A Fish Out of Water

Hello from Canada

Hello from Canada, where not much has changed since my last visit except the size of the TV (bigger than our bathtub in Tokyo) and the number of remote controls required to view it.

Canada, week four

My last week in Canada began with lunch for everyone at Kingsley, a Chinese restaurant in Brampton with all-day dim sum. This was a very big treat for Hideaki and me: dim sum does exist in Japan, but it's done a bit differently. Customers ordering from menus rather than choosing dishes from passing carts, which is way less fun. The one time we found a proper dim sum place in Tokyo, with carts and all, we loved it, right up until we were hit with the $80 bill.

Everything was delicious, with stronger flavours compared to Japanese dim sum, which is usually lightly flavoured and always dipped in a sauce before eating. Here, although soy sauce was available for dipping, nothing really needed it (and the short, unbroken journey from plate to mouth was a big relief for those of us not used to slippery, blunt-ended Chinese chopsticks). Above is beef rib in black bean sauce with sticky rice (which came wrapped in a lotus leaf, unlike Japanese chimaki which comes wrapped in a bamboo leaf).

The two vegetable dishes, ordered from the menu, were a welcome break. On the left is baby bok choy with garlic, and on the right are snow pea greens with garlic.

This was my favourite dish: eggplant stuffed with minced shrimp. A tad on the greasy side but so, so good.

The garlic chive dumplings were very good too, stuffed with a mixture of pork, shrimp and a restrained amount of garlic chives, compared to the usual Japanese nira manju most often made with pork only and an aggressive amount of garlic chives.

The only disappointment was that many of the dumpling style dishes came with broken wraps, as shown above. This is probably the only way that Japanese style dim sum is better, and I wonder how important it is. Are broken wraps a major flaw in authentic Chinese cooking? All in all, I vastly prefer Canadian style dim sum, Kingsley's included, to Japanese style. But which is more authentic?

We finished with two of my favourite sweets: sesame balls (which came stuffed with lotus seed paste instead of the sweet bean paste found in Japanese goma dango), and egg tarts (which for some reason I've never seen offered at any kind of Chinese restaurant in Japan).

My sister Julie with my nephew Aaron and niece Zoe.

My dad and Julie.

Me and my mom.

Back at home, I spent some quality time with the cats. Below is the newest member of the family, Toki (I can't take credit for the pretty picture, unfortunately: it was taken with my brother Greg's camera, either by him or his girlfriend Sherry):

I don't remember exactly how Toki entered our family (we have so many cat acquisition stories that it's hard to keep them straight), except that she was a kitten in need of a home and my family happened to have a cat vacancy at the time. After a trip home last year I blogged about Angus, the handsome cat who was the newest member of the family at the time. Sadly, just a few weeks after that post, I was told that Angus was hit by a car. It was devastating, but a few months later there was more news: a brand new kitten was working some kitten magic on my family, and although Angus will never be forgotten, his replacement was pretty awesome.

Toki gets along with Cocoa, the earless and not very photogenic (but really cute in person) cat shown above. Cocoa is a very easy going and and affectionate cat, who also got along really well with Angus. Toki is not quite as loving as Cocoa, but she's also not quite fully grown, and her kittenish antics are lots of fun to watch.

For more pictures of Cocoa, Angus, Toki, and other kitties I've known, see my Cat Album. 

I got to see some cats of a bigger kind when my dad took Aaron, Zoe, Hideaki and me for a trip to the Toronto Zoo. It was Hideaki's first time, and my first visit in over a decade, and as usual we only got to see a small part of it.

Also as usual, most of the animals were napping, but there was a bit of excitement when this tiger stalked and chased a chipmunk. Above it's cooling down after the hunt (the chipmunk escaped), but in full sprint it was amazingly fast.

Our trip was just a few days after we'd read in the paper about the death of one of the oldest elephants. She had died in an accident, after being knocked over by another elephant during feeding time and not being able to get back up. Watching a few of them eating peacefully it was hard to imagine the aggression that would cause such an accident.

 

Not all of the animals were in cages:

Caged and not, there were plenty of happy couples (some of them were really happy):

More zoo pictures can be found in my Zoo album.

Soon it was Canada Day, and we celebrated with a backyard get-together. We started by being underwhelmed by a Mentos soda-pop geyser:

Then were blown away by Greg's bbq ribs:

Along with burgers and other good stuff:

Then we were blown away again when Greg and his friend Jim did these fireworks:

And then I was underwhelmed again when I saw the pictures:

  

Oh well, fireworks always look better in real life.

I took a couple more trips downtown, once with Hideaki, Julie and Zoe for some rainy day shopping. Nobody got lost on this trip, and we even had time to admire Union Station. It looks really different from a tourist's perspective, especially looking up above the utilitarian signs and booths. I never noticed that each province's flag is displayed and that the names of major train stations across Canada are carved into the walls.

On the last trip downtown I returned to the Royal Ontario Museum with my friend Aspasia and checked out the old lobby, which I'd missed on my previous visit with my dad.

The stained glass windows and mosaic ceiling were just as impressive as ever, as were the totem poles that guard the stairs.

But we were there to see the Wedgewood exhibit. I'm not really a Wedgewood fan and my impression of the company was mostly as a maker of pricey wedding gifts, so I wasn't expecting to be particularly impressed. But I really enjoyed it and some of the pieces, especially the older ones, were breathtaking. I had no idea that Josiah Wedgwood was such a forward-thinking innovator, nor did I know of his relation to Darwin.

Sadly, the lighting made the exhibit hard to photograph, but here are some of the pieces I liked (and Aspasia shows her pictures here on her blog Domicile).

 

Apparently the exhibit has been extended and will be open until Spring 2010.

After the Wedgewood show we saw a bit more of the museum. I liked the section showing early plastic items, especially the plastic shoe heels in the picture above. I'd love to have a pair of these! 

I was also intrigued by this early timepiece, dating from the 16th century and featuring a rotating globe instead of a flat face. A figure of a black child (or baby faced man?) in a Roman gladiator costume holds a staff, the tip of which shows the time; meanwhile a weasel-like creature runs by his feet. What does it all mean? The black child seems majestic and dignified, which seems odd considering what Europeans were doing to Africans at the time. Or is the childish face and silly getup condescending? It is certainly nicer than the lawn jockeys that would be popular centuries later, but something seems off. And what's going on with the weasel?

More museum pictures can be seen here.

I continued to fill up on good food during my last week, including a long awaited Greek meal, Greek restaurants being a rarity in Japan. I fought with my family over yummy appetizers like the calimari above before settling down to a Greek salad, while Hideaki had his very first taste of moussaka, below.

He loved it and has requested I make it for him, pointing out that it's a lot like sheppard's pie so it really couldn't be so hard. We'll see.

I accompanied my Mom on a Costco shopping trip, which probably sounds boring to most people but for me, a Costco addict, was great. I was fascinated to see the differences between the Costco cafeteria menus in Brampton and Tokyo. The whole Costco experience tends to be extremely similar no matter where in the world you are so I've always assumed the cafeteria is the same too. But there aren't french fries at Japanese Costcos, and certainly not french fries with gravy, and definitely not poutine. Also, cheeseburgers, chicken strips, and Montreal smoked meat sandwiches. I do love the bulgogi bakes at Japanese Costcos, but I'd gladly trade them for poutine. Or at least a tub of gravy.

We'd been lusting over the summer edition of Food and Drink, the wonderful free magazine put out by the LCBO (Ontario's government controlled liquor retailer) when Sherry suddenly surprised us with a dessert made with the magazine's recipes (a big surprise, as I tend to treat food magazines as food porn rather than actually trying their recipes). Based on the Nectarine and Apricot Cookie Crumble  (page 169), but with strawberries, peaches and apricots. It was delicious, and although she thought there was too much liquid, I thought it was wonderful that way.

My mom made her famous lasagna and caesar salad based on a request by Hideaki (sloppy plating my fault). I thought it was a silly choice for summer, but the weather was so cool that it all worked out.

More classics: bacon-wrapped scallops and bacon-wrapped water chestnuts. They never went out of style as far as I'm concerned.

Another first for Hideaki: crumpets. I've never seen one in Japan, which is crazy considering how good they are. Maybe I should go into the crumpet business.

But we waited for Hideaki to leave (he went home a few days ahead of me) to eat the really good stuff. We bought live clams, mussels and lobsters from the Asian market, and while none of them were local (we live in southern Ontario, after all), they were a huge treat. Proper lobsters, with claws, are extremely rare in Japan, and although I occasionally come across mussels, I've never had a good one.

The lobsters were steamed and served in halves with garlic butter.

The mussels were steamed in wine and served with a baguette.

And my mom put the clams went into a pasta sauce, along with cherry tomatoes and pancetta. Yum!

For dessert, Sherry made strawberry shortcake with fresh local strawberries. Mine above was done with just a touch of cream as I'm not a whipped cream fan, but even if I was I wouldn't need much as our Ontario berries need no embellishment.

And suddenly I found myself on a plane home, my belly full of good food and my head full of happy memories. I can't wait for the next visit.

See more pictures from my visit here.

Tobermory

While we were at Sauble Beach we drove up the Bruce Peninsula for an afternoon of hiking, stopping first for lunch in Tobermory, at the tip of the peninsula. We ate at a pirate-themed restaurant called the Shipwreck, with a cheese factor that was outweighed by the good food (and the cute pirate waiters).

We started with fried pickles, a delicacy that was new to me but stayed true to the "anything can be good when deep-fried" rule, and then went on to fish & chips. We all chose the local whitefish and were rewarded with a very tasty fish, with a mild, slightly oily flavour and delicate flesh, unlike anything I can get in Japan (where river and sea fish are plentiful but lake fish rather rare).

Then we drove to the Bruce Peninsula National Park for a few hours of leisurely hiking. It was a beautiful park bordered by rugged cliffs and the occasional rocky beach along Georgian Bay on the east and Lake Huron on the west. There isn't much explanation needed, so here's an uninterrupted stream of pictures:

I was impressed by the washrooms, which were much nicer than the usual toilets found in parks. Large open windows let in light and offered ventilation, the wooden construction looked nice, and best of all there was no running water: instead of flushing away waste it stayed where it was and, with the help of woodchips, turned into compost. I'd love to see this type of toilet in Japan.

I slept through most of the drive back to Sauble (I had insisted on carrying a backpack full of beer and water for the hike, which made an easy hike into a tiring one) but woke up to take a picture of this very pretty field of canola flowers:

Note that some of these pictures were taken by my brother Greg and his girlfriend Sherry. See lots more by them and by me in my Sauble album at Flickr.

Sauble

 

During my trip back home this summer the whole family drove up for a four day visit to Sauble Beach, a place we've been visiting since before I was born. Located at base of the Bruce Peninsula on Lake Huron, the beach is one of the longest freshwater beaches in the world but is relatively undeveloped, and everything is still pretty much the same as when I was little, including the vintage sign at the south end of the beach. We stayed, like we usually do, at a rented cottage, and spent our time swimming, building sandcastles, and strolling along the beach.

We barbecued steaks and hot dogs and ate lots of fruits and vegetables (I ate more fruit in the lunch below than I do in an average week in Japan).

We also ate plenty of greasy local food, like beach poutine and Canadian-Chinese food (which I'd been craving for ages as it's completely different from the Chinese food in Japan). And of course there were a few trips Dairy Queen, but instead of the dipped cones I had there as a kid I went for Skor Blizzards, another craving of mine.

One of the few new things in Sauble is the Two Chicks Cafe, which offers relatively healthy food and outdoor seats that are a good place to don your shades and try to look cool.

On our last morning we saw another new thing: the the piping plover, an endangered bird that in the past few summers has been coming to the beach to breed. Two sections of the beach are designated breeding spots guarded by volunteers, who offer passersby binoculars to see the two pairs of very shy birds and their handful of chicks.

The two-hour drive back home to Brampton passes through some very pretty country on long, straight rodes that are a novelty for Hideaki and I, as rodes like this simply don't exist in compact, mountainous Japan.

Another novelty is the old barns and farmhouses and newer wind turbines that we pass by, and for some reason they fascinate me, especially the barns. Greg was nice enough to stop to let me take a few pictures by the side of the rode, but one of these days I'm going to have to get a closer look at a run-down barn.

 

Some of these pictures were taken by my brother Greg and his girlfriend Sherry. See tonnes more by them and by me in my Sauble album over at Flickr.

Canada, week three

This week's park was Jack Darling, another Mississauga waterfront park. We really liked this place and again wished we'd brought a picnic, so we could join one of the many families who'd set up for the day on the grass. A lot of these people were serious picnickers, who'd brought a backyard's worth of outdoor furniture, gas grills and hibachis, parasols and tents, and even hammocks. We really have to do that someday.

There are also sandy beaches, some of them even swimmable, although the beach above was completely taken over by Canada geese.

The park is next to Rattray Marsh, a pretty wetland that can be explored from raised wooden boardwalks. The paths continue into a forest, which was very nice and cool on this hot day, and although it was a weekend and fairly crowded we managed to see some neat stuff, including a family of weasels. OK, I didn't actually see them myself, but everyone else did and seemed to think they were neat.

The visit ended in the traditional way, with sausages and pop from a hot dog stand. Hideaki was really impressed with the stand and wished we had them in Tokyo. I guess I'm lucky to have such an easy to impress husband.

My sister had recently arrived from Texas, making this a complete family reunion. She and my Mom had stayed behind while we went to the park, and when we got back there was a feast waiting for us. It started with the amazing appetizer above, which was prosciutto-wrapped dates stuffed with blue cheese, broiled and topped with almonds and honey. This seems to be a popular recipe, judging by a search I just did, but I'd never heard of it before and was blown away. It was just amazing and very hard not to eat it all myself.

Then I put together some more traditional appetizers, and since this was Fathers' Day, these were Dad-oriented stinky canned and pickled things (and happily my Dad and I share similar tastes). Smoked oysters, smoked mussels, several kinds of sardines, pickled beets, pickled onions, dill pickles, plus crab dip and crackers. Most of this stuff can't be easily found in Japan, so I was probably even happier than Dad was.

After Fathers' Day festivities dinner was served. This was a whole salmon (head and tail cut off only because we didn't have a pan big enough for it) stuffed with spinach and baked. This is another dish I request often, and this might have been the best version ever (I think I say that every time, but this time I really mean it). The salmon came from Ocean's, the new(ish) Asian market in town, and seemed to be better than any we've bought in recent years. Great new Asian markets have popped up all over recently, making visits to the old dingy one unnecessary. Funny how things improve after I move away.

This is the salmon and its stuffing, served with new potatoes and green beans. I regretted eating all those appetizers, because I could have had three plates of this.

And more regret when dessert came: a fancy chocolate cake, apple tart, and fresh local strawberries (or what was left of them, for as soon as they hit the table hands were grabbing them).

Another night we went out for dinner, to Osso Bucco's, our local casual Italian place. Here Julie doles out the mussels for Zoe.

The mussels here are fantastic, but have a mysteriously Thai flavour. The sauce is billed as a spicy white wine cream sauce, and indeed it is, but there also seems to be coconut milk and curry. We always order these, and then everyone discusses what's in the recipe and we all vow to try making it ourselves. So far no one has, but one of these days...

Baked goat cheese, which you've all probably seen a million times but I can't get enough of it (goat cheese not being terribly popular in Japan).

I've always thought there's something wrong with people who order a soup or salad as their main dish at a nice restaurant. Why would anyone pass up delicious pastas, steaks, and other wonderful things for a boring dish that anyone can make at home? Well, something strange possessed me that night and I found myself ordering zuppa di pesce (seafood soup).

Possibly the giant servings at Osso Bucco had something to do with my odd behavior: I knew most of the main dishes would leave me stuffed beyond comfort, and I also knew that everyone else would have so much food that they'd be happy to share once I got tired of my soup. But there was no getting tired of this soup, it was fantastic. Yes, I did sample everyone else's dinners, but only to assure myself that I'd ordered the best thing on the menu. Bonus: I was able to finish it all and didn't feel like exploding afterward.

Another night it was Sherry's turn to cook dinner. She made a Korean feast of miso soup, bulgogi beef, rice, sauteed greens of some kind and garlicky broccoli. It was wonderful, and I was especially happy to eat white rice and miso soup as I was starting to miss Japanese food. But I got a shock when I tried the soup: it was spicy! It looked just like Japanese miso soup, with tofu and green onions floating around, but it turned out there were green chillies lurking at the bottom. Once I got over my surprise I realized it was delicious. Chilli goes really well with miso, and it's such a genius combination that I'll be making it myself soon.

Another day Hideaki and I hitched a ride into Toronto with my Dad. We all parted ways in the morning: Dad for an appointment, me to meet my friend Aspasia, and Hideaki to explore the city by himself. I had a great day roaming the city, doing stuff like eating the excellent pho above, lots of chatting over lots of coffee, spending my useless Canadian dollars on pretty clothes in Kensington market, and a fruitless search for a certain kind of tomato that apparently doesn't exist in Toronto.

Hideaki also had a good day, mostly, and upon looking at the hundreds of pictures he took (typical Japanese tourist, hehe) I realized he went to many of the same places we went, mostly at the same time. It's amazing we didn't bump into each other, and when I heard about his later misadventures I wished we had (or at least I wished we'd had cell phones).

His route took him from the Tourist Information office at Yonge and Dundas (where I set him up with a map and left him to it), over to Little Italy at College and Bathurst, where he had lunch, above.

Then he headed down to Kensington Market, then Chinatown, then along Queen Street West, then down to Front Street and on to the St. Lawrence Market.

And finally he ended up at Union Station. Not particularly impressive, except that it was all on foot, on one of the hottest days in June. I'd given him tokens for the TTC (Toronto Transit Commission, consisting of buses, streetcars and subways) but he hadn't used them for some reason.

Unfortunately I been told that the GO (Ontario public transit) trains to Brampton ran all day, and had supplied Hideaki with the same incorrect information. I had had a little trouble myself getting home, having just missed the last train but not knowing it until I was almost on the platforms. Funny how when I asked the teller for a one-way train ticket to Brampton she didn't tell me there were no trains. Of course there are buses, which cost the same, so it's all the same to her, but that (plus the typically Canadian lack of any kind of useful signage) led to some confusion and I barely managed to find and catch the right bus home.

And if I, as a native English speaker who actually used to live in Toronto, had trouble, I figured Hideaki would too. I hoped that he had gone home early and managed to catch a train like I told him.

But when I got home he wasn't there, and it was a suspenseful few hours until we heard from him. When he finally called I was ready to call the police to report him missing, but he was fine, having gone through nothing worse than falling victim to a couple of useless transport systems staffed by useless people.

Just like me, He'd bought a ticket to Brampton after the trains had stopped, and also not been told there were no trains. He'd also later been unable to find the (nonexistent) platform and asked a GO employee what to do, and was told to take the train to Bramalea (the stop before Brampton) and then take a Brampton Transit bus to Brampton station. A completely different (and completely asinine) answer to the same question I had asked.

So he did what he was told (having a snack of timbits and iced coffee first at his favourite place in the world, Tim Hortons), and at Bramalea tried to find a bus to take him to the Brampton GO station, but none of the maps and schedules could help. He did ask the teller at the terminal and two bus drivers, and was told by all three that there is no bus to downtown Brampton. True, and so far so good. But two of those three didn't know which combination of buses would get him there (and didn't bother to find out) and one of them did, but Hideaki couldn't understand and/or remember the instructions. I suppose he could have tried writing them down asked the driver to repeat the instructions or speak more slowly, but I'm just proud of him for overcoming his gender and asking for directions in the first place. He could also have called us at that point, but again: Y chromosome and all that.

So he just gave up and took a taxi to the downtown Brampton GO station, then called us for a ride home as planned. Little did he know that Bramalea is a 10-minute drive from our home and that he could have called us from there and saved himself the twenty-five dollar cab fare.

OK, a long, not very interesting story, but after over a decade of living in Japan I found it all shocking, as Tokyo and its suburbs have a transportation system that's a hundred times bigger and more complicated yet is far easier to navigate thanks to well-coordinated systems, sensible design, good signage, and employees who are generally very helpful and extremely knowledgeable. It's not perfect in Japan and I've gotten lost plenty of times or occasionally dealt with a nasty driver or teller, but every time I've asked a question to any kind of transportation official he's either immediately given me a clear and correct answer, or directed me to another who could do so.

I'm actually kind of glad it happened though, because Hideaki has fallen in love with Canada and I don't want him to be too impressed, lest he be disappointed later. Better to let him see the faults from the beginning.

Back at home we were keeping ourselves amused with Sorry, our favorite board game. Dad likes to keep it interesting by adding little extras to the board, but it soon became clear that Sorry wasn't going to be enough: it's made for four players but there were eight of us.

So I searched my Dad's office (which was doubling as our guest room) and found an old piece of poster board (with a chart on one side made by my Mom for a PTA meeting 30 years ago--Dad is quite the pack rat). After hours of excruciating mathematical calculations and several re-dos (I'm math-challenged) Zoe and I designed a bigger and better board with room for eight players. We all took turns decorating each player's home base, and then we gave the board a try.

Or rather, the board was put away and tried a week later, as nobody really seemed that impressed for some reason. I think it's pure genius, with extra slides that take players all the way to the other side of the board and certain places that allow you to trade positions with other players (without which the game would take longer than Monopoly to finish). When we finally got around to playing it, with clips, chopstick rests, erasers and other pieces we'd found around the house, I loved it. And although everyone else fell asleep at the table I think with a few refinements this could be a winner. I'll be contacting Parker Brothers soon, and within a year or two I'm quite sure I'll be retiring as a billionaire. Contact me if you're interested in a partnership.

Canada, week two

Another week, another park. This time we drove down to Mississauga's Lakefront Promenade Park, a collection of parks and trails running along the shores of Lake Ontario.

The area used to be dominated by the four ugly smokestacks of the Lakeview Generation Station, but as it was demolished two years ago the focus is on the parks, as well as on the lake itself. It turns out to be a pretty area, and I wondered why I'd never been before, despite going to high school (Cawthra Park) just blocks away for a year. Maybe I never ventured down to the lake because the smokestacks didn't prome much, or maybe much of the parkland just didn't exist then: I've read that many of the parks along the waterfront are relatively new.

We saw a bunch of swans, including a family with an aggressive daddy, shown charging seagulls below. But without a picnic there wasn't much to do, so once we'd walked all the paths and munched on some sausages from the requisite hot dog stand, we headed home.

This is the view from the west-facing side of our house, and once upon a time we could see clear across fields and valleys. But little by little, starting with a distant Walmart and ending with this school across the street, the view has disappeared. It's still a million times better from the view from our apartment in Tokyo though, and I saw more sunsets in my month-long visit than I normally do in a year.

Things continued to go well in the eating department. Above are some bbq shrimp done my brother Greg, who is in charge of the outdoor cooking.

Indoor eating happened more often than we would have liked (thanks to the cool and rainy weather), but we didn't mind, because my Mom served us yummy stuff like the dinner above: orzo with parsley and lemon, prosciutto-wrapped halibut, grilled fennel and carrots. The full meal (minus the carrots, meant for those who don't like fennel) was taken straight from a wonderful new cookbook of hers called The Main that features main dishes with suggested sides. It was all good, including the fennel, which I'd never had before. I wonder if I can find it in Japan?

I request Swedish meatballs every time I go home for a visit and my Mom, who is half Swedish, is usually happy to oblige. Here they are served with cranberry sauce (we were out of lingonberry sauce), new potatoes, pickled red cabbage, pickled beets, and asparagus.

Swedish food tends to bring on pangs of nostalgia in my Mom, which for some unfortunate reason can only be eased by playing Swedish folk music. Luckily we only have the one album, and a few songs (preferably including the classic "Ack Varmeland, du Skona") usually do the trick. To help keep things interesting, we read some liner notes my Dad wrote years ago when he made tapes of the album for non-record player owning family members.

For one short day I flew up to Ottawa to visit my friend Krista and meet her new baby boy. He has beautiful blue eyes and is one of the happiest, cutest, and most laid-back babies I've met. I still don't really know what to do with babies (as in, how to hold them, what to say to them, etc) but this little guy was fun just to watch.

They're about to move, so I got to say good-bye to their lovely old house and see their even lovelier new house. Well, new to them I mean: I think it's about 80 years old and comes with beautiful wood finishings, stained glass doors and windows, and a shady back garden. I would love to have a house like this someday.

Just before I left, Krista's parents came back from a visit to Thunder Bay, and among the souvenirs were these pastries. Called Persians, they're a bit like a cinnamon roll but topped with pink strawberry icing, and apparently a Thunder Bay institution.

Another day was spent with my Dad and the kids at the ROM (Royal Ontario Museum), checking out the Book of the Dead exhibit in the ancient Egypt section (it was too dark for any pictures), the gems and minerals exhibit, and of course the dinosaurs.

I could have spent hours in the Earth's Treasures gallery looking at the minerals, the vast majority of which I'd never heard of, and the adjoining gallery's Light & Stone: Gems from the Collection of Michael Scott was just stunning.

These are tourmalines, which come in way more colours than I knew about.

This bust, called Mephisto, was carved from a single ruby, set on an obsidian base, and embellished with gold.

I don't remember what these are. The colour of the stone on the left looks like amethyst, but the crystal in the middle is the wrong shape and the stones seem too sparkly (although the stones were so well lit that they all sparkled beautifully).

This looks like a cameo cut from a seashell but is actually an agate, carved to take advantage of the differently coloured layers.

This mouse is also agate, with sapphire eyes, an aquamarine sheet of ice, and gold whiskers, tail and skates.

The dinosaurs were in the new Michael Lee-Chin wing, and whatever you might think about the architecture from the outside, I think it's a nice looking space from the inside, well suited to to the old bones housed there.

The gem exhibit will be at the ROM until November this year, so don't miss it.

When it was nice enough to eat outside again, Greg set up a complicated fajita station. He grilled some steaks, chopped up some vegetables, sliced up the steaks, the fried them with the veggies.

We each got to grill our tortillas and top them with the beef filling and our choice of guacamole, four kinds of cheese, and three kinds of salsa (plus cucumber salad on the side).

And then of course there were the hot sauces. I really liked Mountain Man, but the rest were way too spicy for me.

Here's mine before wrapping, and wow was it ever good.

The Brampton Farmers' Market is held every Saturday throughout the summer, with the opening day in mid-June featuring an and all-you-can-eat pancake breakfast. Big and fluffy and topped with real maple syrup, they were delicious, but sadly the first two I got were all I could eat.

Oh yeah, there's Hideaki. He came for a two week visit during my stay, his first trip to Canada in four years.

There wasn't as much produce as I'd hoped (did I mention the crappy weather? yes? well, it had been going on long before I arrived, and caused crops to be late) but I consoled myself with a back bacon sandwich.

It started to rain so we gave up on the market as soon as we'd bought our stuff, and after finding some bargains at a church bazaar we went to the nearby Art Gallery of Peel. Part of the Peel Heritage Complex, where my Mom used to work, it was holding an exhibit called Arresting Images that featured mugshots from the Ontario Provincial Police Museum.

We stopped to pose as jailbirds in front of the gallery, and Aaron played the part particularly well. The museum adjoining the gallery is housed in the old Peel County Jail, built in 1867, and a quick tour of the museum's jail exhibit went well with the mugshot exhibit.

The collection was fascinating, with mugshots dating from the 1880s to the early 1900s. They were all proper portraits, most of them beautifully done and featuring studio backdrops. In most cases both the front and back were displayed, so we could see what details were thought to be important enough to record. This information included complicated body measurements (head width, forearm length), whether the suspect could read and write, and details about facial features ("nose: good"). It was also an interesting look at the writing of the time, with much of the script unreadable and a surprising number of spelling mistakes.

My favourite was this double mugshot, and if you look carefully at the man on the left's right hand (click here for a larger view) you'll see why.

There were just two or three women (all sporting great hats), including this lady who was apparently arrested for being suspicious.

Many suspects were from the US, but there were also a few overseas foreigners as well, including this gentleman from India who was suspected of fraud and the young suspected thief from Italy below, whose card notes he "speaks good English".

There were three mugshots of black suspects, and these two were especially poignant. The remarks on the card above say "This Nigro was Arrested on Suspicions of Commited Murder in Washington DC..." followed by "Not the Man" and "Discharged" (hopefully I misread the writing, and the spelling and grammar are not really that atrocious). The man below was also arrested on suspicion of murder. He was a horseman with the nickname of "Peewee", he couldn't read or write, and he ended up with a life sentence. His mugshot not only shows him in handcuffs, one of just a few mugshots to do so, but has him holding an actual gun.

The gallery had an old-fashioned backdrop set up along with a small collection of old timey clothes and hats, so we went ahead and took some mugshots of ourselves. Here is Zoe, very much in character, next is my brother's girlfriend Sherry, who is the least likely of all of us to ever end up in a real mugshot, then Aaron, rocking the bowler hat (not, it's not a miniature), me, a little too happy to be in a mugshot, and Hideaki, looking right at home.

The Arresting Images Exhibit is already over at the Art Gallery of Peel, but will be travelling around Ontario for the next year or so (click the link above to find a schedule). It's definitely worth a visit if it comes near you.

See more pictures from the ROM and the mugshot collection in my Museum and Gallery album, and more pictures of my visit in my Canada 2009 album.

Canada, week one

My trip to Canada last month started as it always does, with a dose of jetlag. But I don't know if it was the result of a pleasant flight (did I really just describe a 12 hour flight as "pleasant"? why yes, yes I did. thanks Air Canada and your endless stream of movies and TV shows) or the homeopathic anti-jet lag pills I took, but this time around I had the mildest jet lag ever. The worst I had to deal with was a week of early nights, spontaneous naps and very early mornings, which wasn't bad at all. And I have a feeling that even without jet lag I'd be waking up at 4:00, because that's when our backyard starts to come alive with robins and other birds announcing the coming day.

The early mornings were also a nice for walks in the nearby park, as that's the best time for picturesque fog, dewy flowers and active birds. The birds (and a local beaver) eluded my camera but the snails, which seemed to be everywhere thanks to some very wet weather, obligingly stayed still for me.

That wet weather kept us indoors more than I would have liked, but as a consolation there was lots of good food. Some of the biggest cravings I get in Japan are for simple, humble food like Jamaican hot patties or perogies, shown above.

I also miss Mexican and Tex-mex food, which although available in Tokyo is either prohibitively expensive or not very good. Luckily my brother Greg and his girlfriend Sherry are masters of Mexican cooking and whipped up several excellent meals for us. Above are condiments for quesadillas: mango salsa, sour cream, mild tomato salsa, guacamole, hot salsa and a side dish of (why not?) sauteed gai lan (a rapini-like Chinese green).

These were chicken quesadillas, cooked up on the barbeque and so, so good.

And of course no trip back home is complete without a few big breakfasts.This one was at Cora's, an lovely breakfast chain that originated in Montreal but has happily spread across Canada. Tempted by waffles and omelets, I chose brioche French toast topped with a poached egg, bacon, and mounds of fruit. Yum.

My niece Zoe and nephew Aaron flew up from  for a visit shortly after I arrived and we tried to keep them busy, starting with a trip with my Dad to Belfountain, a local conservation area with some nice and easy hiking trails. The area once belonged to a wealthy and slightly eccentric inventor, who in addition to building a house and trails also put up a fountain topped with a bell (get it?),

 a small and mysterious cave, (called Yellowstone Cave, and said to be modeled after a similar cave in Yellowstone Park, although I don't know if such a cave actually exists),

a miniature Niagara Falls,

and a suspension bridge (also shown in the previous post).

One of the trails is a loop that runs along the West Credit River and takes about an hour to complete, so we had a nice little walk.

There were flowers blooming everywhere, from the exotic yellow lady slipper orchids, below, to mundane but pretty buttercups and brassicas.

We were also lucky enough to see three salamanders, which I think were easter redbacks. Not much wildlife otherwise.

Except for the kids, of course.

See more pictures from Belfountain in my Hikes and Walks album, and all the pictures from my visit in my Canada 2009 album.

Back home Part 2

The purpose of my trips home is to see family and friends, but there are plenty of other highlights--eating food that I can't get in Japan, buying clothes and shoes that fit, browsing through bookstores (and my parent's living room) filled with books in English, and raiding my father's beer and wine fridge. But an unexpected highlight is the cats. They aren't my cats so I don't actually miss them when I'm in Japan, but when I'm back in Canada they are such a joy to have around.

They are not the cats I grew up with (Mama Kitty and Manute left for the Happy Hunting Grounds years ago), and I can't actually play with them very much, having finally learned that the only way to keep my cat allergies in check is to keep away from them. But they are plenty cute and watching them do their cat thing is nice enough.

The handsome cat above is Angus, the newest addition to the family. He was brought to the the door as a tiny kitten a few years ago, by a couple of neighborhood girls going door to door looking for someone to adopt him. My family is powerless to refuse a kitten in need of a home, so they took him in and raised him to be both the fattest and friendliest cat they've had.

Cocoa, the black cat in the picture above (he's nothing more than a blur as he was in his crazed horizontal climbing mode at the time), has been around a bit longer. He hardly has any ears, as they fell off due to frostbite after he was abandoned in the woods during a snowstorm. Wait, I've told his story before. A few times. Anyway, they are both great cats, and far more gregarious than our previous cats which makes them really easy to like. Being a person with severe allergies, living in an apartment that doesn't allow pets in a dog-loving country, it's nice to be reminded why I'm a cat person.

 

But Angus and Cocoa weren't the only cuties I encountered on my visit. The purpose of the trip was to attend a wedding, and here the niece of the bride poses with the wedding cake (the photographer is one of her nephews.

Getting married was Krista, who's been my friend since we were four. My goodness, I just realized: we met on the first day of kindergarten, and this being the start of the school year that makes us friends for exactly 30 years. Holy cow.

 

And speaking of cuties, here's me, Krista, and Johanna, another friend who came along just after that first day of school. We were inseparable back then (we were described in one of the wedding speeches as a gang) and it was great to see them both, and especially great to see Krista married. The wedding itself was lovely, held at the Canadian Museum of Nature in Ottawa (mastodon fossils and replicas of giant beavers added a certain special something to the atmosphere).

Sadly, I missed out on mingling and dancing as my back had gone out the day before. I've been bothered by a sore lower back for over a year (which I now wish I had checked out) but this was the first time I was struck by a sudden debilitating attack. It was quite terrifying, as it happened when we were staying at the bride's parents house (our folks became friends soon after we did) and I was all alone, everyone else busy with wedding preparations. I didn't do anything special to hurt it, it just suddenly went, and I was barely able to make it to bed. Where I laid, unable to move, for what seemed like all day until someone finally heard my pathetic cries for help. I was starting to freak out by that time, being a minor hypochondriac: I was sure that I'd broken my back and was imagining living the rest of my life in a wheel chair, or at least racking up outrageous hospital bills (as a non-resident I no longer have health insurance back home) during months of rehabilitation.

But I was lucky, as many of the people who had gathered for the wedding (including the bride herself) were well experienced with back pain and had plenty of sympathy and advice. Neither of which took the pain away (the meds they shared were fairly effective though), but it was so reassuring to learn that this was so common, and that everyone recovers.

Even more lucky was that there were doctors among the wedding guests, and one was at my side very quickly. My mother took him aside before he saw me and explained that I had no insurance, which he said was just fine since he wasn't licensed to practice medicine in Ontario anyway. Not terribly reassuring, but he turned out to be a great doctor: friendly and kind with the perfect gentle and assured bedside manner--something I've not seen in a single doctor (and I've seen a lot) here in Japan. He was quickly able to determine that it was likely just a pinched nerve and immediately did some manipulations that helped. It hurt like the devil but on the last stretch my back did a nearly orgasmic pop (loud enough for the whole room to hear) and although I wasn't cured, the pain reduced dramatically.

So I was lucky, and I there were only a four half days of being in pain and immobile. The other half of those days, and every day since, there was only minor pain, and now the only lasting affects are the occasional touch of discomfort and my new status as an official Old Person. Because now fully half of my conversations are about my health. And now it's happening on my blog too--sorry, I'll stop now.

 

After my back got better good stuff kept happening. I met up with some old friends I hadn't seen in a decade or two, who I assumed I'd never see again (and then Facebook came along). And my sister flew up from San Antonio for a surprise visit. It was just two days and it was very low-key, thanks to my back (there I go again), but it was great to see her. We got in some very good eating, much of which I didn't have the patience to photograph well. The osso bucco above doesn't look like much, but it was pure heaven. It was served at a Brampton restaurantcalled, funnily enough, Osso Bucco, where a family dinner has become a tradition during my visits home.

 

We went with the aforementioned Johanna and her family. That's her daughter Maggie, thoroughly enjoying her dessert.

 

The weather stayed nice and we had a few meals and happy hours outside, including this one that started with my sister's baked goat cheese, which is supposed to be a dip but I always end up eating by the spoonful.

 

The Flintstone-esque hunks of meat above are my brothers doing. The dish is called "beef bones" (and indeed that's what they are sold as at the Asian market, so I have no idea what cut this is--shank?) and is the result of hours, maybe days, of slow roasting. If you're a meat lover I don't have to tell you how good these were (and if you're not, sorry for the gratuitous picture--the rest of this post is meat-free, I promise).

 

Another craving satisfied: pie. Actually two, as it's a strawberry-rhubarb pie, and rhubarb doesn't exist in Japan. While I've never been a huge dessert person, and of the stuff that I do like 99% of it is far better in Japan than in Canada, pie is something I miss terribly. There is apple pie in Japan, or at least something that they call apple pie, but it's not the same. Dainty, with hard thin crust that requires a heavy duty knife to cut, and when you do cut it the wedge keeps its shape perfectly because the filling is dry and firm, and there is no juice, no spice, no flavour. Horrible, horriblestuff. The pie above was a regular grocery store pie, but it was immensely better than Japanese pie, with a soft flaky crust and soft gooey innards with the right sweet-tart flavour. I only regret that there were so many other good meals that I was too well-stuffed to eat the whole pie. 

 

I didn't spend as much time out of doors as I would have liked, but I did have time to admire the garden, which seems to get prettier every year. The strawberry flower above puzzled me a bit, because I've never seen one with pink blossoms, nor one that bore fruit in September. I guess ornamental hanging strawberries are special.

 

The morning glories were as glorious as I've ever seen them, with impossibly vibrant blues and purples. I don't know what colours they appear to my colour-blind father, but I hope they are as beautiful as I see them.

 

 

And then it was time to go. The cats planted themselves on or in my suitcases, and Cocoa especially seemed to want to go home with me. I know he'd love it in Japan, where black cats aren't bad luck and there's all the fish you can eat, but my family felt differently so he stayed behind. So good-bye Cocoa, good-by Angus, and good-bye to family, old friends, newlyweds, cute children, and back-fixers. See you all next year!

Back home

Having been back in Japan for days, a report of my trip home is overdue. So here goes: I spent 13 days back home in Brampton (a suburb of Toronto, Can), and it was both the best and worst visit home ever. It started out well enough, or at least as well as a 14 hour flight can be: I had a window seat with a decent view, and next to me were two handsome rock stars. Unfortunately they were sitting on the side of my bad ear I didn't really catch the name of the band, and because I don't keep track of music these days I have no idea who they were (but if anyone knows any 4-member Toronto-based band that toured in Japan for 6 weeks this summer, do let me know).

Upon arrival home I was treated to a lovely dinner outdoors, featuring steak of course (as my family has long been under the impression that there is a beef shortage in Japan). It was perfectly cooked (by my brother, the bbq master) and everything was delicious, so I didn't complain. All of the food was good, and so was the wine, and so was eating out in the backyard--next to my family, a backyard is what I miss the most in Japan.

 

The bbq (or bbqs, since my bro has several) were in use pretty much every day I was back. The next day was cedar-planked salmon with a maple-whiskey glaze, and it was far better than this picture would have you believe.

 

Feeling nostalgic, I grabbed lunch one day at Sonny's, a burger place across from my old high school. Sonny's has been around forever, and while I don't think I ever went when I was actually going to school across the road, my family used to go when I was little and I have fond memories. My high hopes were only heightened when I entered the shop and saw a man in the back cutting up potatoes for the fries. So I ordered a burger and poutine (for you non-Canadians that's french fries topped with gravy and cheese curds) and then had my hopes horribly crushed: the burger was nothing special, the fries were barely cooked, and the cheese was all wrong. And I'd forgive the burger and cheese, but as far as I'm concerned there is nothing more ghastly than a pale, limp, undercooked french fry.

Another trip down memory lane involved this pizza, ordered from Joe's Pizzeria and Spaghetti House: something my family seems to do every Friday night. And I only just found out that this is the same Joe's we used to go to when I was little (it was always either Joe's or Sonny's) to enjoy panzerotti and Brio. Brio, if you don't know, is an Italian cola that I didn't even like but was so different and exotic that I always felt compelled to drink it, and panzerotti is what most of the world (except for Ontario and, for some reason, New Jersey) calls calzone. Anyway, I highly approve of the Friday night Joe's tradition, as the pizza is good. I do prefer the Neapolitan style pizza widely available--for a pretty penny--in restaurants in Tokyo, but Japanese delivery pizza is another story and Joe's beats it hands-down.

But my trip home wasn't just about eating. There was also plenty of napping (jet lag never spares me), and I even managed to get out for a nice walk. Everything looked very lush and green in my neighborhood, which was probably due to the very cool and rainy summer--Southern Ontario experienced the wettest summer on record, I'm told.

 

Sadly my foraging plans were derailed: the strange weather prevented the raspberries, usually just coming into their second crop at that time, from developing. And the saskatoon berry bushes (they're a bit like blueberries) we'd discovered on my last visit were nothing more than a few stumps. The culprit: the local beaver population.

 

The sight of these berries perked me right up though. The pretty little purple and yellow flowers identified them as a member of the nightshade family (members include tomatoes, eggplants, and potatoes), and the berries looked like teeny little tomatoes. I ignored my father's warning about certain other, less reputable, nightshade plants and took a little tiny taste. It was sweet and intensely tomatoey, so I popped the whole thing in my mouth and gulped it down--and instantly my mouth was filled with a horrible bitter flavour. It was a long walk home, and never having actually seen deadly nightshade (aka the highly toxic belladonna) I had no way of knowing whether or not I'd just poisoned myself.

Wikipedia put my mind at ease, as the berry I ate seems to have been bittersweet, a relative of deadly nightshade that is only just mildly toxic. Nothing at all happened, which was actually a bit of a disappointment as I had read online that while the berries weren't extremely toxic, they will "clean you out at both ends". And if you suffer from a certain travel-induced condition like I do, you'll understand how that sounded like something I wanted to experience. But nope, no effect at all (I remember where they were though, and next time I'm eating three).

Surviving a near-poisoning is something to celebrate, so the family and I went to Symposion, a Greek restautant in Brampton. Living in Japan, Greek is one of the cuisines--along with West Indian--that I miss the most, and I go here nearly every visit home.

We started with saganaki, a gooey cheese dish that is set ablaze at the table and is sinfully good but requires a lot of bread to tame the copious amount of salt. It was the first time I tried it and I couldn't get its name right, and perhaps influenced by the flames, I kept calling it "nagasaki" (which amused no one but myself).

 

Next up: dolmades, or dolomades, or dolma, or whatever you want to call it: grape leaves stuffed with meat, served in a rich lemony sauce.

 

My brother, who has only recently discovered seafood, ordered this giant platter of shrimp, scallops and calamari. And was kind enough to share.

 

I had roasted lamb shank, and was so excited to see it that I couldn't even keep my camera steady (sorry about the blur). It was perfect, and made me wish that lamb was more popular in Japan.

Another fine meal was at Village of India, which serves a bargain-priced vegetarian Indian buffet. I only discovered this place on my last visit (thanks to a taxi driver's recommendation) but it is already a favourite. 

 

I wish I could tell you what all that stuff on my plate is, but I don't know. The only drawback to the place is that none of the food is labeled, but then again most of the customers seem to know what everything is so I guess it's not really necessary.

 

The place also sells Indian sweets to go, but they are all a bit too mysterious for me so I made do with a pinch of pan masala (candied fennel seeds).

 

The good eating continued on to Owl of Minerva, a Korean restaurant in North York. We were there to eat their famous pork bone soup but began with pajeon, a savoury pancake filled with long onion and squid (it's called chijimi in Japanese, where it is considered a Korean form of okonomiyaki).  

We also had deep-fried pork which was good and would have been amazing, except for the too-sweet sauce. Still, the combination of my favourite food themes--pork and deep frying--can never really be bad. The banchan (kimchi and other little dishes that are served free) were a treat, since they don't exist in Japan: you actually have to pay for them.

 

Next was dolsot bibimbap (called ishiyaki bibimba in Japan, where it is hugely popular), which is a searing hot stone bowl filled with rice and various toppings. Mashed up with a spoon, flavoured with kochujang (a hot and sweet chili paste) it is delicious, and is even better when left alone to sear for a while in hot bowl, in order to let the rice get crispy. 

 

And the main event: gamjatang (pork bone soup). I had heard all about how wonderful it was, and it didn't disappoint. The pork was tender enough to fall off the bone with little work, and the broth was rich, hearty, perfectly spiced, and wonderfully porky. Gamjatang is new to me (Korean restaurants in Japan focus on beef) but is now a favourite. I doubt if I can find pork bones in Japan so I won't be trying recreate it myself, but if anybody in Tokyo knows of a place that serves this, please leave a comment. Because I'm not due for another visit home until next year, and I don't think I can wait that long.

Next up, the last half of my visit. For now, you can check out a few more pictures from the trip in my Summer 2008 album.

Eyes, teeth, and ankles

My trip back home to Canada was not just about eating-- I actually had a few other reasons for going. One of them was LASIK, a procedure that is not yet very popular here in Japan. It does exist and I could easily have done it here, but with the language barrier and my general dislike for the Japanese medical system I decided that Canada was the place to do it (plus it's quite a bit cheaper there).

The surgery was done exactly one month ago. I was terribly nervous but the clinic was efficient and comfortable and everything went very smoothly. Everything, that is, except for meeting a disgruntled patient as I was waiting outside the operating room. We struck up a conversation and it turned out he had already had his surgery, which naturally led me to ask how it had gone. "Great, except that I can't see at night" was his reply, and then the nurse called me in. The sedative they had given me earlier had been working fine up to that point, but now I was ready to make a run for it. Somehow I didn't, and a few minutes later it was all over.

There was never any pain, although few hours of extreme sensitivity to light made the ride home pretty uncomfortable and my eyes were pretty dry. I was supposed to rest in a dark room and not read or watch TV for the rest of the day and had anticipated being bored, but I mostly just slept. And when I woke up the next day I was fine.

My vision is now 20-20, and yes, I can see in the dark. Strangely, being able to see hasn't had the big, dramatic impact I had expected, perhaps since I always wore contacts anyway. It's not like when I first got my glasses (back when I was 12 or so) and spent the ride home from the optometrists with my face glued to the car window, amazed at how beautiful everything was. I remember how thrilled I was to be able to see the individual leaves on all the trees. But LASIK was not like that, and the only time I really notice is when I reach for my glasses in the morning and realize they're not there.

But there have been other changes, one of which was completely unanticipated:

• My eyes are very dry, and may continue to be so for several more months, but the problem is nothing that eyedrops can't fix and is actually not as bad as the dry eyes I often had with contacts.
• My morning and evening routines are a lot quicker without having to fiddle with my contact lenses.
• Traveling and camping are so much easier since I don't have to lug around all my gear.
• I no longer have the scary red eyes I frequently got from wearing my contacts for too long.
• There is way less gunk in the corners of my eyes.
• I look better, with the dark circles under my eyes less noticeable. Maybe because I'm not prodding my eyes twice a day putting in and taking out my contacts?
• My allergies have disappeared. I have no idea how to explain it, and extensive searches on the internet haven't helped. But I swear to god it's true. I have hayfever, year-round allergies to dust and severe allergies to cats-- always a problem when I go home because my family has two of them. This visit I was just as allergic as always, until the day I came back from my surgery. Almost as soon as I lay down, Coco the cat (who has a magical sick people detector) came and purred on me for a while, and I was too tired to resist. Afterwords, the usual allergy attack didn't come-- not so much as a sniffle. And since then I haven't sneezed or sniffled at all, despite coming down with a cold and living in the same dusty conditions as before. I suppose it has something to do with the dryness-- maybe my body is directing all its water to my eyes? Whatever the reason, I hope to god it lasts.

So I came back with better eyes, but my teeth didn't fare that well: during a tooth cleaning (I always get that done back home as I'm too scared to see a Japanese dentist) two small cavities were discovered. No big deal, you may think, but it was for me as these were my first two cavities, ever. I've always been rather proud of my good teeth, you see. Perhaps a bit smug, even. Especially here in Japan, where people tend not to have very good teeth (and revealing my non-cavity status to people here can induce feelings of awe and envy, which is fun). Plus, I'm deathly afraid of dentists, and expected having my cavities filled to be a traumatic and painful business.

It wasn't, thanks to laughing gas. My cavities were small enough that a needle was not necessary, so all I had to do was breath in a steady dose of nitrous oxide and I was fine, floating around on a gentle, comfy cloud and enjoying some funky acoustic hallucinations. I could still feel what was going on in my mouth, only it didn't hurt. And of course I felt great. I'm now a big fan of laughing gas and quite looking forward to my next cavity.

The LASIK and tooth stuff were nice little bonuses on this trip, but my main reason for going home was to see my mother. A mole just above her inner ankle had been diagnosed as melanoma early this year, and various complications prevented further tests and surgeries until May. She had a lymph node biopsy, a large chunk of her leg taken out, and a skin graft, and although I wanted to go home at that time I was asked not to (there was talk about me stressing her out or something-- obviously the endless tests and treatments made her a bit deranged). So by the time I came home Mom had had a few weeks to recover, and her results were back: the cancer hadn't spread.

When I arrived she had a nurse coming in every day to change the dressings and was in bed, only getting up for bathroom or hospital visits, with the help of a walker. And by the time I left, one month later, she was up and walking around normally, with the nurse coming every other day. She definitely over-exerted herself with all her kids and grandkids visiting, but it was great to see her up, recovering, and cancer-free. So although this visit back was rather quiet for me, with less shopping and going out than usual, it was my best visit back yet.

I'm trying to be more careful about the sun, but really there's not much more I can do as I've already picked up some healthy habits here in Japan. For a few years now I haven't been going out in the daytime without sunglasses and a hat, year-round. I haven't gotten to the point where I'm carrying a parasol and wearing gloves and arm protectors like Japanese women, but that may happen. I still love the beach but am trying to go less often (although my not going to Okinawa or other sunny places this year is more about economics than anything else). And if one of my many moles starts to look funny, I'm going straight to the doctor.

I hope to stay healthy for a long time, and wish the same for my Mom, the rest of my family, and all of you.