“Soon, you're going to have to move out!” cried my neighbor upon seeing the largest tomato plant known to mankind, or at least known in my neighborhood.

    One tiny 9-inch plant, bought for $1.25 in the spring, has already taken over much of my rose bed, covering much of other plants, and is well on its way to the front door.

    Roses require a good deal of care, and if it weren't for the pleasure they give, it wouldn't be worth the work. As it is, I have a garden full of sweet-smelling roses for most of the year. bushes must be pruned(剪枝) in early spring, leaving ugly woody branches until the new growth appears a few weeks later. It was the space available(可用的) in the garden that led me into planting just one little tomato plant. A big mistake.

    Soil conditions made just perfect for roses turn out to be even more perfect for tomatoes. The daily watering coupled with full sun and regular fertilizing(施肥) have turned the little plant into a tall bush. The cage I placed around it as the plant grew has long since disappeared under the thick leaves.

    Now the task I face in harvesting the fruit is twofold; First, I have to find the red ones among the leaves, which means I almost have to stand on my head, and once found I have to reach down and under, pick the tomatoes and withdraw(缩回) my full fist without dropping the prize so dearly won. I found two full-blown white roses completely hidden as I picked tomatoes in June, but they were weak and the leaves already yellow for lack of light.

    Here I am faced with a painful small decision: To tear up a wonderful and productive tomato plant that offers up between ten and twenty ripe sweet tomatoes each day or say goodbye to several expensive and treasured roses. Like Scarlett in Gone With the Wind, I'll think about that tomorrow.

    The Peales were a famous family of American artists. Charles Willson Peale is best remembered for his portraits of leading figures of the American Revolution. He painted portraits of Franklin and Jefferson and over a dozen of George Washington. His life-size portrait of his sons Raphaelle and Titian was so realistic that George Washington reportedly once tipped his hat (脱帽打招呼) to the figures in the picture.

    Charles Willson Peale gave up painting in his middle age and devoted his life to the Peale museum, which he founded in Philadelphia. The world's first popular museum of art and natural science mainly covered paintings by Peale and his family as well as displays of animals in their natural settings Peale found the animals himself and found a method to make the exhibits more lifelike. The museum's most popular display was the skeleton (骷髅) of a huge, extinct elephant, which Peale unearthed on a New York farm in l801.

    Three of Peale's seventeen children were also famous artists. Raphaelle Peale often painted still lives of flowers, fruit, and cheese. His brother Rembrandt studied under his father and painted portraits of many famous people, including one of George Washington. Another brother, Rubens Peale, painted mostly landscapes and portraits.

    James Peale, the brother of Charles Willson Peale, specialized in miniatures (小画像). His daughter Sarah Miriam Peale was probably the first professional female portrait painter in America.

    A young woman carrying a three-year-old child got on a bus. The conductor hurried to give her a warm welcome and then kindly asked the other passengers to make more room for the woman and her child. On seeing this, people were surprised and began to talk. "You know this conductor used to be very rude. Now suddenly he has changed his bad behavior, "said a middle-aged man.

    "Yes, he should be praised and we must write a letter to the company," said a second passenger. "That's right," another lady said, "I wish a newspaper reporter were here so that more people could learn from this conductor.”

    Just then a gentleman who looked like a teacher turned to the conductor and said, "Excuse me, but can I know your name, please? Your excellent service must be praised..."

    Before he could open his mouth, the three-year-old child sitting on the young woman's lap interrupted, "I know his name. I call him Dad."

    On Thursday night my two adult children took us out to dinner as our daughter lives in Bathurst and she will be there for Father's Day with her husband's side of the family. Two of our grandchildren were able to join us.

    Having pre-celebrated my Father's Day and it being on our minds, my wife asked this question only this morning:

    "Do you remember anything about your father?"

    While this subject had come up before, however, the question had not been put so bluntly(直率的). I answered "No. My only memory is of the few photos outside." You see, my father died when I was only four years old.

    Many people have lost their father early in life and it is easy to feel somewhat sorry for having to deal with such a situation, especially when the death has occurred when you are at an early age. On reflection, I think I do not remember anything because he passed away when he was a member of the Royal Australian Air Force. He was a Corporal(下士) doing land based duties, however, a medical condition took his life. It was 1942.

    The 2nd World War was in full battle and Australia was being attacked. My Mum and I with my younger brother, were living with my grandparents and I can only imagine the emotional circumstances that existed in the household at that time. Probably not something that would leave a memory.

    What I would like to say at this time, as the question is often asked, "What did you learn from your father?" The thing I learnt from his passing, at the age of 28, is a love of life. What I do remember is growing up wondering if I would live to his age, and after I did, thinking each year the bonus(津贴) of life I had been blessed with when compared to my father.

    I have sometimes felt disappointment in not knowing my father but life has moved on. However, can I say to those who do have fathers, celebrate today with him and return him all the love and happiness he has given to you.

    Back in 1988, I was working at the University of Bonn in Germany as a research fellow. I took some time off in early May to visit a friend, who was the director of a museum in Viterbo, in central Italy. I set out by train, which crossed the Swiss border to reach Zurich, winding through valleys and along hillsides, and entering tunnels and making its way through the Swiss Alps. The scenery was so beautiful.

    The train then crossed the Italian border before passing through Milan and Florence, then finally stopping in Rome. I was lucky, as my hotel was close to the railway station. The next morning, I had a coffee at a nearby café and eagerly set out to visit as many of the famous Roman landmarks as possible.

    The following day I headed back to the train station, intending to take a short train ride to Viterbo to meet up with my friend. When I arrived at the station and attempted to locate the correct platform, I quickly realized that the station was closed for an upgrade (升级). For a moment my mind went blank and did not know what to do. My biggest problem was my luggage—my suitcase and hand luggage were so heavy that I couldn't move about easily. As I don't speak Italian, I could not ask anyone for instructions. I dragged my suitcase about 100 meters to a nearby motor mechanics. A tall, strong man of about 50 years of age was working there and I excused myself and asked where the nearest station was. I am sure that he did not understand me properly but he could easily guess that I was looking for a station. He replied, but I did not understand.

    He smiled, wiped his hands and said something, which I guessed to mean "come along". So I dragged my suitcase along and followed him. He opened the door of his car, motioned to me to get in and then drove for a few minutes to the next station. I got out, unloaded my luggage, then shook his hand with thanks. He smiled back and drove away.

    There was no time to hug or exchange names  I understood he was busy and in the middle of his work. I was moved so much by his generosity that I have never forgotten him.

The Kendama World Cup

Old-fashioned fun is making a comeback!

Many kids are putting down their electronic devices and picking up an ancient toy. It is called a kendama, and it possibly dates back to the 16th century.

The kendama is a small wooden hammer with three cup-shaped ends and a spike on top. A wooden ball with a center hole is attached by string to the hammer. The goal is to make the ball land in a cup or on the spike. It sounds simple, but there are over 1,000 kendama techniques and tricks to master.

The game's popularity began to grow after the Japan Kendama Association was started in 1975. Today all ages participate in various competitions, including the Kendama World Cup(KWC).

The two-year-old event, which opens in Hatsukaichi, attracts people from all over the world. Players choose 10 different tricks from an approved list. They are then awarded points corresponding to the level of each trick.

A new Kendama World Cup winner will be named tomorrow in this popular sporting event.