Oni Wa Soto

I can't believe it's another Setsubun already. Which means tomorrow morning I will be spending a great deal of effort scraping smashed beans from the sidewalk because the soy beans sold here don't bake to the same crispy orbs that can be readily swept up. Fortunately my neighbor is a mellow musician who doesn't let smashed soy beans under his toes spoil his day. Unless he still harbors resentment over my failure to be here when the FedEx guy delivered his ominously big box.