La Japoneisa: The Aches and Pains of the Just

Every morning I wake up and I feel my hands ache with the first movements of my body’s dawn. They ache from kusakariing (cutting the grass), they ache from turning the soil over, from carrying baskets full of weeds, from chopping the bamboo or breaking the pieces of wood behind the chicken coop. And maybe even from cooking for twenty people at a time.
I think it was two weeks ago I was washing my face in the morning and was wondering why is feels as if I was scrubbing it. I thought that perhaps there is still some sand left in my hair from our trip to Sado and it fell onto my skin and stuck. But this sensation would now take place every morning and every evening. Every time I’d wash my face, I'd feel something scrubbing against my skin as if I was using a skin peeling implement of some sort. And last night I finally came to understand. My hands, after five weeks of hard work at the house and the fields, have become covered in mame (blisters, not beans) and the skin on my palms had toughened so much that it scrubs my face each time I try to wash it.
Palm readers, come and see the truth of the earth and life, read the history of universe scribbled onto my hands.