Yes, the rumors are true: most buildings in Japan do not have central heating. No basements, no furnaces, no warm-air registers, no real insulation. . . . The one winter I was halfway warm was when I lived on the north island, Hokkaido, where the structures are built for cold: the windows had double panes of glass, and a truck brought kerosene right to my door. A friend and co-worker of mine once wrote of Niigata: “Here, there are about two sweltering weeks of the year, and the rest of the time it’s freezing. But all the houses are built for those two weeks. . . .” Perish the thought that we should get too hot!
So in an effort to save on heating costs this winter, I invested in a low-end model of Japan’s traditional method of keeping warm: the kotatsu.

The kotatsu is a low table with electric heating coils on its underside. A blanket fits between the heating section and the top desk or board.
Most kotatsus aren’t placed halfway under a conventional desk like mine is in the above photo. I just do that to save space. I moved my computer down from the desk to the kotatsu. I sit on a legless chair called a zaisu. Your legs and feet go under the kotatsu, and the blanket fits around your waist. There’s a dial to adjust the heat up or down.

Here's the view from the other side. Yes, I know the upper and lower blankets' patterns and colors clash something awful. I went with what I had. Yes, that's my Buffy calendar above the zaisu.

The problem with the kotatsu is that you're so toasty warm sitting there that you don't want to get up for anything. You plan out all the things you're going to do when you stand up someday.

But this is usually what happens. This is me diligently answering e-mail and writing tons of stories.
And here’s a recently-discovered glimpse of the past, courtesy of our friend Chris:

The horror! The horror! This would have been in the late seventies. I hated haircuts; Mom hated hair dangling over my eyes. Our compromise was that she cut off anything that dangled over my eyes. This was the ghastly result. (Why didn't anyone tell me I looked like that? We had plenty of paper bags I might have worn over my head and thus had a social life. . . .)
Okay, that’s quite enough of that. I don’t think there’s anything more to be said for right now. I’ll just leave quietly. Back to business next time!