happy accident

I was on a mission to find something in particular this week at the manor, and as is usually the case, I didn't find what I embarked on, but something else, instead. These things fall into the "happy accident" category, along with fantastically blurred photos, and genius freak goofs in recipes. You know, one of those fun synchronicitous turn of events. So, what happy accident did I happen to stumble upon? A misplaced box of keepsakes and photos, now mellow with time.

me July 1973

It was the summer before I turned 17. This little Midwestern girl took off on the first big adventure of her life, spending the summer with friends in lovely, exotic Kagoshima, Japan. The city is situated across the bay from Sakurajima, an active volcano, which daily spews ash on the surrounding area. One of the things I remember most profoundly, was waking each morning to a hair-full of volcanic grit. The most violent volcanic explosion was in 1914, in which the lava flows caused the former island of Sakurajima to be connected to the Osumi peninsula.

I didn't own a camera of my own then, or I would have had a delightful photographic diary of my adventures. I did, however, stumble onto a few photos taken by my friends. In addition to a daily swim in the East China Sea, we spent a lot of time crammed into Japanese railway cars. I was even, on one memorable occasion, mistaken for the current heart-throb Olivia Hussey. That guy will never know his little error did wonders for my self-esteem. I'm still talking about it 37 years later.

me in my yakuta

In all seriousness, in addition to giving me a life-long love of all things Japanese, spending some time early on in another culture instilled a sense of acceptance, gained in few other ways, but to live in and among a society that is different from one's own. It also gave me an early appreciation for my own country and it's privileges. It's good to walk a mile in another 's shoes, or zori, as the case may be.

“Prejudices, it is well known, are most difficult to eradicate from the heart whose soil has never been loosened or fertilized by education; they grow there, firm as weeds among stones.” Charlotte Bronte

packed in a train like sushi
(don't you love the knee-socks?)

...and catching a few winks

This is a Sepia Saturday post.

Rainy Days

I don't always listen to opera. There are some days when I'm feeling a little blue, that a good dose of The Carpenters is just what the doctor ordered. The familiar sound of Karen Carpenter's natural, easygoing style is always therapeutic. It takes me back to the summer in 1973, before I turned 17, that I spent in Japan. (Okay, do the math! ) We rode bicycles every day on the roads surrounding Kagoshima, with a breathtaking view of Sakurajima in the background, singing Carpenters songs at the top of our lungs. It was surreal, just like a musical! And because of Karen's untimely death, I feel a touch of melancholy when I listen.

It's a dark and gloomy rainy day. Think I need a dose!


Rainy Days and Mondays
words and music by Paul Williams and Roger Nichols

Talkin' to myself and feelin' old
Sometimes I'd like to quit
Nothing ever seems to fit
Hangin' around
Nothing to do but frown
Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down.

What I've got they used to call the blues
Nothin' is really wrong
Feelin' like I don't belong
Walkin' around
Some kind of lonely clown
Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down.

Funny but it seems I always wind up here with you
Nice to know somebody loves me
Funny but it seems that it's the only thing to do
Run and find the one who loves me.

What I feel has come and gone before
No need to talk it out
We know what it's all about
Hangin' around nothing to do but frown
Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down.

**Rain, painting by Gustave Caillebotte