First Day of the Third Week

Today, for the first time in probably five or six years, I donned my fancy purple lace-up roller blades.  I don't do this sort of thing for just anybody (I usually spent just as much time on the ground nursing an injury as I did actually skating), so when the five little Japanese children looked up at me with their pleading puppy dog eyes I could only give in.  So, cameras in hand and feet wobbling only slightly in their newly bought skates, I led on my six Japanese guests in a lap around the block.  

By the time all the dust and cobwebs had blown off my skates I had gained back a bit of confidence.  I knew how to do this!  And so, to the applause of my Japanese housemates, I was skating forwards and backwards and helping them to do the same.  

Of course once I was ready for round two (three blocks to the 7-Eleven), four were tired and done and one was already asleep on the deck.  My six eager and determined students had turned into one.  Still wanting slurpees, the others all put on their sneakers and ran to catch up as I left with my new skating buddy at top speed (well, not quite top speed).  

It was of course on the way home that I tripped on my own feet and slammed into the pavement.  My moment of glory though, came right after I stood up and somehow managed to fall again, this time in front of a gaggle of spectators.  I think there were photos taken.  

Thus began the third week of my month with the Japanese here in Canada: with bloodshed and tears.