Commute

So, public transportation.  The Japanese are quite restrained on subways and trains.  Quiet rules.  You can be in a packed car during rush hour and there is NO noise but the sound of the train itself.  And you very rarely see anyone eat or drink--or do anything that might disturb their fellow passengers.  I've even seen a school girl put a finger to her lips to remind her chatting friend to pipe down.  But girls will regularly put on makeup while riding the train, which I can totally understand. Anything for a few extra minutes' sleep in the morning.  But this is the first time I've seen false eyelash application.  The girl on the left was holding the mirror for her friend at first, and giving instructions.  Methinks someone's mother doesn't want her wearing these things.  At least, that's the story I made up in my head.

Kappabashi

Day trip to hunt down the restaurant supply district. Stores to buy everything you need to open your own ramen shop. Or any other kind of restaurant. Or let's be real, stock your own kitchen. Oh so fun!

I do believe we've found it.

The knife chooses the chef, Mr. Potter...

The little ones are smaller than a fingernail.

Blinged out coffee pot?

Not even sure what they're selling, but I want it.

                                                            Street after street of shops like this.

Indigo

Remember when you were a kid and first learned about the color called indigo?  Mysterious, regal, more than blue but not quite purple, making the rainbow into "ROYGBIV"?  Love it.  Thrills me in my guts.  One of my favorite Crayolas.  Japan has a centuries-old love affair with indigo.  Deep like a summer's night sky, indigo-dyed textiles were traditionally made into work clothes, but also kimonos and noren (fabric door curtains) and pillows and table linens and all sorts of glorious things. 
Near my home there is a small shop called Blue and White that specializes in the best of Japanese blue and white crafts, including indigo textiles.  Not machine dyed, but dipped and steeped in huge jars by the few artists who still make it this way, their hands dyed black from years of work, celebrating this color that reminds us of sea and sky.

And I had to buy this book, written by the shop's owner. 

Plum Blossoms

The much-heralded cherry blossom season is coming around the end of March, but we get this deliciously-scented preamble earlier in the month.  This is at Koishikawa Korakuen, the remnants of an Edo-era park in north Tokyo.

You can click on the photos for larger size.