Even people who know next-to-nothing about Japan probably know about the cherry blossoms. These fragile pink flowers are more than just part of the landscape, they're part of the culture.

Fifty weeks of the year, the cherry trees are commonplace and unremarkable. But once the spring comes, their gnarled black branches bloom into a billion-petal tapestry. The Japanese, exhausted by the gloomy winter and overtime (the Japanese fiscal year ends in March), head for the parks. There, for two or three glorious weekends, a symphony of pale pink blossoms hangs delicately overhead. The visual spectacle is matched only by the outpouring of good vibes—sakura season is, in essence, a national picnic. My own culture has no equivalent of this. We are the poorer for it, I'm afraid.

Kimi Center's annual hanami party for their staff and customers fell on a workday for me, but I managed to rework my Sunday schedule and headed off to the designated park. Unfortunately... Well, let's just say it was a really big park. A really big, really crowded park. I had no choice but to wander around snapping photos until I found them. Mercifully, three hours, 93 photos and a sunburn later, I did. And all was well.

Usually I write a little narrative for my pictures, but this time around, I'll let you make up your own. Enjoy the hanami season! It'll be over before you know it.

Your pet sees only the emptiness of your soul.

It may not be obvious what you're looking at here, so let me take the opportunity to answer some of your questions.

Yes, that is a $600 automatic dogfood dispenser with a built-in webcam.

Yes, it's called "iSeePet."

Yes, it has a button labeled "Cat."

Yes, that's me on the computer monitor on the left, taking this photo.

Yes, in the background, those are pictures of cheerful Japanese businesswomen watching their dogs eat.

Yes, on their cellphones.

Yes, this is exactly how it's displayed in the store.

If you have any other questions, the answer is 'yes.'

At long last, spring has finally come to Toyko.

Who wants some strawberry mochi cakes?

Eat us! Eat us!

Yes... You will buy our Grapes of Wrath-inspired line of casual wear...

Kimi Information Center, the gaijin-friendly organization that helped me find an apartment and which supplies me with private English students, called me this morning. Would I be available to take on a new student on Wednesday evenings? I hesitated a moment, but said yes.

Like most Nova teachers, I work weekends—my days off are Tuesdays and Wednesdays. I've already got a student on Tuesday nights, so my acceptance of this new one means that my daily schedule is effectively locked down. I'll be on the clock seven days a week from now on.

The work itself is easy. Many of these students just want to have an everyday conversation, in English, for 60 minutes. They're willing to pay quite handsomely, too, which is what makes the work so difficult to turn down. Kimi sets a base rate of about $25 U.S. an hour, which is actually on the low end. Some teachers I know make twice that. I probably could too, if I showed a little more initiative, but I like the fact that my Kimi students meet me in Ikebukuro, usually five minutes from where I live. Your $60/hour students expect you to come to them.

For those of you playing along at home, yes, this means exactly what you think it does. Acquire enough private students (not hard to do, with websites like 121 Sensei and Find-A-Teacher), and you can make $2000 or $3000 a month just for having a few hour-long conversations each day. No day job required.

But there is a downside. Now that I have fixed commitments seven days a week, I've pretty much eliminated the possibility of taking a 2-day trip to Hiroshima or hanging out all afternoon with friends. It's not like I was doing any of those things before, mind you. But now I can't. I'm gradually turning my lack of a life into money.

I just hope I can buy it back when I need it.