My sister and I spent many of our Thanksgivings with Patricia’s family in a light purple flat deep in San Francisco’s Richmond district.
Ramblings while on a slow suburban death.
Category: Food
On a bullet train ride from Shinagawa (Tokyo) to Hakata, I sat next to an older Japanese woman who had been sniffling during most of the trip. She had a mask around her mouth, and would politely bow whenever she had to cough or make a louder sniffle.