Flat Stanley at the Yamato Flea Market

Judy, Sheryl, and Valerie arrived in Japan this past summer. They wanted to experience a shrine sale so Flat Stanley and I set our alarm for 5:45 am before we went to bed Friday night. We were on the road by 6:35 am Saturday, bound for the flea market at the Yamato train station. I drove and they paid the tolls, about $11 each way.

"I'm freezing, Aunt Kathy. Will you buy me this jacket and pants?"
"Sorry, Stanley, but I think that outfit is too small for you. Why don't you warm yourself up by running to the other end of the flea market and back? Keep an eye out for flat-bottomed wooden bowls while you're at it."


"I didn't see any flat-bottomed bowls, Aunt Kathy, but I did find these amazing giant albino carrots."
"Ha ha, Stanley. I think those might be Daikon radishes but don't quote me on that."
"Okay. I know how much you hate to be wrong."

"Hello Kitty! What's she doing in Japan?"
"She was born here, silly. Lots of American children are surprised to learn that Sanrio is a Japanese company. Hello Kitty has been making children all around the world smile for at least 40 years."
"Gosh, it's a small world after all"
"Maybe I ought to start calling you Flat Walt."

"Front row seats at the free concert next to the train station! You rock, Aunt Kathy! That boy sure has a great voice."
"I wonder where I can get a tie like that."

"Thanks for buying me this bun shaped like a bear."
"Just don't tell your Aunt Suzi I let you play with your food or she'll want to do the same when she visits and that would be excruciatingly embarrassing."
"Do you think there's a 'surprise' inside the bun?"
"Probably. That's why we're going to 'let' Uncle Mike take the first bite."

"Oh, it's custard. That looks really yummy . . . hey, wait Uncle Mike . . . let me have a bi-. . .No fair! He ate the whole thing."

"Aunt Kathy, I'm sorry I was too cold to wait for the man selling Peko-chan cups to come back to his stall so you could buy some."
"That's okay, honey, I didn't really need those cups. I liked this ceramic Peko-chan better."
"But did you really need this bank, Aunt Kathy? Don't you already have at least six Peko-chan and Poko-chan banks?"
"Yes, but they are plastic and this one is ceramic. Besides, I need lots of banks to store all the wealth I'll be accumulating this year from eating that golden Chestnut and Sweet Potato Paste with the Shonan Ladies the other day."
"Oh, yeah. But why aren't you posting a picture of that gaudy gold candy dish shaped like a crown you bought for the JAW Mardi Gras party next week?"
"Because, Big Mouth, I was thinking it would make an excellent Christmas gift for your Aunt Betsy or Aunt Jane."
"Oops. Sorry."

(Starve the) Women & Children First!

It was going by the right door, and knocking desperately at the wrong one. ‥I told him of it: ‘Pooh,’ says he ‘my dear, any port in a storm.’
[1749 J. Cleland Memoirs of Woman of Pleasure II. 133]

The football moms fix lunch for the team on away game days and last week the team moms tasked me with contributing a gargantuan salad. Since Matt and I are still getting by with one frying pan and two saucepans, none of a size to cater to the multitudes, this struck me as an exceptionally considerate assignment. Then I dashed into the Commissary Tuesday, made a beeline to the lettuce/spinach case, and found . . . nothing.

Only slightly daunted, I returned to the Commissary the following day and the bin still looked like the Home Depot battery and flashlight display the day before a hurricane is expected to blow into town. In a word, empty.

Back to the Commissary for the third time, an hour before closing on Thursday, I was alternating Hail Marys and my favorite mantra ("I lead a charmed existence, I lead a charmed existence, I lead a charmed existence"). Six bags of dark green leaves and 15 heads of pale green leaves, not unlike the Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes, were waiting in the bin. On closer inspection, the dark green leaves were labeled "Collards" which might taste like spinach but why take that risk with those pale green heads on offer. Whether I bought iceberg lettuce or cabbage I can't say because the labels simply promised "marked-down produce."

A lady in my knitting circle - more on that another time, snort - credits the produce shortage to another tropical storm brewing somewhere between Hawaii and Japan. Ships tied to piers, she explained, can suffer expensive dents and dings during a storm so, to protect the taxpayers' investment, the Navy sends the ships out to sea where they are supposed to stay out of the storm's way. When these port-emptying storms crop up between scheduled replenishments of a ship's larder, the supply officers are compelled to raid the Commissary.

That Cleland person who coined the expression "any port in a storm" back in the mid-18th century was apparently not a sea-faring kind of guy/gal.