Lessons Learned on a Saturday

So Mark has left for an underway and I've found myself looking for things to do. It's been rainy, cold and dreary for the past few days. Yesterday I spent most of the day on base. After a 3 hour traffic safety course, I passed the written portion of the driver's exam and take the behind the wheel test Thursday. Watch out Yokosuka, the Spitfire (our scooter) and I are about to reunite. Then i headed over to the library to refine my application for the position of Supervisory Recreational Specialist that is open- keep your fingers crossed- and then to the gym and commissary. Its always a puzzle, grocery shopping is. What exactly do we need and how can I fit it into my backpack? Being without wheels does increase the amount of times I hit up the grocery store each week- I feel like my Mommom who used to go to Shopping Bag everyday. Yesterday's wet bike ride home was enough to make me want to stay in today, but what to do? Marissa will be here on Tuesday so I thought about busting out the Magic Eraser and giving the place a good one over. Nah, there's always Monday- that way it will still have the clean pine-s0l smell for her. Oh the excuses not to clean. Well, I really need no excuses to not clean, I just flat out hate cleaning, but I do think about it a lot. So today I was looking for reasons not even to think about it. Mission Accomplished. And not that foot in the mouth, half assed Mission Accomplished Bushy boy declared on the USS Lincoln. This was Mission Accomplished USS New Jersey.
Just look at that fine craftsmanship and detail. This is the first and last model ship I have or will ever put together, but I do have a much greater appreciation for the ship itself. Not to mention the people like Mark's Uncle Jeff who has probably built himself a fleet of ships over the years. Even though Mark and I have previously toured the USS New Jersey, which is docked at the Camden Waterfront, I never understood the amount of firepower that was on the girl. This baby had more pieces than licks it would take to get to the center of that tootsie roll pop! I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Oh sure, 'Just consult the picture' I thought. Stick that here and clip this on there- do you see how many guns there on are this thing. No really, take a look, over 40 and that's just the single ones. Do you see how many guns are on the turret style type thingies? Not to mention the whole contraption in the middle that took forever to figure out. It was a true test of my patience. So a vile of blood, two applications of liquid skin, three Bandaids, four tissues, and 6 hours later I too was able to declare, Mission Accomplished. Next time I think I'll clean.

A bike ride- Together!!

Since the second and final shipment of our household goods has arrived, we jumped on the chance to go for a bike ride- with two bikes!! Up to this point, bike rides have consisted of one of us riding the bike from the train station on the easiest setting so we could talk to each other as the other would walk beside the bike. This weekend we finally got the real deal. We zigged and zagged through the streets, happily getting lost along the way. The picture to the left is in a little bayside town who knows where in comparison to our house. Taking the picture was just as adventurous as the bike ride itself. Mark would balance the camera on some rickety wooden post and hit the timer button just with enough seconds to dash across the road, avoid the cars, and strike a pose. We had to do this about 5 times before we got a shot that didn't have a passing car, scooter, or bike in it. The water is so clear. Can you spot the many starfish on the bottom? It must have been at least 10-15 feet deep but you would think it was a shallow puddle it was so lucid.

We saw this small garden with flapping plastic bags on strings over it and thought it would be a great idea for Poppa Theurer in his battle with the deer who take his tomatoes. Let us know how it works if you give it a try.

We also stopped in a grocery store to see if there were any good deals. Yet another testiment to the 'smallness' of the country- look at their shopping carts-- not even kids can fit in them!!



The day was so nice that we didnt want to go back in the house when we got home so we decided to do some yard work. Here I am trimming this great looking tree beside the front door. Next will be trying to figure out what fruit we have growing and when it's time to pick them.

Sumo on a Sunday

Ah. Sit back, relax and give those piggies a rest. Get some nachos and guac and maybe your brew of choice. It's Sunday and your favorite team is on the boob tube. You click on the channel just in time to hear that redneck sing that coined jingle..."Are you ready for some Sumo?" Sumo? What, wait a second, what's going on here? Oh yea, that's right! I'm in Japan, duh! This is Sumo country! Well, when in Rome (in our case Japan), right? So we did. This past Sunday Mark, myself, and some buddies
from his ship attended our very first (hopefully not our last) Sumo tournament in Tokyo. Sumo has a long history in Japanese culture. The first forms of Sumo were religious and included dancing and prayers to the Gods for a good harvest. Not until the 8th century did Sumo actually become more regimented and sportlike with rules and techniques. In 1182, under the military dictatorship, it was even deemed useful in increasing the efficiency of the military fighters. Without bullets and bombs, I'm guessing these guys would be useful when it was all about brute strength (recalling Andre the Giant in Princessbride, 'Hello Lady'). So class, a little lesson in Sumo 101. The block that the wrestlers, or rikishi, bout on is elevated about two feet off the ground and made from clay. The dohyo, or the actual rope looking thing that makes the ring (you can see it behind these mens' feet), is made out of straw rice bales that are burried to form a circle with a 15 foot diameter on top of this elevated clay. A thin layer of sand then covers the clay. A bout is won when an opponent is thrown out of the ring or if any part of the body other than the soles of the feet touch within the ring. This means any part of the body- a toe, a finger, even that little knot on the tops of their head! There are six Grand Tournaments a year, three are held in Tokyo. A tournament lasts for fifteen days, each fighting once every day with a different opponent. The rikishi with the best record of wins over losses is awarded the Emperor's Cup on the final day after the last match. Although there's so much more to it, you'll have to come here to learn more. So now that the lesson is over, our reactions. This gives a whole other meaning to, "Do you think my butt looks big?" These guys get up to four minutes to prepare for the bout once they're in the ring. It wouldn't be so annoying if the bouts lasted more than 10 or 15 seconds.
But they say it's about psyching out your opponent. Everytime they enter the ring they throw some salt to purify the ring. The stomping stance they take before the bout is to rid the ring of evil spirits. For such big men, they sure do have a lot of supersitions. It was quite funny to see them shuffling along in the streets with their big kimonos on. It is very difficult to become a Rihishi and it is an honor when you do.

A Glimpse at the Wildlife

This first picture is of Sophie, the Chappel's awesome dog, taking her stance on the cliff. The family has dubbed the cliff 'Pride Rock' as she sits here overlooking the bush like a Lioness over her kingdom. And boy does she have a lot to keep her eyes on. I have never seen so many different types of birds and bugs gathered together at the same time, ever. Colorful parrots, yellow haired cockatoos, geckos, lizards, wallabiess and kangaroos. Right after this picture was taken I called Sophie over to where I was sitting to give her a good scratch on the back. It could only have been 15 seconds before she darted into the yard giving me enough warning to turn around and catch a wallaby bouncing past the bushes with her in hot pursuit. FYI, wallabies are smaller than kangaroos. Don't feel bad, I didn't know the difference either. Next on the trip, I must find a koala.

12 Apostles on the Great Ocean Road

After arriving in Australia on Boxing Day we wasted no time in getting started on our first adventure, hitting up the Great Ocean Road. The GOR is a stretch of highway in the territory of Victoria that meanders along the coast of southeastern Australia, approximately 14 hours south of Sydney. There we found breathtaking sights such as the world recognized 12 Apostles. These limestone cliffs jut out 50 to 100 yards off the coast and have been forming and falling for as long as the Earth has been evolving. Although 2 of the structures have collapsed in the past 10 years, experts say that the Southern Ocean's force will form other to replace them over time. Besides awesome sights along the coastline we drove past farmland as far as the eye could see and stopped in towns as small as 1050 people. It was in Port Campbell, home to the Twelve Apostles that I got my first and only glimpse of Kangaroos bouncing through the fields. Just like a tourist, I thought all of Australia would be warm in the summer. However Port Campbell is less than 3000 miles from the South Pole. I hadn't anticipated the cold weather and was quite under dressed most of the time. Withstanding the wind chill was certainly worth the pictures. We stayed in a very cute quiant motel about 2 miles from the 12 Apostles State Park. The motel was situated on a few acres of land with horses, pigs, and goats. The remoteness was the perfect place to take in the night sky which was saturated by shining stars. This arch pictured at the bottom is a natural blowhole when the waters come rushing through. Besides the frigid water temp, the seas were rough and choppy so there were no surfers or snorkelers to be seen. Only the crazy seagulls battled mother nature and even they were being blown like pieces of paper caught in the wind.

The Flight of the Bumblebee

Here's a picture of Linds and I outside of the Botanical Gardens in Sydney. To have been able to sit with one of my best mates, my maid of honor and reflect on life was one of the most cherished things of all my trip. I can't quite figure out how I want to start my first thoughts in the New Year- so much has happened it's hard to recap life through eloquent lines of serenity and thanks. So I will compare it to a song. If my life in 2008 were to be represented by a musical composition it would undoubtedly be Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov's 'Flight of the Bumblebee'. You know of the piece, I'm sure. The cacophony of instruments seem to be battling each other, driven to make their noise heard among the other fleeting sounds. If you were to close your eyes and guess where the notes are fleeting to, what do you see? To me it represents all that goes on in life; the juxtaposition of jubilant victories with asphyxiating tragedies. Neither of which have any regard for the timing of the other, they just happen. Singularly, these moments may be negotiable or manageable, but when does life happen when you can manage it? Just as one could disassemble the 'Flight of the Bumblebee' and argue it to be nothing more than chaotic, sparring bursts of sounds, together these sounds comprise a mesmerizing score that makes me keep hitting the replay button. Life, too, with its untimely stages of triumph and defeat seems to be this mind blowing masterpiece of rhyme and rhythm that has it's own agenda, it's own direction. Although I can't control it, I am not afraid of what is in store, it's only 52 weeks after all. Because I long for the days when I could hold my Grandpop, my only solace is to capture my thoughts during these times of life and death, for without the memories of life with those you love, what is the point of life at all?