Down On the Farm

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We got back home last night, safe and sound. The trip, minus a few hiccups, was about as painless as one could hope when traveling economy halfway around the world with a one year old, to a country that just experienced a giant earthquake and tsunami and is on the brink of nuclear catastrophe. Every time I was tempted to bitch about some element of our trip I quickly remembered the people here who are really suffering, and that shut me up pretty quickly.

Kanazawa, being on the west coast of Japan and far away from all the destruction, appears to be unscathed by the recent events. I was curious whether the supermarket would be sold out of a lot of things, since people everywhere have been stocking up on water, food, and other supplies. But our local supermarket was fine; they even had loads of toilet paper, which Chieko was concerned enough about to bring some back with us from the US.

The price of gas has gone up substantially, but there are no limits as to how much you can buy like some places are experiencing. I read a lot of blogs written by fellow expats, and many of them have experienced the earthquake’s figurative and literal aftershocks much more immediately than us. We are fortunate.

On our last day back on Cape Cod, we took a ride to the barn where my aunt keeps her horse. She’s been trying to get us to come down and meet her horse for a long time, but it’s inevitably cold or rainy or we are busy doing something else. Ray seems to love animals (as I guess all kids do), so I really wanted him to meet his first horse.

He seemed a bit overwhelmed at first with such a large beast, and he never got too excited about it. I, on the other hand, think horses are pretty cool. In our age of cars and planes and all manner of motorized forms of transportation, I find the idea of getting on an ANIMAL and riding it around kind of cool.

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We all took turns sitting on the horse.

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A very awkward picture. Ray is all crumpled up, and I look I have a tight grip on something other than the saddle horn.

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So that’ that — another trip in the books. It always seems like such an impossible task, dragging our crap with us to the airport and wiling away all the hours on the plane, and when it’s all said and done I wonder how it all happened.

Jet lag is always less severe than it is when we go east, but I still have a touch that’s going put to me in bed in the very near future. Good night.

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