Song and dance

Sushi 101

Uta just finished a week of Karate Camp. Everyday they practiced Karate, played games, and had a special guest teacher come. Monday was calligraphy, Tuesday was Judo, Wednesday was Sushi, Thursday was origami, and Friday was samurai sword fighting. Uta liked the Judo and Sushi best of all. He said he might even like Judo just a little bit more than Karate, but he cant be sure of that after only one time.

On sushi day Uta learned the carefully guarded secret of making a sushi roll with the rice on the outside. Uta was very eager to demonstrate his new skills for me. If you know Uta, then you know he can do nothing without first dressing for the part. And it is never as simple as Uta just doing something like cooking. There must be a story line, a cast of characters, lines to memorize. Tonight it was a big sushi competition. Kizuki and I were the judges. We had to pretend to eat loads and loads of awful sushi before, at long last, we tasted his master sushi creation. Kizuki was very happy to play along and managed to get sticky rice on every square inch of her body.

Before Uta fell into the Hudson River...

He happily skipped between rocks. After... He was not so happy.

Note to self: Not all rocks are rocks. Some rocks are really floating boards, ready and waiting to capsize under a trusting foot. Lesson learned? Only time will tell.

The Little Red Lighthouse

Uta was just three years old when Uncle J gave him the book, "The Little Red Lighthouse", and promised one day to take him to see the real thing. It has always been a favorite story of Uta's, even though he just couldn't imagine it to be true. But this weekend he got to see for himself. Underneath the great grey shadow of the George Washington Bridge, on the Hudson River's edge, the little Red Lighthouse stands tall and proud.

Happy Father's Day!

Poor Pop

Due to a slight oversight, Papa H ended up watching Japan's second World Cup game, in spanish, standing up at the laundromat. Such devotion to a team should guarantee a win. But of course that's just not how it goes.

Japan Wins!

Luckily it only happens every four years, because I'm not sure I could tolerate this level of soccer enthusiasm (insanity?) on a regular basis. But watching Hiroshi go to any and all extremes to watch Japan in the World Cup is kind of endearing. On Monday morning, though he was supposed to be at work, Hiroshi got clearance from his boss to come in two hours late so that he could watch his beloved country battle Cameroon. He happily sat at an Irish sports bar, drinking coffee and watching the game simultaneously broadcasted on four giant flat screen televisions. Kizuki and I decided on a whim to join him for the second half. Hirohi watched the game and we watched him clapping and gasping all by his lonesome. It was very entertaining all around.

Mug shots