My trivial thinking

It’s always hard to coordinate everyone’s schedules, and even though today is a weekday, it was probably our last chance to have lunch together.   We went to a Japanese restaurant to celebrate my daughters’ birthdays and my elder daughter’s wedding. It may have been the last family lunch we’ll have for a while.     The hospitality at the restaurant was excellent.

Katsura Imperial Villa is strictly preserved by the Imperial Household Agency, so we need the permission and have to wait for a long time. I applied at the beginning of February. I visited there with my wife yesterday.  the Katsura River riverside road around the Entrance   Katsura Imperial Villa is located at the south end of Kyoto City, alongside of the Katsura River. It was going to rain, but we didn't need our umbrellas when we arrived there. We entered the gate and showed our permit and drivers licenses. More than 30 visitors, including some foreigners, came at that time. A curator who was a middle-aged man guided and gave us an explanation with Kansai accent and comical talk.   Main Gate from the inside  At the Miyukimon, it suddenly began to rain hard. The curator comforted us that we were lucky because the moss looked most beautifully on the rainy day.  

We don’t really have a habit of hugging in Japan. I’ve never hugged my wife as a routine, and I can’t even remember walking with my arm around her waist. Mostly because it just makes walking difficult. A couple of years ago, I said something to my wife that upset my elder daughter, and she didn’t speak to me for about a week. One night, she came home late and drunk, and suddenly hugged me while crying. She said, “Dad, I love you, I love you… I’m sorry for rebelling against you… Please wash the dishes yourself. I feel sorry for Mom…” I was a little embarrassed. But ever since then, I’ve washed the dishes after dinner. We had gone through some difficult years since she was a teenager, and she lived on her own for a while. I remember going to see a circus with her back then and talking about life. After she moved back home, I received a letter from her on my birthday a few years ago. In it, she apologized for how she had behaved when she was younger. I’ve carried that letter in my wor...

I went to Wakayama City for business this morning. After finishing my work, I bought a boxed lunch at a convenience store and visited Wakayama Castle again. The weather was beautiful—cool in the shade but hot under the sun.  The Castle Tower and Ohashi Roka  Momijidani Garden inside the castle grounds was lovely. This is the Ohashi Roka, the covered bridge passage. You can go inside for free, but the floor is a bit slippery, so walking through it feels a little uneasy. inside the Ohashi Roka The Ohashi Roka leads to Engyokaku, the floating pavilion on the pond. It must be even more beautiful in autumn when the leaves change color.   Engyokaku Koshoan  At Engyokaku, you can enjoy a cup of Japanese tea even if you don’t know the formal tea ceremony manners.  

The author of this book is Bernhard Schlink, and the original was written in German. I read it in English. One day in post‑war Germany, Michael, a fifteen‑year‑old boy, suddenly becomes ill on his way home. A beautiful woman named Hanna, thirty‑five and living alone, helps him. After he recovers from hepatitis, he visits her apartment to thank her. From there, they become lovers. Reading aloud to Hanna soon becomes a strange but intimate part of their relationship. Then, without warning, she disappears. A few years later, Michael sees her again by chance. Now a law student, he attends a trial of former Nazis charged with war crimes—and Hanna is one of the defendants. She had served in the Waffen‑SS as a guard at a concentration camp. During the trial, she is treated as the person chiefly responsible for a horrific incident, and she reluctantly accepts this role. She does so because she wants to hide her secret. To protect it, she receives a life sentence. For Hanna, preserving her dig...

Toru Hashimoto, the Mayor of Osaka and co‑leader of the Japan Restoration Party, remarked that the so‑called “comfort women” were necessary for Japanese soldiers during World War II. When I heard his comment, I felt ashamed as a Japanese citizen. He completely fails to grasp the essence of the issue.

Most of the wild ducks in the pond have already migrated north. Only a few people were out jogging or walking early in the morning, so Tonbo‑ike Park was very quiet. I was able to enjoy listening to the birds singing.   Hoojiro / Meadow Bunting   On my way back to the parking lot, I spotted a large, beautiful bird and followed it. But just as I pointed my camera at it, it disappeared.