We went to cut grasses on the path to our fields on April the 28th. My mom said, they just grew at once during a few rains after she had cut all the way around the mid April.
I don't know the exact name of it, but she told me it's called "radish flowers". These little pretty flowers and their grasses coil around the cutter blade and are pain in the ass.
I'm the 4th patriarch of the family. The 1st one, that is my grand grand father was born in one of the biggest farmers in Tsunoshima, a small island, as the second son. And, I don't know if it's the tradition of the region, but the second and latter children usually used to take over other houses or to become priests. So, he as well was adopted to the other house once.
(Picture explanation: The path to our fields. The fields were totally abandoned, but these used to be nice rice fields. My mom broke through the path with her friends in the last year.)
However, he was way too prodigal for the house to let him take it, and I don't know exactly how prodigal he was but I guess it was surely enough to be expelled.
(Picture: After passing the woods above, we would face a straight path for about 50 yards. This is off course not our fields but just the path to them, meaning nobody's. Far away stands my mom.)
If we think about it, we may have been so lucky he was the way he was, but he was allowed to establish a branch family which was rare at the time, and he got some fields from the head house. Even now, our family is called the branch family when we attend certain gatherings.
(Picture: After cutting grasses in the picture above. We decided to go back home and go for a walk to get some turban shells like the day before. My mom walked before me. Once having been cut, we would notice it was a path, but when she first broke through the path, the height of the grass right next to her were all over the place.
She opened up the path I cut this time in three days at the first time. She is almost 70 years old and it is unbelievable how strong she is. When I cut the same height of grasses, even 10 yards was hell of the chore and I almost fell down.)
But, I myself would be called as a son of my father, or the younger brother of my older. We would find out why in this series little by little.
(Picture: The path before the woods after cutting.)
My grand grand father was a mason and the head of navvies when he was alive. He used to get so much money at the time, but I heard he drank almost all of it.
(Picture: The starting point after cutting. It looks nice and clean once it's done.)
As a kid, I grew up being told the two thirds of the wells of the island were made by him. Actually I heard 80%, but wells should be so many even when he was born so I decreased a little.
(Picture: My mom looking for turban shells in the ocean.)
But, I think the story that he drank almost all the money he got was real. I heard that he passed away because of alcohol when my father was 17. The reason why I think it was real is that I heard so many 1.8-liter Sake bottles were found on the roof of our barn after his death even though a doctor told him not to drink or else he would be dead.
(Picture: Old lady that I do not know. She knows who I am but I don't even understand how and I can't even remember her name although my mom told me who she was.)
Also, we could guess how bad he was by the fields that I would take. The fields are so far away from the house and difficult to farm, and the entrances were owned by the head family just because "he would sell them otherwise". If the entrance was owned by the other, the price would fall down to almost none, that I heard.
We could tell how he was not trusted at all, and he was the first head of the family. No wonder I am like this now.
(Picture: We don't have so much money and our fields are almost abandoned, but I at least inherit the right to take stuff in the ocean around the island, so we could gather so many kinds of shells and stuff.
This time, my uncle who is a carpenter (not the one who sucks at fishing) made a deal to craft a step for the terrace my mom asked him to make for mussels from the coast. So I gathered mussels using the tool which looks like just a stick in a basket in the pic below, sort of being picky to get bigger ones so that the uncle would not bitch about their size later. It took me a good while, and he was all happy about the deal.)
Our house was made by the second son of my grand grand father, and the great uncle made this one and the second one, then he quit because he was scolded for the crappy second one. After that, he had just drifted away from home. I heard there are some Yakuzas in that side of my family. Only people who are living normal lives are ladies, I heard.
(Picture: When we got home, cats were scouting the road in front of the house. The new terrace may have been a little peculiar for them.)
My mom is working on letting me inherit all the heritage, but she says it's damn difficult because most of the great uncle's family members' whereabouts are unknown. My grand father once tried to let my father inherit, but the great uncle asked for the money and it didn't work out.
(Picture: This is the terrace my mom asked the carpenter uncle to make. She looked so happy to have this. In addition to make this, the wavy roof became straightened by being supported by the terrace.)
Fields which worth almost none and the crappy house the great uncle made are all I got, but I should appreciate yummy meals I could get from the nature, which we could probably not get in cities.
I got a Kingfish from the best friend of my father that night, so I ate Kingfish sashimi and soy-sauce-cooked shells, which we got in the coast, and fresh veggies from my mom's little field and baked lotus root with cheese we made for a youtube video.
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