Seascape with buzzard

I went for a bike ride along the seashore and this buzzard was enlivening an already spectacular seascape. In Japanese, buzzards say "pee-hyoro-hyoro-hyoro".

Sundry blossoms

If you're not particularly concerned about the blossoms of the weeping plum, I'm afraid this post will hold little interest for you.








For those who have grown tired of plum blossom, here are some apricot.

Goodbye Jack

C'mon boy, let's go.

Lowdown
Feeling pretty bad
Feeling like I lost the best friend
That I ever had

Jack is dead. Jack was running down the road and got hit by a kei-truck that didn't stop. I wasn't there and don't know the details, but I have a feeling my anger would be uncontrollable if I did.

Jack was a great companion and I feel his loss intensely.

Jack!

Kingfisher

Recently I spotted a kingfisher fishing in our local river, the Konogawa. It was the biggest kingfisher I've ever seen.



And as an added bonus, here's a regular visitor to the blueberries. I don't know what kind of bird he is, but he's very pretty and quite assiduous in fertilizing the ground under the blueberries.

Various scenes

I got an iPhone a few months ago, and I'm quite impressed with the photos it takes. Here are a few recent ones.

From our balcony. There was some precipitation at sunset.

The temple thingie. November storms tore the doors off and broke the glass,
but the day after I reported the tragedy to the village headman, they were as new again.

Not a bad spot for a house.

The weather has been quite weird of late, with some spectacular skies.
This lopped-off double rainbow with triangular sunbeam was one of the
more spectacular phenomena. It lasted for about 5 minutes and was hard to ignore.

Mikan trees, lakes, sea, islands

What have we here? African dancing girls!
Christmas evening at the African night was a blast.

Crime scene

I went for a walk at lunchtime the other day up the valley where a French fellow and his wife are building a new house (very international we are here), when I came upon this grisly scene.

It's a tanuki with a smallish hole in its rump (it probably felt like a largish hole to the tanuki in question).


The question is, whodunnit? There are certainly hunters around here because I've seen them with their guns, but I don't think they'd shoot a tanuki, nor would they leave it lying dead on a pavement. Would a boar be able to gore a tanuki, and would it have reason to do that? The corpse was gone the following day.

Round pond resurgens

In April last year, I took out my round pond and replaced it with a bath. Having pondered (ha!) where to put it next, I decided that the very place where it has sat since April would be fairly ideal.

So I dug a hole with a remarkably perfect shape for the steel pot, and rolled it in.

A well-dug hole.
Note the long-handled, small-headed spade which I cobbled together myself.

Now I'll just have to avoid falling into it in the dark.

Two ponds now. Boy will the frogs be happy!

New nata

A while back, I wrote about my ebinata and kukuri, offering a wealth of false information.

Of the ebinata, I wrote "I've used it savagely, especially when splitting very big culms of bamboo. This involves driving the tool through inch-thick material by hammering alternately on the spine of the blade and on the tang with another stout piece of bamboo. The tool is not harmed in the least by this rough usage."

Five years of this rough usage have unfortunately wrecked the connection between the blade and the handle, and only some very ingenious work will be able to replace it. However, it did serve magnificently during that time.

Of the kukuri, I wrote "The whole thing, sheath included, is a beautiful piece of workmanship, and the two-tone handle is especially attractive. However, a 12" blade is imposing and heavy, something I began to consider carefully only after I had ordered it. It does chop well, although not vastly better than the ebinata. The handle however fits nicely in the hand".

In fact, it isn't a particularly good piece of workmanship. The steel is rather soft and it doesn't hold an edge very well. Also, in an unplanned confrontation between the kukuri and a concrete wall, the kukuri lost – part of the edge tore and folded over, and a chunk of the 'hardwood' handle chipped off. (I was splitting bamboo against a wall, and the bamboo gave way suddenly.) The handle is not ergonomic either. It's far too thick where the thumb and forefinger grip it.

To replace the ebinata, I got a straight nata. Oh, but this thing is a beauty. Look at the curves on it! It has chopping written all over it.


It's also remarkably compact, and in its case, it fits snugly against the body. The steel is far superior to that of the kukuri, and the handle is a much better shape.

I think I'll try to refrain from using this one as a hammer, and see if it lasts longer than the ebinata.

Second water butt

I originally built my shed so that I could have another roof for collecting rainwater. But having no tank to put the water in, the water simply ran off without purpose. Now I have my 200 l lorry tank however, things all come together rather nicely.

Gutter on

Hole drilled and fitting attached

Attached with a hose

Now when it's time to take the water tank to the ditch in the summer for some pumpin' action, it's just a matter of pulling the hose off the gutter and sealing the fitting with the little screw cap that came with it.

But there's a persistent little voice in my head that keeps saying "Another 400 l would be nice...". We'll have to see about that.

Summer veg in autumn

This is the summer veg that we were supposed to be getting from July and August that failed to appear due to lack of water. It feels a bit odd to be eating our first homegrown peppers in November. The mini plum tomatoes are very sweet.

Ehime EV art

I can't help myself. The photos of the Ehime EV just inspire me to get out my crayons and make pretty pictures.

Ehime Electric Vehicle Project

On Friday, I put on my suit and went to the first meeting of the Ehime EV Promotion Council, of which I'm now a member. The goal of this council is to promote the Ehime EV Project for establishing an electric vehicle business in Ehime.

This is a very grassroots sort of endeavour, represented by the concept of 'Small Hundreds' put forward by Yoshihisa Murasawa of the University of Tokyo. 'Small Hundreds' stands in opposition to the 'Big Three' of U.S. car making, and instead of a few large corporations slowly moving to introduce EVs, hundreds of small organizations will convert the existing vehicle fleet to electric use.

Yoshihisa Murasawa checks out the interior

And since this is an Ehime-based project where fishing and agriculture are major industries, it's not limited to cars. The goal is to electrify fishing boats and agricultural equipment too.

Kazunobu Saito of Ehime University has already converted a small, high-performance electric car from a Daihatsu petrol two-seater.

Murasaw-sensei and Saito-sensei talk to the local media

This is a very positive development. When Matsuyama started promoting the Saka no Ue no Kumo project, I thought at the time it would have been better to have begun some sort of sustainability-related project based on resources available in Ehime. I'm glad that something of the sort is now under way.

These scooters are also electric. See = Want

Another conversion job being recharged

Festival

It was festival time again, so we all got out our koikuchi pyjama suits and did the whole crazy thing of drinking from 6 am and hauling heavy wooden god-boxes around the neighbourhood again.

Here are some choice scenes of the occasion.

The first day, Saturday, was rainy, and it was touch and go whether the evening's trundlings would go ahead or not. However, the local god ensured that the rain lifted so that we could celebrate his generally quiet presence.

Less cooperative was the generator on our danjiri. It kept huffing and puffing and cutting out, and it smelled very petrolly. All the chaps who know about these things (only one in fact), gathered round and got the backs of their happi coats soaking wet from squatting down. (The Wikipedia article says "It is believed that spirits or gods reside in the danjiri." However, I checked, and all that resides in our danjiri is lots of empty Asahi Super Dry cans.)

When the generator got sorted out, it was time to roll off into the sunset.


Things quickly got fairly raucous. People from all around wheeled their danjiri to the local Fuji supermarket car-park where we pushed the wagons up and down, lifted them up and waved them in the air, and feigned concern when a rather fat and drunken youth from another district fell off one. What's nice about the festival is that all sorts of charming people who you don't normally see around much get all chummy with you.



Another day, and more of the same. Rendezvous at the shrine at 6 am for sake from a big barrel. They have devils in red-face masks so that those who tend to colour -up after a single drink won't feel abashed. (Note to beginning students of Japanese culture: don't take my word for this.)

After light refreshments at the shrine, there was more trundling. The sun came up over Takanawa-san and it instantly got really hot.

However, the young people didn't seem to mind. They blew their whistles, waved their batons, and shrieked "Yoi-sa!" fit to burst.


On the last day, Monday, we did the omikoshi thing. The children had theirs, and we had ours. Ours is a lot heavier. We hoicked the boxes hither and thither, stopping at various houses to sup and enjoy more Asahi Super Dry.

Typically, the two omikoshi are taken to newly built homes in the village. It's alarming enough having heavy wooden things being moved about right next to your new windows and siding and all by people who are not exactly sober. But then after some slight debate, somebody called out, "Sasun-zo!". This roughly translates as "Stick 'em up", and it involves raising up both the omikoshi at 45 degrees and crossing the poles in the air. Bearing in mind that these boxes weigh a ton anyway and just carrying them around is hard enough, you can picture for yourself the amount of desperate staggering and grunting that goes on to get them up in the air. And this is in somebody's front yard. The new householders looked on with barely suppressed horror. (I wasn't able to help this time because I had to take a photo...)

"Sasun-zo!"

After terrorizing the new people, it was time for a rest. Adults and children alike couldn't resist a bit of a splash in the double drains.

After all this excitement, we took apart all the various heavy appurtenances for moving spirits about, stowed them away until next year, and adjourned to the local meeting house for an entirely unnecessary meal and more beer.

I'm already looking forward to next year.