Canon's Diary

Sunday, June 22. It’s supposed to be the rainy season, but not a single cloud is in the sky—just clear, bright sunshine. Perhaps this too is a result of global warming. When I woke up, a ray of light peeked through the gap in the curtains. Since my room faces west, the sun doesn’t shine directly in, but I could hear the wind rustling the window. My body feels a bit heavy—probably from yesterday’s tennis lesson. My wife seems to have gone out for tennis.

A message pops up from my sister in the family group chat: “The melon bread I bought yesterday is really moist and delicious, so eat it soon!” Around 9 a.m., I finally get up and split the melon bread with my mother for breakfast. Indeed—it’s moist, and the sweetness is just right.

After finishing breakfast, I leave the curtains half-closed, settle into the reclining chair, and doze off for a bit. Before I know it, it’s already noon. The fatigue from yesterday’s lesson seems to be catching up with me. I go down to the kitchen, take some sliced pork belly from the fridge, stir-fry it with ginger sauce, then heat up some frozen fried rice. I top the rice with the ginger pork and chopped green onions—voilà, a ginger pork rice bowl. My mother had already eaten, but my wife came back from tennis just in time, so we had lunch together.

Hmm… It tasted fine, but the fried rice had a strong flavor, and so did the ginger pork, so the two flavors kind of clashed. White rice might have worked better, I thought as I ate. Still, my wife smiled and said, “It’s delicious,” so I’ll call that a win.

Later, while browsing the Nikkei website, I came across breaking news: the U.S. had attacked three nuclear facilities in Iran. They even used bunker-busting bombs. So… they finally went through with it. What happens next? Just after I’d shared a rare laugh with my wife, tension seeped back into my heart. It’s the first time the U.S. has officially attacked Iranian territory. I can understand that they might have felt they had no other choice. I just hope the conflict doesn’t escalate further.

With these thoughts still swirling, I headed out to my tennis lesson. It was a windy day. The rows of cherry trees were lush with green summer leaves, their branches swaying wildly in the breeze. It had been a while since I visited Tsukushino Tennis College during the daytime—everything looked like summer. I tried to center myself, closing my eyes and picturing a perfectly still surface of water. Tennis requires harmony of mind, skill, and body. Maybe because my heart was unsettled today, my play felt off. Well… some days are like that.

After coming home and taking a shower, I went to the hair salon. I was still quite fatigued, but chatted with the stylist about how both our parents are doing. I guess we’ve reached that age now. It’s already been 13 years since I started coming here, and they’ve always been kind and attentive—something I really appreciate.

After the haircut, I returned home. My wife had already done the grocery shopping for dinner. I’d planned to cook carbonara tonight for her and my mother. I cut the bacon into bite-sized pieces. I mix eggs, parmesan cheese, and black pepper to make the sauce base. While boiling the pasta, I fry the bacon until crispy, then turn off the heat. When the noodles are done, I toss them in the pan with the sauce, using only the heat of the pasta to blend everything together—if you use the flame, the eggs will scramble. The flavor was good, actually. But the noodles ended up a bit too firm, and since the eggs were cold, the whole dish cooled quickly. Maybe using pasta water to adjust the temperature without cooking the eggs is the key, but that’s still tricky for me. Cooking really is a deep art. Still, my wife and mother seemed happy. We had a lively conversation during dinner, something we hadn’t had in a while. I want to create more moments like this, little by little.