Today being Friday was full-on veggie boxes. Starting before breakfast with 2 hours stripping edamame beans; then cabbage trimming, mizune weighing and bagging, spinach wrapping, egg washing and boxing. I enjoy it: being told what to do, not having a plan in my head, and knowing that I can do it well. And I like the variety. In fact, without it I'd be a bit over cooked - yesterday's weeding and banking up the rows of leeks into nice raised lines was heavy duty; a second day on the trot might have been de trop.
I sometimes muse on how I would have followed up this woofing experience if I'd had it at a different time in my life. From my fifty-something perspective I wish doing something linked to organic farming could be an option for me now; but, as a twenty-five year old, might it only have felt like a "gap" activity until I got a "proper job"?
And of course I'm being dewy eyed: Floating in and out as a woofer gives a cushy snapshot of a life that seems in tune, truly collaborative, sociable, rewarding, sane. But Shigeo and Keiko work their socks off; and have constant uncertainty with the weather, and crop success or failure.
One aspect of living as a kind of guest is that everything is completely out of my control: what I eat, what I do... and maybe that's another reason why I am so content! I never know what will appear on the table next. For breakfast today it was a sausage, sliced cucumber, tomato omelet, yesterday's salad remains and sultana and walnut loaf. Washed down with the Earl grey tea I (boldly) brought from England. Lunch was wonton soup, a seaweed dish, a funny/slimy sweet potato cooked with soy and fish sauce, fried rice and veg. I made the mistake of putting a whole umeboshi plum into my mouth. It was utterly different from the Morimotos style, the sensation as though I'd swallowed a tablespoon of neat salt. I couldn't suppress my howls of discomfort. And then to be told "very healthy", the idea (voiced at the Morimotos, also) and that the Japanese low-meat diet has to have salt from other sources.
Keiko's cooking style is a little like mine - slap it on the table, serve everything up, make sure no left-overs. But some of the Morimoto influence is still with me and this feels - dare I say it - a bit gross! And I know I am eating more, too, none of the "eating with your eyes" that characterised Rie's cooking. But Keiko doesn't spend 5 hours a day cooking; two 40-minute sessions. Punto.
At the end of my stint today I was planning on having a kip but Shigeo suggested I use the last 2 hours of daylight to cycle to Buttsuji temple, half an hour away. (See FB pics.) Having no expectation whatsoever, I was entranced by the vermilion pagoda, mysterious statues, late-afternoon sun shining through maples, the tranquility, and remoteness. But I had no idea of the significance of the place until later in the day.
Googling, I've found that "the Zen Buddhist temple, Buttsuji, was founded in 1397 by Kobayakawa Haruhira who was the lord of the area around Mihara City. Under the patronage of the Kobakawas, a deeply religiously devoted family, Rinzai-Zen Buddhism enjoyed a golden period where, at its height, it governed 88 sub-temples and 3,000 smaller temples." Well well. And on my doorstep. I may have to make a return trip to check out what I missed today.
Meanwhile, the daily, "Lebecca, please take shower" has summoned me. I love it.
And I've been told hat I'll be having supper next door, with Yohei and Kayo. At this point I'm beginning to feel like the kid who needs babysitting - Shigeo et al are clearly out and I'm home and alone...
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