Strawberry Picking: Our Girls Are "Green"

Miranda seems to take after Brian's green-ness. We went strawberry picking on President's Day. Miranda snapped the strawberries (I love that sound) off the vines one after the other for the full 30 minutes of strawberry picking.

Then she popped them into her mouth--stems and all. Brian noticed and appreciated her green-ness. "No waste that way..." he marveled with pride.

The dietitian in me was just hoping the stems counted as a green vegetable, since she's not too fond of the typical varieties. But she does love her fruit.

Sydney might also be considered "green." But only because she picked the green strawberries. And the fact that she didn't pick (or eat) more than 5 strawberries in the whole 30 minutes. She likes them usually, but she'd just eaten a whole package of them two days before this outing. So I guess we shouldn't be surprised.

"Can I go run around outside, please?!!"

Hida Takayama

The last weekend in January, we headed back into the mountains--this time with our friends the Millers--to find some more snow and Japanese culture in the town of Hida Takayama. (Takayama means "tall mountain" and Hida distinguishes it from other Takayamas). It's known as "little Kyoto" for its quaint history and because its carpenters were thought to have constructed many buildings in Kyoto, including the Imperial Palace and many temples. No, they were not made of snow like this one pictured. (If they were, they couldn't have burnt down 10 times each, like most structures in Japan have.)

Takayama is also known for its local foods, including sansai (mountain vegetables), wasakana (river fish), Hida beef, Hida beer, and sake. After our six-hour, three-train journey, Sydney finally fell asleep in the stroller as we walked from our hotel to Suzuya, a popular restaurant recommended by my guidebook. After waking her up (Brian tried two other attempts before this, the most extreme one), we enjoyed some local specialties: Hida beer, Hida beef, and Hoba miso (fermented soybean paste grilled on a magnolia leaf on top of a unique hibachi).

Some of us enjoyed the dinner more than others. Actually, some downright needed to be contained at one point.

After dinner, again we enjoyed a very relaxing Japanese hot soak at our hotel before bed (thankfully not a futon). And the next morning we set out to see Hida No Sato, an open air museum displaying massive farmhouses with their steep, thatched roofs, which look like praying hands ("gassho-zukuri"). The houses were moved in 1971 from the nearby Shirakawa-go region to recreate a folk village, dating from the 1600-1800's. They were originally built to support large volumes of snow and ice on the roofs.

Sydney, always angling for junkfood, is likely wondering why an icicle couldn't taste more like a popsicle. But she couldn't say so since her lips were stuck to it. Alas, it was only for a moment.


While Sydney plays in the snow, Miranda, Brian and I warm ourselves by the fire. I myself wouldn't have minded a marshmallow or two, but there was no time for that...we had only until 15:30 before we were to board the train home. So, we settled for a quick can of hot cocoa.

After all, we were taken off guard--and chilled to the bone--by the 15-minute blizzard that suddenly blurred its way through the village. It was fun to see the snow in action, but we were all relieved it was short-lived.

Blue skies broke and we went to the center of town to enjoy Nijuyokka-ichi, a fair held on the 24th day of January every year since 1872. It flurried on and off while we mostly ate our way down this main street. But there were also handmade crafts such as “Shouke“ (bamboo maunds), “Amigasa”(braided hats), and “Oke”(wooden pails), which are made by nearby farmers. (This photo shows grilled rice patties on a stick that were smothered with a miso/sesame paste. Yum!)


We veered off the festival street to see some interesting, typical homes and shops. The quaint streets have tiny canals running under the front of the buildings for snow and ice drainage into the river.







A winter trip to Takayama wouldn't be complete with a visit to a sake brewery, which are only open mid-January through February for tours...or should I say tastes for English-speakers, since we weren't able to glean much else from the Japanese tour. But taste is what's important anyway. The large hanging ball above the entrance is called a sugidama and it is made of needles from the Japanese cedar. It is a symbol of sake breweries, since in years past, sake was ready in the early spring, after brewing all winter. The needles start out green and slowly turn to brown, signifying the slow maturation of sake. Thus, when the needles are brown, the sake is ready to drink.

And when the sake is drunk, it is time to go. Well, it was for us at least. It was a very unique charming town that we could've used another day to explore. But I'm not sure we could've weathered the cold any longer anyway.

A Traditional Japanese New Year Celebration

This January we finally enjoyed our first traditional Japanese New Year Celebration, complete with a taiko drum performance and mochi pounding.

It was a cultural event hosted by a local chapter of Ikebana International, of which many Americans are members. The setting was very historic--the private residence of a Buddhist monk on the grounds of the Great Daihatsu (the Great Budda). Anyone who comes to visit us has visted the Great Budda. Here Sydney and her friend Zelig hold what might as well be the "golden tickets" to the Great Budda, as we visit for maybe the seventh time in 2 1/2 short years.

This impressive private home accomodated more than 150 guests. We all sat (on comfortable stools) in the large, open tatami room, which had large glass doors to the lawn and garden area, where the taiko drummers performed.

It was somewhat difficult to see from the back (where we like to sit with our two antsy children), so Sydney, Zelig and several other kids were ushered by the hostess up front for a better view.

Sydney really enjoyed the drum performance...until the New Year dragon emerged, at which point she retreated away from the open windows. Shortly after, she called out to Zelig, who had his legs dangling out the window, fearing he might fall down to the dragon.

Then it was time for the mochi pounding, a traditional Japanese New Year ritual, where friends and family take turns with the kure (hammer) to pound cooked sticky rice until it turns into mochi. At New Year's, it is usually shaped into a chewy, sweet ball with a nutty sweet soybean powder coating called kinako. Here our friends Nicole and Kathleen give it a go.

After the ceremonies, Brian contained the girls while I gathered our Japanese bento box lunches and mikan. It's late, so Miranda is so hungry she chews on her hands while Sydney is happy with her blanket.

After a full day, we made our way back to Yokosuka by train--with our trash still in hand. Believe it or not, this is a typical Japanese experience in and of itself.

Move Over Bacon...

Here comes the GW.

It's been a long-awaited arrival after many local Japanese protests and an onboard fire in May, but the USS George Washington arrived safely in Yokosuka today, replacing the USS Kitty Hawk.

Here I watched briefly from base this morning as it slipped through the haze and into the harbor. The sailors were almost home and their families were lining up for a ceremony and celebration. I steered clear of that area, but throughout the day around base it was touching to see the telltale signs of many Navy families reunited: crisp uniforms and stuffed sea bags, hand-holding, and the more obvious "welcome home" balloons and banners. It made me pause to appreciate the challenges of all those spouses setting up a home alone and having to escort his/her spouse off the ship to that new home today.

But still I have to wonder how thousands of other military families ever assimilated without the new base signage, welcome community picnics, and special NEX sales marking our arrival to CFAY. Just an observation. Makes me feel more like mashed potatoes than bacon, I guess, if I read too much into it.