tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67272272090314005962011-11-27T17:13:41.765-06:00Rokusan6http://www.blogger.com/profile/17853529500805370005noreply@blogger.comBlogger131100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727227209031400596.post-50350368485111812872010-07-10T18:58:00.001-05:002010-07-10T18:59:00.871-05:00

Quiz on the Fish Tree Tales Test your knowledge, your mettle, your trivia (not trivial) pursuit, your multiple choice skills. See if you cut the mustard, are up to snuff, ace in the hole, all that good stuff. Take my quiz if you dare! Good luck, and have fun!

Rokusan6http://www.blogger.com/profile/17853529500805370005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727227209031400596.post-55207303829855205022010-07-05T14:20:00.004-05:002010-07-05T15:00:55.348-05:00

I saw Emiko's work long before I ever met her. And even after I met her, it was weeks before I realized she was the woman who had drawn this amazing piece of work. When the connection was made, it was fantastic ~ I had been so enthralled by Adeste, and then I had come to really like Emiko. To have the two belong together made me very happy!And when she offered to illustrate my book, I was REALLY

Rokusan6http://www.blogger.com/profile/17853529500805370005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727227209031400596.post-8653182741435343172010-07-05T14:13:00.001-05:002010-07-05T14:59:04.250-05:00

I learned how to drive on the left, steering wheel on the right, to drive company cars to the various job sites to teach. It was on-the-job training: I was simply made to follow another teacher who would pass my particular job site, my first day with the company. She didn't slow down or consider that this was my first time driving with everything in the wrong place. I had very white knuckles...

Rokusan6http://www.blogger.com/profile/17853529500805370005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727227209031400596.post-91750819348445975892010-07-05T14:07:00.001-05:002010-07-05T14:58:33.662-05:00

In mid-August, either the 2nd or 3rd week depending on where you live, or on a solar calendar I don't understand, there is O-bon. Before I knew better, I thought of O-bon as a Halloween-like holiday. But that's silly ~ Halloween is in October. Besides, my friends in Japan are as insane about that least-favorite holiday of mine as they are in my own country. And just like here at home, on

Rokusan6http://www.blogger.com/profile/17853529500805370005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727227209031400596.post-79617601642563623802010-07-05T13:59:00.001-05:002010-07-05T14:57:55.197-05:00

Have I mentioned The Rink? You know, the place Danni owns. The place I went nearly every night for dinner & to hang out with friends, different friends every night. Sometimes Emiko, sometimes Roppongi, sometimes Misa or Misaki or Mariko. Yukie or Yuuki, Tomo or Atsu or Mochi-kun. It was always good.One day Emiko (the illustrator for Fish Tree Tales) sent me a picture of my favorite food at The

Rokusan6http://www.blogger.com/profile/17853529500805370005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727227209031400596.post-76498354968652111372010-07-05T13:49:00.002-05:002010-07-05T14:57:18.448-05:00

July 7th is the day called Tanabata in Japan. Although there are variations to the story, this is how I remember the story of Tanabata ~ the story of the two star-crossed lovers. Once upon a time, Tenkou was the god of the sky. He had a daughter, Orihime, a weaver. Every day, Orihime wove beautiful cloth for her father and the other gods, but she worked so much her father worried about her. One

Rokusan6http://www.blogger.com/profile/17853529500805370005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727227209031400596.post-56509258364697575772009-06-15T15:19:00.006-05:002010-07-16T08:35:11.966-05:00

I'll start by saying, I hate summer. Always have, always will. And in Japan, at least in the parts I lived, the summers are parTICularly unbearable ~ though you must bear them ~ because of the extremely high humidity. It was not unusual for the temperature, at, say, 7:30 a.m., to be 85+ degrees already, and the humidity over 90%. It was awful. AWFUL! One summer the stores had postcards showing a

Rokusan6http://www.blogger.com/profile/17853529500805370005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727227209031400596.post-42721249182104016462009-03-10T22:28:00.010-05:002010-07-05T12:06:23.384-05:00

I’d never thought about the advantage I sometimes have with English as my native language, until I moved to Japan to teach it. I’ve studied six foreign languages, and when I was studying, I’d often wished osmosis would occur. I’d put a dictionary of that language under my pillow at night, hoping to simply absorb all the words and grammar in my sleep. Of course, that never happened. I had to study

Rokusan6http://www.blogger.com/profile/17853529500805370005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727227209031400596.post-19136011417671247632009-03-10T22:26:00.002-05:002010-07-05T12:09:01.524-05:00

There’s a line in Nassim Taleb’s book, Fooled by Randomness, that goes like this: Rare events are always unexpected, otherwise they would not occur. I believe that is true. I believe it so much that I think he stole the idea from out of my head. I believe it because it happened ~ or rather, didn’t happen ~ in Japan. I believe it about earthquakes. Here’s my tale. One apartment I lived in had

Rokusan6http://www.blogger.com/profile/17853529500805370005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727227209031400596.post-36572046003183070252009-03-10T22:23:00.003-05:002010-07-05T12:09:39.683-05:00

Wow. That was my first impression, seeing a small group of three Italian men sitting with my friend in the McDonald’s on the second floor of the train station in Tsuchiura. “Wow.” You’ll notice the lack of an exclamation point. Not a “Wow!” More subdued, sublime, internal. More like a sigh or whisper. “wow….” My friend, “A”, who was sitting there in the McDonald’s waiting for me with these

Rokusan6http://www.blogger.com/profile/17853529500805370005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727227209031400596.post-79892071675341597312009-03-10T22:22:00.002-05:002010-07-05T12:10:08.196-05:00

July 15, 2001. A date I’ll never forget. Among other things, it was the date of my next-to-last sayonara party in Japan. There’s always a good-bye party, and since I’ve been there six times, I’ve had six sayonara parties. Yes, even when I was only there for a week on vacation, the last night there was a sayonara party. And so July 15, 2001 was one such evening. It was a lot of fun, with friends

Rokusan6http://www.blogger.com/profile/17853529500805370005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727227209031400596.post-80595223930821513652009-03-10T22:15:00.002-05:002010-07-05T12:10:38.236-05:00

One day a private student, upper intermediate level, was practicing countable and uncountable nouns. She was reviewing picture cards of some everyday nouns, when she ran into a little difficulty sorting out the difference between a slice of cake and a hunk of cheese. She asked about pie and pizza, and then chuckled nervously at the piece and slice. But she took notes and—what a trooper—hung in

Rokusan6http://www.blogger.com/profile/17853529500805370005noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6727227209031400596.post-28877116314807117262009-03-10T21:58:00.007-05:002010-07-05T12:11:28.369-05:00

Tomorrow is July 1st, and I know that in Japan, many people are about to embark on the annual eel eating feast. It’s not the same time every year or from one person to the next, but my first year in Japan we specifically went out for lunch ~ my then-boyfriend, his mom, and his cousin, and I ~ to have eel. Grilled eel. The aroma of grilled eel wafts through the air. I like the

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