Japan - A Week In Fall

Hello my Friends!

So, truth be told, I had a long spiel on foliage detailing the explanations for why leaf colors become bright red and orange for just a short time in Autumn, as well as some of the different local trees of Japan. But. I feel like I have already taken so much time with my post On Writing that I say we just leave this one to the pictures because the colors and the mood of each are indeed what this post should be about: pictures telling one thousand words.

Much love my Friends, how I wish you could be here to enjoy the changing of seasons with me. 

Love,

-A

Japan - On Writing

こんにちは！
Hello!


And good morning! You know, writing is tough. Yet for as tough as it is, writing first relies on the fundamental understandings of basic language. And learning a language can be extremely difficult if your brain is not wired in that way. No shame, some brains are simply more adequate to learning languages than others who, for example, might be more adept at intuitive artistry.

This is going to be a text heavy post, so get ready.

OK. Through a string of blog posts and the refinement of teaching lessons, difficulties I once overlooked in the English diction are slowly become less opaque, and new sets of questions I never needed to explain before have come into light. What was once an passive understanding of a system of language is now a comprehensible combination of rules and exceptions surrounding a deep history of word appropriation, structural reconfiguration, and conceptual adaptation.

No joke, English can be difficult language. Supporters site irregular verbs conjugations and various exceptions to many rules as reasons for difficulty, as opponents scoff at repeatable grammar types and lack of gender presence. What I say is English is generally easy to learn while incredibly difficult to perfect. That being said, Japanese is nothing to scratch your nose at - the Japanese essentially intermixes three, sometimes four (!) different sets of characters simultaneously. You better know all of them in full if you are to stand a chance at reading. And thats just the first step. Lets say you can identity all seventy-one basic Hiragana characters and can form a word, you still have to know what word you are reading. Oh, and did I mention that the Japanese don't use spaces?

Thatmeansyoureallyhavetoknowwhenandwherewordsbeginandendoryouwillfindthetaskofreadingimpossible.

So, in appreciating the struggle (and taking a break from) learning Japanese, I am submitting a new blog post to give insight to why people, correctly, say that learning Japanese is one of the harder languages to accomplish.

If I haven't come out at said it directly before, Japan's dollar store chains are remarkable. Each one is different and the one in Tosa city sells this really helpful graph paper used to practice writing. You may remember something similar in grade school when learning cursive, that top and bottom solid line, with a broken middle line to guide the upper stroke marks of your cursive writings. Same concept here, expect that character is focused in its own square, and each square is further partitioned by horizontal and vertical dotted lines to guide each stroke placed in relation to the center of the character's position. 

Practice, practice and more practice. I've now amassed two and a half notebooks, the latest pages denoting something resembling complete sentences. 

Lets start this one by first jumping into our time machine.

We want to travel back and observe the development of human "writing" on the grand time scale. What we would see are systems around the world tending to originate in picto-graphic forms (pictures standing for events, objects, or thoughts) and transforming gradually into sono-graphic modes of expression. That is, from images that represent certain ideas (e.g. Egyptian hieroglyphs) to the representation of characters coding for audible sounds (modern day English alphabet). Now one of the biggest mistakes we can make is to say that this transformation is lineal, or at worst, that its progressive. No where, despite our specie-centric point of view, is it law that our way is the best way. In fact, if we continue to notice change through the modern era, we actually see the reversal of this effect! This transition into sono-graphic systems is beginning to loose momentum and like a giant pendulum is getting ready to swing back into the realm of imagery with the advents and popularity of modern short-hand texting, picture messages, and especially emoji. At least what we can say from all of this is that adding a smiley face in your message is nothing new at all conceptually, but a fresh form.

All of this points us to the understanding that this switch from images to sounds is again found in the the story of how the Japanese language developed. So, to begin, lets go to China.

The Chinese are known for having a huge, vast library of characters at their disposal. The official numbers are around 3,500 characters, yet, because our time machines are set back to the 5th century CE, we can expect a larger range in the 40 or even 50 thousands. And so imagine you are a Japanese aristocrat familiar with most of the Chinese writing, and are charged with adapting the system for Japan's people. What do you do?

Well, you develop Man'yogana. It was the in between language that used Chinese characters to represent the Japanese language. Man'yogana is no longer in use, although we can say that its modern representation is the Kanji. This is the most difficult modern set of Japanese characters, and is actually the basis for two of the following writing systems. From Man'yogana, the Japanese created the Katakana and the Hiragana systems. Yet, its a mistake to think of either Hiragana or Katakana as reductions.

As with most, if not all writing systems, the practice of reading and writing was reserved first for the elite, high-ranking, and the noble men of society. As an effect of this, it was the esoteric and esteemed ambiance surrounding the privilege of reading and writing that gave the form of communication both its simultaneous mystic and intrigue. Flaunted hauteur and its desire often go hand in hand.

And so, from the people who first could not, or simply were not allowed to, learn the Man'yogana of the day, began developing their own short-handed way for capturing and propagating this trend called writing. You might have guessed that if it were the noble men who were given the opportunity to learn Man'yogana, then it was the noble women of Japan who invented Hiragana, the short-hand Kanji.

Culturally suppressed simply because of their sex (remember to always qualify sex apart from gender) reasoned that Japanese women were forbidden to write in Man'yogana, so they adapted it to form their own unique, popular, and still in use today, Hiragana. Literally meaning "flat" "false" "name," or loosely translated to mean "squashed fake characters," Hiragana is a quick and fluid way of writing the 46 (now 71) characters in one stroke. Because of this, you can still see the curves and rounded corners of Hiragana characters. For example,　ひらがな.  And as a testament to the great use and popularity of this new script in ancient Japan, one of the oldest and most well known Japanese novels is written by a woman. It is The Tale of Genji, which, of course, was written all in Hiragana by Murasaki Shikibu.

Now, one of the reasons that you might have heard that Japanese is one of the hardest languages to become familiar with is because aside from Man'yogana which is now Kanji and Hiragana, Katakana was introduced around the 8th century and thrown into the mix. Furthermore, Katakana represents the exact same 71 possible syllable sounds as Hiragana, but with a completely new set of characters to memorize. This may at first sound redundant. Why create two separate syllabaries to represent the exact same set of phonetics? Good question.

The answer is function. And actually, once you start to notice which words are spelled out in Hiragana and which ones use Katakana and Kanji, the Japanese language starts to show its premeditated structural form. Hiragana is the first language students are taught at school. It is used to represent adjectives and verbs for the larger part, sometimes as particles.

Katakana, meaning "fragment" "false" "name"  or loosely translated to "broken apart fake characters" is the made up directly of Kanji characters which have been broken apart. To keep track, Hiragana emulated the Kanji in its own fluid form, whereas Katakana actually breaks apart the Kaji into simpler forms and retains its sharp strokes. Thus, Katakana embodies an overall rigid, angular presence on the page. And yet both Hiragana and Katakana code for the same 71 possible syllables. To help demonstrate this effect, here is my name  in Hiragana　あんどれす　and again in Katakana　アンドレス. Today, Katakana is set aside to be used for foreign words, titles, names, and others.

Please note that Hiragana and Katakana are NOT alphabets. They are syllabaries. Each symbol codes for a syllable, not a letter. Each is comprised of a consonant and vowel with the single exception of "n" which stands alone. This is very much unlike the American alphabet that combines consonant and vowel letters to form syllables in varying ranges. Therefore, when you write out the name Andres in Japanese, you must add vowels because the consonants "d" and "r" in my name do not exist on their own. What you get is my name written as Andoresu.

Although seeing you name in another script can spark cool fascination, many foreigners jump too quickly into force writing their name in modern Kanji. But its not that simple. Set anywhere from 50,000 to 100,000 different characters, modern Japanese Kanji is, in a word, intimidating. Perhaps that is why 85% of Japanese people who challenge themselves to the highest level of the Kanji Kentei...fail.

The Kanji Kentei is the standard ruler index for measuring Kanji comprehension. The test counts not only the recognition of Kanji, it tests its application as well because many Kanji are homonyms. And for good measure, the exam also tests the correct stroke order to the character. To say that some of these characters are inherently intricate is no long stretch of implication. The Kentei test is made up of ten levels, level ten being the lowest and easiest, comprising of just 80 characters. This is the test passed by first graders. At the other end of the scale, level 1, there are 6,355 characters that tests the classical Japanese proverbs and idiomatic expressions, knowledge of synonyms and antonyms, and special or radical Kanji readings.

Is the concept of why Japanese is so difficult coming into focus now? If you want to be humbled by a short Kanji map of characters, follow this link: Kanji.

Realistically however, you wont need all, or even most, of those. According to Japanese Ministry of education, there are 2,136 "official"characters used in government documents with about half being taught in elementary and the other have in secondary school. And since its inception, new Kanji has been invented, and many old Kanji have been modified.


Phew! Ok, almost done here. If you are keeping count, you may have noticed that so far I've only covered three of the four Japanese scripts. Fortunately, I've saved the easiest for last. The final script is Romanji. Like the name implies, this set follows the Roman alphabet system that you are reading currently. So, when you read Japanese names such as Tokyo, Sushi, Teriaki, you are already reading Romanji. Congratulations!!

Finally, I say that learning Japanese is a smother transition in fact because I know Spanish. Similar to Japanese by coincidence, Spanish also works by a 1:1 consonant/vowel pattern. Spanish doesn't have any ugly words like "through" that contains five consonants, two vowels but only one syllable. I love to watch the Japanese expression of surprise and amazement when I explain this to my students and in effect, this little bit of insight has sparked for me what I describe as my new and completely superfluous hobby of writing Spanish in Japanese.

はすた るえご！

あほる,

-A

Japan - Tokyo Trip

Really, what would be a trip to Japan without visiting its capital city, Tokyo? Recently, I took that opportunity.

Like my home in Kochi, Tokyo is a prefecture and the name of the predominant city. But in Tokyo there are 23 special neighborhoods, or wards, that make up one of the most populated (although not the most dense, as we will see) areas in the world. That is no surprise, Tokyo is almost famous for its massive population. Take for example the city's anti smoking laws. At least in Chiyoda, were the Japanese Palace resides, it is illegal to smoke not because its bad for public health (nationally, smoking in Japan is not make illegal by Article 25 of the Health Promotion Act) but because the streets were so crowded that the people began to report very high numbers of accidental cigarette burns.

That's a good story, but did you also know that Tokyo is the most populated metropolitan area....in the World?! Yes, in the World. As of 2011, there are 13.2 million people living there, at about 6,000 km² or 16,000 square miles. For comparison, Manhattan houses 1.6 million people though at a much higher density of people at 27,345 km² or 70,825 square miles, and San Francisco houses just under a million people with 840,000 at a density of 6,898 km² or 17,867 square miles.

Historically, Tokyo was first named Edo. It was named and founded by the, you guessed it, Edo clan in the late 12th century. And for a while, in the ensuing years, the clan and city grew in strength, commerce, and popularity. Eventually, the small town was to grow exponentially and become the focal point of attention because of just one man's social and cultural status. So much so, that by the 18th century, the city rivaled Kyoto, home to the Emperor. That man responsible for Edo's large popularity name was Tokugawa Ieyasu, and he was to rise to the level of Shogun in 1603, and transform Edo into an informal capital itself. Essentially the leader of the nation's entire military and president of foreign affairs (the emperor, having appointed the shogun, was little more than ceremonial at this point in time), he commanded the legendary Samurai warriors who, despite largely began putting down the sword in favor of aristocratic positions, still held the authority to cut down any commoner for lack of respect without question. 

The shogun Tokugawa housed his military strength in Edo and what was once a small fishing village became the new political capital. Kyoto and the Emperor were being overpowered. In 1868, when the Tokugawa Shogunate (also referred to as the Edo period) ended and the Meji Restoration began, the emperor moved from Kyoto to Edo, and renamed it Tokyo. A similar even occurred in 324 AD when Byzantine was inaugurated as Constantinople (dedicated on May 11th - the same day as my birth), and reformed many times over into what is now modern Istanbul. So it has been.

My mother once asked me, "Andres, I love your photos, but where are all the people?"

Although I really do love living out in the country side, where the air is so fresh and I don't have to wear a watch, there is still something in me that can't help but to frolic happily in city streets. The concrete, the sounds people in motion, and cool frames such as this.

For my stay, I made a reservation with a nice man Peter from Air BnB. Like that last time I used this room for rent service, I was completely satisfied with what I paid for. This is the view outside my room.

Just down the street from my place, Tokyo Tower. Still a popular tourist attraction, the tower is now overshadowed, quite symbolically, by Tokyo's newest and tallest building, the Sky Tree.

Unfortunately, the rain seems to follow me in my travels. From my long days spend cycling under the rain in Kyushu, the dark clouds are back in Tokyo, and they've brought high wind typhoons with them. 

Bike parking, Tokyo style.

Watching the rain as I wait outdoors, foolishly, for the rain to pass by.

Eventually, the rain and storm did pass by and the sun came out to play =) Still early in the afternoon, I took the rest of the day to walk around the famous neighborhoods. 

Random corners in Tokyo's famous Shinjuku.

Walking around Shinjuku.

After a little lunch, made my way onto the not so complicated subway system and off at the massive Shibuya crossing. This is that popular intersection that cuts off traffic for people from five corners to cross the street in a hurry. Its not as hectic as you think, and no one amazingly runs into each other.  

Playing tourist and looking up at all the cool signs. 

I had walked for so long, entertained by the lights and stores, and new faces that the Sun began to set before I knew it. Not that that stopped me from my bi-pedal exploration. 

I like to praise cycling as a means of travel, however since I've left my bicycle at home, walking around has made use out of forgotten muscles. I am glad I did, I got to see so many other things by looking up that I have to believe I would have missed if I were cycling, observing traffic and avoiding collisions. Here, in what was the brightest moon in recent memory, I sat and sipped my coffee. Seriously, the moon was as bright as a streetlight.   

Like most big cities, Tokyo is constantly under construction.

With the night came more of my excitement. I was expecting neon beams of light, drunk laughs and conversations down the street, and hurried excitement that can never be copied outside of a Saturday night metropolis - but this was all more than I expected. Tokyo at night is all that amplified. I didn't even want to go eat dinner inside because I wanted to just soak up all the atmosphere I could until I was bloated in saturation. And even then, I knew there was much more to see, good food to eat and smell, and random streets to get lost on.     

Along the way, why not take a random store elevator? No good reason not to, that's why.

"Gothic" is what I thought to myself as I stared up at this clock-tower for the better part of ten minutes. "Straight out of a Batman comic book."

Lucky for me, there is only an overnight bus between Kochi and Tokyo, so I hopped on the late bus, fell asleep like a baby, and woke up practically at home. Great times all around. I'll be back.

Much, much Love,

-A

Tosa's Summer Festivals

IKonichiwa and hello!

Its sometime in the end of November and seeing the Holidays just around the corner I thought it good time to go back and put post the summer's missed pictures. Most of these are from the the August break, which for half the time I went cycling around the island of Kyushu for a bit of wet fun and exercise. Looking back, the days were so hot compared to this oncoming winter. Back then, I would wake up and sweat a little inside my tent once the Sun reached out over the synthetic rainproof fabric. Now, I imagine, I would want to stay inside those yellow flaps and wait out the day's warmth a bit later than 6:00 am. Anyways, I won't do much explaining here, the photos are just a little eye candy and a peek into the array of festivals that happen during Summer in southern small towns, Japan.

Undoubtedly the biggest festival by number of people attended that month was this one. This summer celebration came in full force with music, food, fireworks, and a huge ceremonial dance competition. On the main stage before you is where scores of groups come and unify in synchronized movements to taiko drum beats and traditional music to compete for best choreography and entertainment. All in all, the competition starts in the morning with the young children's division and continues on all through the evening. Not that there are not some children in the later sets too. As per usual, the most famous teems are scheduled at the end of the night, which is fine because in Japan, you can drink in the streets. Basically, have a friend save you a "spot" while a beer run to the corner store happens, and smooth right back into the show.  

While cycling around the island of Kyushu, I found myself in Amakusa with my friend Yoshi and another friend Konosuke. I was only with them for one night since I had to keep moving, yet one night was all I needed. And as it happens, a festival was to ocupy the streets that night with Konosuke's mother in full spirits (pictured here). Spectators are welcome to join the dancing =)

A float from the festival night in Amakusa.

Back in Kochi city, the festival continued way into the night. This is one of the more popular dancing groups. My friends tell me this team wins every year, and so they did in tonight's competition as well.

Although the big stage at the heart of the city drew many of the families and visitors attention and cameras, there were many many other events and smaller parades throughout the night. I don't know how anyone got around in a car that night, impossible. 

So used to American parades and outfits and music, I am sure that many of the local spectators here felt like they've seen it all before, but I enjoyed the fresh take on collective conviviality. 

Back at home, literally from my balcony, the town residents celebrated every weekend, sometimes in the middle of the week as well during August. I was delighted to see so many of my students elegantly marching past, enthusiastically smiling and not just wondering "how much farther?" 

More parades and proud parents on a different day. This parade was small, and indeed was short as well. So much so that when I left my third floor apartment after snapping this shot, the parade line was all but over and the back up of cars eager to begin driving freely again.

Without a doubt, the most popular festival of the year in Tosa City is tonight. For some reason (that I could never get a straight answer for despite my casual questioning) the lost sport of tug-a-war is the defining festival of our little town here. Apparently the challenge goes back a long, long time and many generations. The modern embodiment of this tradition entices and enlists people of all ages to dry off their hands and grab some twined rope. I saw groups made up of both sexes, young adults, and even an over-forty challenge tug against each other. The photo here however is obviously not between groups of locals but a race to determine just which group could pull a full length tour bus 100 meters the fastest. 

All through the day and along the main street, this long braided rope lined the walkway. Its sheer length and untouched look about it teased me, stating that something big was going to go down later. Until then, you'll just have to daydream.

Finnally, after all the carnival games had been won, and the last group had pulled the worn bus across the last 100 meter stretch, it was time for half of all the participants to align on one side of the rope, and the other along the opposing side. A line was drawn in the middle pavement. Then, slowly, everyone began to pick of the massive white rope that had been rolled out into the middle of the street moments before. The rope itself so large that people had trouble holding it up, much less getting a good grip under their arm and give it a good pull. The "war", in this way, was extremely comical and the crowd couldn't help but to arbitrarily cheer on the efforts of the soldiers. 

Then for some reason the men lost their shirts and had water sprayed on them. 

Of course, my summer time was not all beer in the street walking, tug-of-waring, and sleeping until noon, I also took in a couple of shows. I feel that people look at me and wouldn't guess classical music. Maybe its the goatee, I don't know. In any case, classical music rings my triangle bell. Sure. What draws me to classical section is the teamwork. I hear a good classical score like I see well preforming sports team. At its basic, there is individual effort, everyone has a part to play and success is found when everyone does the job that the instructor expects from them. Some people are the wide receivers going for the touchdown, others play the oboe. Doesn't matter. The pleasantries of a successful performance relies on teamwork. And if you think classical music is not contemporary or relevant in the way sports can be, I challenge you to listen to a little Symphony No. 5 in C Minor during those last couple laps around the track, or turn up Carmina Burana: O Fortuna during your next set. But I mean, really turn up it up; listen for those subtle strings, set your speakers or earphones to "rock show." For me, that song that gets me up the mountain is, fittingly,  In the Hall of the Mountain King. Everyone I hear it's anthem, it's a sprint fest on my bike. And Bach's Cello Suite No. 1 in G is purely orgasmic. Enjoy.

Right, that's all for now my friends. That the Holidays are upon us, I thank you and wish you all happy celebrations. You know I would be there with you if I could.

Love,
-A

Japan - Non Sequitur Photo Blog

こにちわ and good evening!

Have you ever taken a snap shot. Odds are you have. Recording moments in time by snap shot is as practiced and ubiquitous as cups of morning coffee in America. I have many pictures stored on electronic devices, and not all that I have the time or care to slop over casually onto publishing sites - but nice pictures all the same that do deserve some home somewhere. And what more appropriate place to show off all these photos than in a blog post that really has nothing to do about anything except for the part that that states I would like to share them with you. Keeping it simple today folks.

I am amazed everyday at the agility and balance of the young Japanese youth. Even in semi soggy sand, these kindergarten children  keep a steady balance across the yard on these hand made walking sticks. I think there is another blog post where I pictured another youth climbing a planted bamboo shoot straight up about ten feet. Again, the young athleticism in this country is remarkable. 

This one I did post on Instagram recently, although I love it so much here it is again. Unicycles are surprisingly common in Japan elementary schools, the single wheeled cycles are racked right in the entrance of the schools, right next to the little kid's shoe lockers. I imagine they have much practice with riding one, so I find it so strange that no one uses unicycles as transportation. I guess its all for fun out here. 

One of my early morning schools is on route past an informal recycling facility. Or, maybe its a storage place for all the miscellaneous glass, I'm not sure. But whatever it is, it fascinates me and compels my attention every time I cycle past it. What I mean is that I live in a country that is hyper aware of disposal contaminates, and very well practiced in hygiene protocol - in every school office, including the teacher's lounge and behind the principal's desk, there is a sink station to brush teeth and wash hands. Trash is practically non existent in the streets or even in the homes really. So its hard to come across random junk piles like these. Impossible really. In fact, they are so rare that I had to sneak over a wired fence to snag a good picture for you.

Really, I don't go crazy for chocolate. An ex girlfriend once told me that there are two kinds of people on this Earth, people who like flavors, and people who like chocolate. I am apparently of the former. Still, its not like I loath chocolate. That's my small tangent into an explanation for this very rare Ecuadorian chocolate that happen to come upon me by chance through a friend. Its always a treat to explain the idea of multi-nationalism to the Japanese. "Yes, I am American. But, I am also have Mexican and half Ecuadorian." The resulting expression on their face is priceless. Anyways, its not that surprising that my friend remembered and gifted (which, on a side note, is a huge altruistic economy here) accordingly, when you speak in Japan, people listen earnestly.

I believe it was the last post, if not the one before last, that I remarked on the strong sun rays that penetrate my bedroom in the morning hours. If I sleep the opposite way, this is what I see along the inner walls of my bedroom. The edges, lines, and agreeing angles of this photo are really what got to me that morning. If you look to the bottom edges of the sun squares, you can notice a little bit of grating. The effect is much more pronounced in person. Its from the grated wiring that reinforces the glass sliding doors leading to the balcony from where the sun enters the room. Its too bad the photo couldn't capture these lines more clearly, the grid effect was truly cool and reminded me of those early cyberspace conceptual designs from the minds of the mid eighties, where imaginations envisioned the net as some infinite three dimensional grid of intersecting lines spotted with the occasional cube or floating sphere.  

My morning commute traffic. Or. as my friend Max said, "rush hour."

This is essentially the best snack that I've found in Tosa city. Edible wasabi-seaweed paper. I like to put this in everything from homemade onigiri to miso soup and everything in-between.

Of course, I'm no saint. And alcohol is so entwined in social culture here, even more so than my university days if you can imagine that. It might have been twenty years ago in Japan that you could charge up a tab, play a round of golf, hit the sauna for a few hours, and charge it all to the company as a business expense. Know what I have found has changed in twenty years? Only that you have to now pay for your own round of golf when your boss calls you in for a "meeting." If there was ever a reason to learn the Japanese adopted Chinese characters called Kanji for me, its to learn to good sake from the mediocre. 

The guardian to the beech.

Hanabi is the Japanese word for fireworks, but its not as simple as that. There are several, many different types of fireworks in Japan that range in size, shapes, and colors. If you were, however, to categorize them all, you would come in line with four major sets. First, you have the Warimono. These are the "simple,"  single exploding outward types that appear as chrysanthemums in their circular design. They are usually one huge explosion that dominate the sky. Then you also have the Pokamono which make a sound as they pop in the sky and release multiple small wavy bands of streams in all directions, making for what looks like a head of frizzy hair. Hanwarimono is a conjunction of the first two types. You can think of these as smaller bursts of chrysanthemums, a small collection of bursting circles in an array of colors. That is what you see in the picture above. Then finally you have your Katamono. These are great if you can see them in person. I've been used to seeing them at festivals and family gatherings. Basically anyplace where you would expect both children and fireworks together. The style is arguably the most impressive and the most novel because when these suckers burst against the night sky, they incredibly light up images of octopuses or rabbits or even famous manga characters. Its all rather impressive really, the ingenuity to engineer an image after an explosion.

With Halloween passing us by, I would be remiss if I didn't remind you that I came back to this store right before the holiday to find that someone had bought the mask, and had dressed up as (I can only imagine) an Asian Barack Obama. 

Not sure what happened on the 29th that made this cat so grumpy, but he's not having a good time.

Lastly, we should all have been lucky enough to see some really spectacular moons phases in the last couple weeks. Here in Japan at least, the moon was shining as bright as the sun.

That's all for now my friends. There is still more to come, and more posts with more unifying themes and more muttering rants about nothing (if your into that sorta stuff). For now, I must collect my sleeping back, its the only blanket that combats the oncoming winter cold, and some mornings even it's goose down filling is just barely enough to ward off the frost.

Rest well and good night! Love,
-A