My Secret Place

My legs have definitely recovered from Mount Fuji. I can walk down stairs now without the slightest wobble and I ran 22 kilometers in 35 degrees heat this morning and didn't feel the least bit strained. No more tooth pain or medicine induced drowsiness either. I'm back!

As I was getting ready to go out this afternoon, Kazuko asked me where I was going. "My secret place," I replied. "My secret place" is what I call this little garden where I like to go and read some afternoons during most summer holidays. It is the first time I have been during this summer holiday, however. Kazuko laughed and said, "My secret place! That's so cute! It sounds like something a five year old boy would say when he hides in a closet or a kitchen cupboard."

Hmm. I'm not so sure if it is good to be cute at fifty years of age, but I guess I'll take it. Women usually think men are all boys anyway, even if they are generals or the presidents of nations. Some deservedly so, I might add.

My Secret Garden