I've been keeping most of my money tucked into "The Pillow Book of Sei Shonagon," next to the passage that starts, "When a woman lives alone, her house should be extremely dilapidated." But now that I've figured out how to deposit it into my account at the post office it feels more secure.
I've never understood the appeal of bikes before, but I've fallen in love with my new one. It's a deep maroon color with a spacious basket, makes a low humming sound and a gentle vibration in the handlebars. I haven't biked in forever, so I headed to the park to go around in circles until I stop being wobbly - to my surprise there were stalls all over and a stage set up. I'd wondered if there'd be a festival for the holidays, but I hadn't heard or seen anything about one. I suppose I'm used to Folklife and Bumbershoot, which you see coming from a mile away. But Japan would be too practical to advertise something that comes around this time every year - it'd be like putting up big neon signs, "Hey! Spring is here!" - unnecessary, and rather tasteless.
This was about ten in the morning, it got a lot busier later.