A somewhat discomforting start to the year has continued today, but that doesn’t really matter because I’m just making up excuses to write so I can post this picture.
I captured this shot near Tachikawa‘s Kotobukiya Stadium as the local residents prepare for their d dondoyaki festival to build huge bonfires made from New Year decorations and pray for good fortune for the rest of the year.
These festivals are held by thousands of neighborhoods across the country, but I have also viewed them as something akin to the chilling denouement of the 1973 British horror flick, The Wicker Man. My perspective is totally incorrect, of course, but I’ve never quite shaken this perception.
I took these shots while on a ride this morning. It was a crisp, clear, and delightfully sunny day, but bitterly cold. The chill pierced even my bar mitts and played havoc with my arthritic hands. The cold effectively immobilized by hands until I could start riding into the sun and thaw a little.
Meetings will occupy the rest of the day. I help in the operations of the housing estate where I live, which is effectively a retirement village. Those aged 75 or older account for 75% of the occupants of the 210 households. I’m not too far behind that demographic, but still one of the younger inhabitants. It’s a pretty common scene in Japan now, and a compelling first-hand look at the ultra-aging society.
To be honest, I’m sick of it. I agreed to devote a day a week to the cause, but it has gone far beyond that. I would accept even that commitment, but it has become a bit too much. I have been trying to establish a new career, go to school and deal with unexpected health problems related to myself and Dino, our rosy faced lovebird, as well as have some time to enjoy life in-between. It has been almost daily involvement and becoming a bitter one now.
A resident reported a leak in a shared zone literally an hour before the country shut down for the New Year holiday. We strived fiercely to address the issue, but it remains unrepaired and unrelenting now, almost two weeks later, and is unlikely to get fixed within this month. In the meantime, the leaking water is freezing and the ice posing a threat to our many elderly residents. All the while the initial reporter is making daily complaints, at one time in which they revealed that they had known about the leak for weeks before letting anybody know: time in which it would have been simple to call in someone and get the problem fixed in a day. We had been forced to accept punishing terms to get repairs over the New Year, when offered by emergency services, so remain obliged to wait for them to deal with the issue–and they still haven’t done it–when it could have been easily handled in normal business hours.
Still, before I get too mad at my residents, who I deeply respect and hold dear to my heart nearly all of the time, I need to remind myself of the efforts they put in. A group holds a seasonal tea party and it was a delight to have a cuppa and some sweets while getting to know the neighbors during the afternoon yesterday. Sadly, I’d promised to attend the party while miffing my schedule, missing a rare, shared day off with Mrs. Kangaeroo, who went out and enjoyed herself away from the estate.
