4xjqpARrHM

The Storms Are on the Ocean, the fourth song recorded the first day in Bristol, Tenn. (That's Jimmie Rodgers at the left in the photo, which dates from several years later.) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v-iXemfEkFw

The Poor Orphan Child, third song they recorded. I hadn't heard it until this year, and it became an earworm for me. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3-EkYhJR3gs

When the World's on Fire, with a tune that Woddy Guthrie later used for This Land Is Your Land. The Carters also used it for Little Darling Pal of Mine. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qxo-zayI6tE

Farther On, sung by Sara in about 1966-7 on a reunion album with Maybelle (but this is a solo by Sara, at age 69), nearly 40 years after the original recordings. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1OSxpkNHshw

You'll see links to lots of other videos. God Gave Noah (pron. Noay) the Rainbow Sign contains the line, "the fire next time." The later ones with Sara and Maybelle have their own interest. I find the 8 minute one especially interesting — it contains some reminiscences by Sara along with footage of the two performing.

Japan Diary, Part Five

June 5 & 6  Wednesday was trash day. Stuff had to be at curbside for pickup by 7:30, so it was my first order of business after waking up at about 5:00 a.m.. In mid-morning I went food shopping at the stores nearest to the house. Had breakfast when I got home, watered and misted the plants*, brushed the cats, was surprised when Minka licked my hand. In mid-afternoon, I had lunch, worked sudoku and crossword puzzles in the newspapers.

*Yang Yang decided it was a good idea to drink the water in the dishes under the plants. I decided it wasn't. When I picked him up and was carrying him to his water dish, he struggled and scratched my arm.

From about 5:00 to 7:00 p.m., I took a nap, then watched some baseball on TV. Unlike my country, they don't have baseball games on TV every day. It seems that every Japanese major league team has one or two American players. A noticeable difference in crowd behavior is that when each team is at bat, there are numbers of fans wearing team colors who sing the team pep song. So there's no quiet time (except maybe between innings and halves of innings).

I got to dinner about midnight.

Cod, sauteed peppers and mushrooms, salad, black coffee (in pot), manhattan, white wine.

Thursday morning, having gone to bed at about 2:30, I was awakened at about 5:00 to feed the cats. I got up at about 6:00, and Yang Yang paid a brief visit at about 6:30.

At about 7:30 I went out to take a walk along the pedestrian promenade.

A view of a side street across Shiroyama Dori (the street the promenade parallels) from the promenade.

Near the farthest point of my walk, perhaps a mile from the point where I started.

I find it a little surprising that they put it in English. This is in an area where I think there are very few English speakers, and few of them who would be unable to handle the Japanese.

A tile embedded in the promenade. This looks like an old map of the area.

Hollyhock.

I saw a couple of maps which showed a fairly direct route from near the annex back to the house via regular roads, so I decided to try it. At one point I became uncertain which way to go, but I knew that going right would either get me where I wanted to go or back to the promenade. Eventually I arrived at an intersection a couple of blocks from my brother's house and got back to the house just after 9:00. After that it was a relaxed day of newspapers and TV and occasionally looking in on the cats. They spent most of their time in the main bedroom, but Yang Yang also liked to spend time looking out from the breezeway between the two houses. Once in a while Minka joined him for a moment.

Yang Yang in the bedroom.

Minka on my s-i-l's bed.

My brother and s-i-l were due back late that evening, so I had dinner early and cleaned up the kitchen.

Chicken livers and hearts (they came attached to each other) sauteed with mushrooms etc. on toast points. Usual beverages.

When the folks got back we had a little collation which included some German cheeses and pastries I had bought. I got to bed about 1:30.

June 7  Friday was my return to the States (via Toronto).

My brother in what I understand is a fairly typical pose with the cats. Minka doesn't curl up in a lap, just drapes herself over one thigh. Yang Yang is not a lap cat at all. (If you recognize my brother, please keep it confidential).

My sister-in-law drove us to the station, where my brother and I caught a train to Shinjuku. There my brother made sure I found the train to Narita. It turned out my flight was delayed, which meant less time in Toronto. So I decided just to stick close to the gate. After an hour or so I realized that the gate I was at was my seat number, not the plane's departure. Fortunately, there was plenty of time to recover from that misreading of the boarding pass.

The flights were smooth and uneventful, although the Tokyo-Toronto leg went well south of the normal route, making the distance considerably longer than normal, but the pilot made up for it by flying about 100 mph faster than normal, so our flight time was about as scheduled. I suppose the change of route was to avoid rough weather.

I arrived home in a downpour from a tropical storm and got drenched just going from the van to my front door.

It was a pleasant and relaxing time in Japan, and my brother was very grateful. He said that if I hadn't come, he'd either have cancelled his trip or spent the whole time worrying about the cats.

Well, that concludes the trip. I may post a follow-up, with some words about the cost of the whole thing and pics of the loot I picked up, but these five "diary" posts give you the basics. I hope it was somewhat interesting.

Japan Diary, Part Four

June 2  I woke up about 5:30, fed the cats, shaved, said my morning prayers, generally relaxed, and finally had breakfast at about 8:30.

To get to Mass at St. Francis Xavier chapel at Sophia University, I needed to get to Shinjuku (a major rail hub in Tokyo) via the Odakyu Line, then take either the Chuo Line or the Maronouchi Line to Yotsuya Station. There was a change of trains on the Odakyu Line several stops before Shinjuku, which my brother had told me about. I had forgotten about it, but when the announcement was made on the train, I knew what it meant. I had hoped to take the Maronouchi Line, because in January 2010 I had taken the Chuo Line. But I couldn't follow the directions to it in the station, so I took the Chuo Line and got to Yotsuya with no difficulty. It helps that station announcements are made in Japanese, Korean, and English and that station signs are in Japanese and Korean and in Roman alphabet. The church is just across the intersection from the station exit.

The church is a fairly large, oval, gray brick building, with tall stained glass windows.

A general view of the interior, including pulpit, altar, tabernacle, and several of the windows.

(Click on photos to enlarge for greater detail.)

The window the the left of the altar in the previous photo.

Another window.

Detail of one of the windows in the rear of the church.

The noon Mass was in English. I made the mistake of putting ¥5,000 in the collection basket, rather than 500 (i.e. about $50, rather than 5).

In the courtyard outside, they were having a bazaar, with all the usual sorts of stuff — mostly handmade cloth articles.

A banner announced the event (I think).

There were a few musicians, including this guy.

Here's the section where they had food. Most was typical Japanese items, but I settled for a hot dog.

It was explained to me that this table had ceramic wares made by the clients of a program for the developmentally handicapped, which operated in the area near Mt. Fuji. toward the left are bowls with a blue design. These may be the ones that seem to show a stylized cat's face. I bought one for my brother and sister in law.

I also bought this smaller bowl for myself.

I returned to Shinjuku via the Maronouchi Line. Then via the Odakyu Line to Kyodo, where I bought a large bowl of noodle soup at a semi-automated noodle shop. (There's a numbered menu with pictures of the items. You put money into a machine and click the number of the item you want. The machine produces a ticket which you take to the counter. They ask if you want soba or udon noodles in your soup. When your order is ready they call you.)

After I got home, I watched some baseball on TV. The teams all seem to have one or two Americans on them. I had a nap, watered the plants, said my evening prayers, and had a steak dinner, which I forgot to take a picture of (sorry).

June 3 & 4  The next two days included some reading, a fair amount of TV watching (costume dramas mostly), watering the plants, doing the sudoku and crossword puzzles in the English language papers my brother gets, and grocery shopping.

The cats were good about letting me know when they were hungry.

They also knew how to relax.

Monday evening I had salmon with asparagus on toast.

Tuesday I bought some sandwiches at the university student coop. The one in the bun was pretty good and so was the cutlet sandwich. The one in the middle was mainly veggies and not very tasty.

At the cash register the clerk opened a drawer under the register and said something which included the words "go en." After a few seconds I remembered that my brother had told me that he was annoyed that they charge five yen for a plastic bag. I then remembered that "go" is Japanese for five, and "en" is Japanese for yen. Somehow I managed to convey that I was willing to pay the extra ¥5, and I got a bag to carry the sandwiches and a bottle of beer brewed by a company founded by a graduate of the uni.

Tuesday evening I watched the highly anticipated soccer (football) match between Japan and Australia. Keisuke Honda, a big bleached-blond player, got to take a penalty kick in extra time when an Aussie touched the ball with his hand. His scored a goal, which created a tie, enabling Japan to qualify for the World Cup, and that had people celebrating in the streets and pubs all over Japan.

My dinner that evening was pork cutlets with mushrooms on toast points and some leftover beans. They're sort of like edamame, but bigger. You take the beans out of the shell, and then you take the membrane off each bean.

On each of these days, I went to bed between 12:30 and 12:45, whereas earlier in the trip I had been retiring well before midnight. I suppose it has to do with the fact that when I'm alone, I tend to put off dinner until late in the evening.

This leaves three more days, which I expect to cover in my next post about the trip. There will be some kitty pics and some additional ground covered in a walk along the promenade, and then bro and s-i-l got back, and I had my return flights.

Japan Diary, Part Three

This post will have lots of pics, mostly from early morning walks I took. I hope they give you some idea of what it's like in a basically residential area of Tokyo. When my grandmother was alive and I'd show her pics from my travels, she'd say, "That's lovely, Joe," at each one. Finally it dawned on me that what she meant was, "This is very boring, don't linger on it." So if you find these "lovely," feel free to skim. If you're not bored, I hope the captions will be adequate. I'll be happy to answer questions (if I know the answer). As always, click to enlarge. (I recommend it.)

May 31 I woke up early again (about 4:00) with the sky beginning to brighten, but I tried to get back to sleep. I got up at about 5:30 and headed out for a walk at about 6:00. There is a street which runs past my brother's side street, goes down a hill, crosses a main street, and then goes uphill to the railroad station. Unusually for Japan, both streets have names. Nodai Dori goes to the station, crossing Shiroyama Dori along the way. In earlier times there was a river running through the low area, but now it has been placed in an underground channel, and there is a pedestrian promenade along its former course

Nodai Dori near my brother's house, looking north. The pedestrians give some idea of the width (i.e., narrowness) of the street.

Notice the absence of front yards. If a building doesn't come up to the street line, there is usually a wall or fence. Possibly with shrubbery.

Hydrangeas just beginning to bloom at an intersection.

Continuing along toward the station, approaching the dip.

The tall building in the distance is next to the station. It houses the Peacock department store, which is one of the places my brother showed me to shop for food. There is a bowling alley on the top floor, and you may be able to see the large bowling pin on the roof. (Actually, I can't see it even when I enlarge the pics, but I know I saw it when I took the pics.)

Side street. Fairly new buildings.

Street level sign board for Gotsui restaurant, where we ate the previous evening. The restaurant is upstairs, and you can see the stairs to the right.

Another sign board for Gotsui. Pictured on it is the section where we ate. They pushed the tables together for us.

At this point I have crossed Shiroyama Dori, the former river area. From here to the station, the street is lined with shops. At times, it is a pedestrian zone.

Streetscape.

English adds a bit of cachet. (There are a number of schools nearby, and many students may be studying English.) During a previous trip I was fascinated by the name and ate there. Food was very good, for a burger joint, and cooked to order.

Coincidentally, the place where my brother took me to lunch later in the day is on the second floor, right over this place.

The station comes into view.

The tracks are elevated at this point, and there is a roof over them.

Station, with plaza.

The sign identifies the train line and the station. From the part of the plaza you see, one goes down three shallow steps to get to the roofed ares, where the doors are to the left. Notice the sculpture to the right.

Beyond the station, to the left, is a several story building housing a number of shops and an Odakyu OX store, which also included a supermarket

This side of the station was something more familiar to Westerners.

A side street not far from the station.

Another shot of Nodai Dori, now heading south, away from the station.

The wall and fence look modern, but the exterior of the building has been made to look traditional, at least at a glance to a Westerner.

After breakfast, I did some laundry, mainly so I'd know how the machine worked if I had to wash something while they were away. I also read some of my book by Voegelin and worked the newspaper puzzles.

For lunch my brother took me to a place called Cozi Cozi. He had the five item special (quiche, pate, meatball, potato, salad  with a roll.) I had the borscht and piroshki. Each cost ¥1,000 (about $10).

In mid-June they had a party there to celebrate my bother's becoming a Japanese citizen.

In the evening, I lent a hand in the kitchen as my sister-in-law prepared a dinner of seafood curry (with mushrooms) and salad.

After dinner, the taxi arrived to take my brother to the airport.

Picture taken without flash. To the left are my s-i-l's brother and mother. My brother and s-i-l to the right.

June 1  On Saturday I headed out even earlier, about 4:30, and walked a bit of the promenade where the river used to be. There were a few other people out walking too, including a young couple (end of night or beginning of day?)

I like the tape to warn walkers of the overhang — instead of cutting the tree down.

I think this is an alley off the promenade. The Japanese like to have trees and shrubs in their yards.

The promenade winds between buildings.

There are small garden and playground areas.

It is suitably marked where it crosses a street.

Flowers are planted in spots along the way.

After another relaxing day of newspapers, TV, book, food shopping  and nap, dinner was a fairly simple affair, ordered in from the sushi place (but not sushi), and then it was my sister-in-law's turn to take a taxi to the airport. 

Now I was alone with the cats.