today I got caught in the rain three times
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-seven years and one million words
The whole family went out in the rain at around 10:00 this morning in an effort to do various errands before some guests would arrive in the afternoon. On the top of the list was going to the baby/toddler store and seeing about getting a larger bed for Kenny that would give him some space to move about (which his crib does not) but would contain him better than the futon currently does.
It turned out to be impossible. There was nothing like what we wanted, and the closest thing we could find was a simple fence-like affair. It cost over ¥100,000 ($1k). So we bought some smaller things and headed on to our next stop.
Only to find that rain was sheeting down. So we ducked into an adjacent 'family' restaurant for a (very) early lunch and hoped for the best. Naturally we finished our meal (Kenny ate well even without a harness to tie him in place) and it was still raining.
Happily, Mari had had the foresight to bring Kenny's rain gear from "Mountain Equipment Co-op" and we got him into that for the return ride. Upon which he fell asleep, and became quite an impediment to my steering as his over-sized, helmeted head kept flopping from left to right without provocation.
On the way home, I realized that we needed coffee. In the interest of familial unity, I'll summarize events by saying we decided not to stop in the rain.
We got home, soaking wet, and everybody showered. Then I joined Kenny in a nap. When I awoke, it was sunny.
So I decided to make the best of it and get the coffee we'd been um unable to buy earlier and to see if I could get the camera store to do something about my "repaired" but non-functioning rangefinder. Thanks to a fair bit of dithering on the part of the camera store staff, what I thought would be a may 1:15 hour trip turned into very nearly two hours.
The last five minutes of which I spent under heavy rain, of course. Showering once again, I was ready for our guests to arrive with minutes to spare.
The guests were a couple that Mari's known for many years. Well, she and the female half, Nozomi-san, have known each other since a training program at the language school they worked at in the 90's sent them both to Australia at the same time. Nozomi-san's about to have her first child (their first doctor stated that it was a boy, but the new one who's taken over says, "90% it's a girl") and they'd come by both for a visit and to take away some goods such as our baby monitor (unused this past year) and the special baby carriage that you only use for the first few months (until the kid's sitting upright).
After they'd gone, we decided to head over to the little street festival that was being held at the end of our block (in a tiny, grassless park that overlooks the railway lines and has the nickname 'Shinkansen park'). It's about 10000 square meters in size. They were financing the thing through the sale of tickets that you could redeem for whatever was available at the stands.
It was crowded, of course. They'd strung up lanterns and had a central stage that was built up with a high roof. From that stage some teenaged drummers kept up a beat while various adults did a slow, arms-waving dance around the thing in a circle. All around the periphery of the park were little stalls where people sold food and booze and possibly other things I only had eyes for the former.
We milled about, and I was struck once again how these little street festivals in Tokyo attract people of all ages, even the teens who'd be far too cool for such an event back in Canada. After we'd done the rounds greeting those people we knew, I was sent to stand in line for food. It began to drizzle a little bit, and I turned up the collar on my freshly ironed shirt. The weather, sensing my lack of respect, turned up the volume. I gritted my teeth and resolved that I was going nowhere, though a few individuals of lesser mettle had begun to slink away.
Then it really began to rain. The worst of the day. Everyone gave up on the queue for food edged under the tents. Then a tent dumped its load of water on the people within, and it was as if a switch had been flicked. The cooks began to roll up their food-making efforts and squawking festival-goers bolted for the exits.
Already soaked, I went to the booze stand and cashed some of the tickets. Finding Mari, Kenny, and various friends trying to shelter under a tree, I drank and watched everyone run around in the quickly-saturated sand. It made for rather good photography, so I ambushed people with lens and flash as they went about getting out of there.
Then Sam showed up with umbrellas for everyone, and we were given the largest one. We decided to let everyone else get out of the way before slodging through it all, and the rain suddenly eased up.
Mari suggested that we make a dash for the oden stand to see if they'd still sell us some of that Japanese dish (soup?) before closing up. They were all too happy to make the best of their remaining stock, and we left with three bowls for ¥750, all that we had left.
When we got back, it was time for another round of showers and then the hot meal.
It was a good day, all told. We made the best of it, and I'll certainly take drastic mood changes in the weather any day over that certain type of meh Sunday. You know, the iffy sort of weather that has you hanging around all day until you finally decide at 15:00 to watch a movie and kill the rest of the day with chores.