January was

another volte-face and another and another future dreamt up and slung into the slush with all the rest.

Tommy the tank has finally met with an end. The mechanic actually chuckled to me when he explained, on top of everything else, there was a something in the muffler, which I guessed to be a hole in the exhaust, and which was a hole in the exhaust.

I've never cycled on a more challenging surface than that of winter. Wet slush takes power, morning frozen slush shudders from f i n gerpoin t to sho ul der you r body, and early evening it all melts on the roads to a greasy black that freezes to an inviting sparkly black that dares just dares you to take a corner sharp or ride a little like the usual speed should be.

We all shuffle on- Shinsukes, Akiyoshis, Kats birthdays.

Cutting out Japanese study is like cutting off your pinkie toes. They give you all kinds of stability you never knew you ever had.

And today,1-4 Kensuke said I was his dreams last night! I was in my car (alive!) and stopped to talk to him. I tried to tell him maybe he is a seer, or at least a vessel for those beyond the realm of the living, but I don't think the message got through.