October 10, 1997
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nosebleedI had a nosebleed last night. It woke me up. At first I thought it was just my nose running. The pollen count has been really high lately. I wiped my nose with my t-shirt sleeve (this is a really ratty t-shirt with many holes in it that feels comforting to sleep in) and rolled over to go back to sleep, not realizing it was blood and not snot. It still kept dripping. I wiped it again and again before I finally looked at the t-shirt sleeve and realized to my horror that I looked like something from civil war painting. Big splotches of very red blood all over. Figuring the t-shirt is already ruined, I wiped my face again - eek! Lots of blood. I sat up. I worried that I'm having some weird new reaction to the arthritis medication. Then I decided I was having a stroke. Then I was onto the Ohmigod I won't be able to go to Japan and it won't matter because I'll be dead by morning and it will take weeks for people to find me and who will feed Wilbur... The usual obsessive stuff of the dark night of the soul. Finally, it stopped. I went back to bed. There's no evidence of blood on the pillowcase but you should see the t-shirt! I decided to throw it away. After I showered this morning, I sneezed a huge clot of blood. I seem to be fine now however. speaking of books: close encounters of the parking lot kindWhen I parked my car behind the old town hall this morning, I saw Tom talking to somebody in a car parked next to his. He introduced me to John who was waiting for the last 7 minutes on the meter to run out. He wanted to use all his time because there are no refunds. The first thing Tom said about him was that he has in his family a first edition of Darwin's Origin of Species. It figures Tom would introduce me to somebody in terms of books. In 7 minutes I learned:
All that in 7 minutes! John is 90 years young. The historical society better interview him soon for the oral history collection. speaking of books: close encounters of the Starbucks kindTom couldn't join me at Starbucks this time, so I trudged in my my book and my notebook alone. I sat at the bar reading Lafcadio Hearn's Kokoro . I laughed out loud at his description of 19th century Tokyo - how it had escaped modernization. Every word was the antithesis of the way Tokyo is now. A woman sitting next to me at the bar identified herself as an archivist at the Peabody Essex Museum and said if I was enjoying Lafcadio Hearn, I might also enjoy reading Edward Sylvester Morse who wrote about Japan in 1886. Now, not everybody is interested in 19th century gaijin views of Japan, so how is it that I am sitting next to someone who is? Who knows. The Peabody Essex Museum is located in Salem, MA not far from here and is noted for its Japanese collections. I went to a Japanese folk art exhibit there last year. The archivist tells me I can probably get the Morse books at the museum. I jot down the reference for future reading. leavesAndrea has decided she wants to be called Ann now. Not only that, she has decided that Nancy should call me Jan. It helps her make order out of her world I guess. After pinano lessons, we gathered leaves of various shapes and sizes and I showed Lizzy and Ann how to make crayon rubbings of the leaves. They got really into it. The veins and patterns show up really clearly in the rubbings and it brings out the complexity of the leaves. As we sat outside doing the leaf rubbings, leaves were falling all around us like a blizzard. Every gust of wind would bring down a ton of leaves. Sometimes the wind would send them skyward before they'd fall. We watched a host of bright yellow leaves soar up into the clouds and then float down over the side yard. The fall foliage is close to peak now - a spectacular time to live in New England. Also a good time to go to Hokkaido, but why on earth am I skipping out early on New England autumn for Hokkaido autumn? |
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