It makes us feel real beginning of autumn to see golden rice harvest. However, attacked by extraordinary summer typhoons, some of rice ears lean to the ground, looked disappointed this year. Mei-Shun sympathized with them walking along. Now it is over by half: she found them dried on 稲木=inagi or inaki, bamboo hangers constructed on rice paddies after harvest. Bundled ears are spread under sunlight for longer shelflife and better taste.
Master Mei-Shu has not felt very well. She is a little eater, rapidly lost weight last year. To our relief, no problem was found after CT and MRI examinations at a hospital. We would like her to stop here, or she might be blown away by a breeze. Her current condition brought back to Mei-Shun an awful memory of several years before. She had dysautonomia with serious dizziness when she tried to make a turn-around. Japanese dance includes much of this pattern, forced her to refrain from lessons for a whole year.
Today’s highest temperature in Ibaraki was just a bit lower than 33 degrees Celsius. Yes, September is such a month these days. Most of Mei-Shun’s generation, sometimes called 昭和人=Showa-jin, people born in our previous era, remember clearer boundaries between four seasons 2 decades before. Maybe affected by global warming, recent summers appear to reside with us until winters approach just nearby. So does next-door 百日紅=saru-suberi, serving Mei-Shun a gift in eyes.
Tora-chan jumped over cat gates again. It is a matter to be scolded, yet she stayed several steps backward this time. She has learned not to reach the second floor. Her touching attitude reminds Mei-Shun of Fuku-chan, mom-in-law’s late pug girl. Her lovely eyes and amicable character changed Mei-Shun’s feeling toward dogs with flat faces. She slept at lower landing of our stairs when mom-in-law left her alone at night, asking if she was allowed to be there by those 2 round beads.
We had 二百十日=nihyaku-toka, 210th day after 立春 on the last day of August this year. It is said to represent a time when rice harvest and typhoon landfalls often come together, a warning to farmers. And this flower called 彼岸花, higanbana in Japanese or Lycoris radiata carries three names in English including hurricane lily, red spider lily and cluster-amaryllis. Mei-Shun cannot help hoping such beauty in nature be ever resonant with peaceful repose of our lives.
And Solar September starts from today. It is a nice coincidence for the first days of modern and older calendars to meet on the same date, isn’t it? That also means we have a new moon tonight, the best timing to make your wish to a god. Mei-Shun’s is good health of course, not only for herself but for her family and friends. Health in body leads to one in mind, collaborate to create beauty and happiness. She wishes she could wish for everybody including those she does not know.
It is so big that Mei-Shun was nearly shocked at first. Shin, take her most profound gratitude please. They say your face oil serves for better luster on this gemstone. She therefore takes everyday care of it, anticipating an excellent debut on kimono — it is a 帯留, obi-dome accessory for obi sash. 久慈, kuji in Iwate Prefecture has one of the oldest amber-embracing strata in the world, Santonian, Late Cretaceous. How romantic it is to see Mother Earth memory of more than 85 million years ago!
Permission to find it on my hip. Today’s rainy and cool, makes me much sleepier than usual. It might be caused by Typhoon 10 or Lionrock. It is very bizarre one, which has wandered around for a while before approaching us. Currently going up north, it left Kanto area under charcoal gray clouds with sporadic shower. Mom’s legs are the best place in such weather. Purr, I love her.
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Thank you so much, Dr. A. She gave Mei-Shun “Yes” phone call last night, telling her no problem was found in the latest blood sample. It is said no news is good news. Mei-Shun agrees with this old saying and makes it a rule not to think about the disease after her regular visit to the hospital. Please, ma chérè mère, let her do so every time.
Oh, poor gingko nuts. Chanthu and Mindulle have blown you down on the ground, still premature. Mei-Shun wishes she could pick you up to eat, yet they say you have amygdalin, a harmful toxin. You remind her of their own gingko, whose green leaves have been torn from branches to land onto balcony floor. Both of you left home too soon, yet had no choice.
meishunkikunoe 