Earthquake, Wind and Fire
Yesterday an 8.1 earthquake shook Mexico, killing a number of people. Tomorrow an enormous hurricane will score a direct hit on Florida.
And the fire? Yesterday at Trevor's apartment complex there was a fire on the top floor. An apartment across the hall from him, directly underneath, suffered major water damage from the sprinkler system. The water ran down the walls, inside, causing the ceiling of Trevor's place to bulge. The hall carpets had to be torn up. Trevor was busy for most of the day, giving access to firemen, inspectors and the like.
An adorable Hollywood actress says its all happening because Mother Nature is mad at Trump, (and his supporters presumably)!
Japan Christmas (continued)
Christmas at 234E was as wonderful as other Christmases, although I did not quite believe in Father Christmas any more. We had a sparkling Christmas tree near the fireplace in the living room. My stocking was hung at the foot of my bed, however, because my parents wished to get another hour or so of sleep. I woke up very early, and in the dim light could make out a large structure that had not been in my bedroom the night before. It was a complete, miniature 'shop' with shelves stocked with little cans and boxes of food, and other items to buy. There was even a miniature balance scale on which to weigh produce, and some pretend money to give change to the customers. My father had had the whole thing specially made, and I was entranced.
Every year, at the very bottom of my stocking there was an orange. This was traditional, because oranges were a great luxury in Britain, only to be enjoyed on special occasions.
Food now, in Yokohama, was getting scarce. My mother used to gather my outgrown clothes and bargain for eggs in the marketplace. Sometimes we would go to Chinatown, which was a magical place of straw hatted coolies carrying pails of all kinds of things, balanced on their shoulders. We sometimes went in rickshaws, pulled by coolies trotting with head down in front of us. They allowed only one adult in each rickshaw, so I would have to decide whether to ride with my mother or father.
I wore gaiters. Little English girls did not wear long pants, but to keep our legs warm in winter we had gaiters. Mine were of brown leather, with a million buttons down the outside of the legs. I had a button hook and fastened each button with great care. We walked to Church on Christmas Day, I wearing my gaiters and a blue coat and hat to match.
We went to a nearby Anglican Church on Sundays, where I attended Sunday School. I remember a very dramatic movie about Christ, but not much else, except that Anglicans had a different ending to the Lord's Prayer. I was taught to say my prayers every night, kneeling by my bed with hands folded. The prayer went:
"Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, look upon a little child.
Pity my simplicity, suffer me to come to thee.
God bless Daddy, God bless Mummy, and make me a good girl, Amen"
As the bombing increased over Britain, my parents required me to add, "God bless granny", and other unfortunate relatives to my prayers.
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