Not ambidextrous

Luckily for me there are at least two ways of knitting. Also luckily for me, my fabulous Finnish friend Heidi took it upon herself to make sure I could knit 'continental' last year.

Its lucky because last night in a momentary lapse of concentration whilst julienning carrots I accidentally julienned my knuckle too. All digits are intact, and I don't need stitches (huzzah!) but the offending index finger is all wrapped in in iodine and a big ol' elastoplast.

So far my supportive friends have have had the following kind things to say about it: klutz, idiot, spazz (also, 'now you have spazzy hands like Seth!'), moron, 'there's no blood in the stir-fry is there?', 'only you, you spazz' and so on and so forth...

*sigh*

Smallville, small problems

Jon and I have been enjoying Smallville during these dark, cold wintery days.

Some observations:
1) All the 'teenagers' are clearly being played by people in their mid twenties, and furthermore one of them in particular sports rather pronounced laughter lines. Now, even if you insist on playing [American] football every day, is the sun really so strong in that particular town in Kansas to cause such bad premature ageing?
2) Spot the cameos/extras/pre-fame actors. Ones of note? Evangeline Lilly in the background at a party, Adam Brody being typically, well, angst-y.

In addition, Jon and I have started a new game entitled 'Stuff Clark Needs'. So far we'd recommend he gets hold of a cellphone and an umbrella...

Post exam stress relief - highly recommended

Exam yesterday. The JLP (Japanese language proficiency) exam to be precise. Having done a past paper last week and completely flunked it I was trying to decide if it was even worth bothering with. Support from various areas was good, ranging from the argument that it was after all a day off work out in Beppu, that it was good practice for next year, and most unmotivatingly that it was really easy and I should have no problems. Of course the latter (from at least two people) would have been more reassuring if they hadn't have been fluent in the language themselves... as it is I've only just learned to read in a reasonably flowing manner, having spent the last few months sounding out each pathetic syllable and having to constantly correct myself when I work out what the word actually is. Anyway, confident in the likelihood that the test would be excrutiating, I decided to go on the basis that I hadn't been to Beppu in the day before and moreover I quite fancied visiting Monkey Mountain.

The test was ok-ish and bizarrely fun as we watched the invigilators trying to follow the very stringent instructions in pamplets, holding up yellow cards then red cards then yellow - no! that should have been a red one, gomenesai, another yellow one, in antics that most closely resembled a soccer match between Italy and Brasil.

After the test, Katie and I headed out to Monkey mountain for our quota of ooh-ing and aahh-ing. The story of this place is quite a good one. It was set up in 1952 by the ex-mayor of Oita City in response to a growing problem of these little guys raiding farms and destroying rice crops. He lured them in by, and I quote from the pamphlet "scattering bait and blowing a conch (a kind of shell horn)". Now there are over a thousand monkeys - all of them Japanese macaques - living here in a pretty large area stretching up into the mountain. They're all used to the tourists that visit in their droves so the little guys just appear from nowhere and run round your feet like nutters. After heeding some good advice from the large board at the entrance "don't feed the monkeys. Don't make fun of the monkeys" and from Jorge, who had a close encounter when he visited "don't make eye contact, man", we spent far longer than we should have done just watching them. Katie put it best when she said that some of the interest in them is because they are so similar to humans, but unlike humans seem to have no sense of embarrassment, so when leap and nearly miss, watching them slide down a tree as their grip fails is as funny as when they pick themselves up and do exactly the same thing again. I guess animals bring out the childish fascination in all of us, but I don't think I'd have gone quite as far as the pamphlet, which in an act of translation that only becomes wrong the more you look at it, says that "in 1977 thirty of the monkeys were given to Italy and ten to Korea the next year. The monkeys have contributed to friendly relations with these countries." Now, they're cute, but fulfilling a diplomatic role? I just don't buy it...

winter cycling and warm hearts

Nothing warms the heart quite like the sight of a monk, dressed in full regalia, run a red light on a moped.

Happy days.

Log burning fires and the lack thereof

Its cold now. I know I commented on this last time, but I'm going to say it again. Of course, this is all comparative, the temperature is probably only 7 or 8 degrees or so, but its been raining, so it feels a little chillier.
Japanese houses don't have central heating (maybe they do in Hokkaido, but I'm told around here C.S. is a rarity), so after a few months of natural air-con (i.e. opening the windows) it has once again become too something to do that.
So, last week on went the air-con and my skin instantly dried up. Nice. Now starts my twice annual hunt for good moisturizer...
My students have been telling me about something called a kotatsu, from which it seems people rarely stray during the colder months. This is actually just a low table with a heater attached to the underside, so it performs the dual function of keeping food warm and one's tootsies toasty. I'd seen pictures before, but it only twigged what these things actually did last week, so this is in effect a public service announcement. The beauty of it you see, is that in addition to the heater, people put a futon over the table as well, to keep the hot air in. I mention this, because as Jack posted a video of the first log fire of the season at the Mapledurwell ranch on his blog a couple of weeks back, I have been feeling a yearning towards warm winter nights. I'm obviously not allowed to burn stuff here, so I'm going to investigate the Japanese option on Monday.

Weather report

Today is the first Saturday in November. I'm not at work because I have the 'flu/cold, I've been feeling pretty icky and bless her, Sachi our manager has rung twice to ask if she can take me to the hospital. I'm coming to the conclusion that riding out illness is not the done thing here, that you should go to the hospital/doctor at the first sign of illness. Still, its only been a few days, so I'm going all western and sleeping, drinking hot lemon, taking hot baths and trying not to think about letting our students down, or worse, making them take Multi-Media lessons.
Had I not been feel a bit grotty I would be enjoying the glorious sunshine and warm temperatures right now. Coming from a country where the seasons seem to have merged into one rather nondescript season, characterized only by a slight increase in temperature or marginally improved chance of snow, I find the seasons rather fascinating.
I always mark the beginning of winter by the time in which I can no longer wear flip flops. This was only two weeks ago (and for Katie only a couple of days ago - she was even less impressed with the necessary change of footwear than me, and I'm pretty anti-socks). Its still warm - I can go out without a sweater if its in the middle of the day.
Autumn is here though; it has crept up on us, quietly and gradually. So gradually that none of us really noticed until the socks appeared again. The air has lost its humidity, now it is crisp and fresh. It gets cool much earlier, we can leave the windows open for ventilation rather than having to keep them closed to help the efforts of the air conditioning. Last night I had to shut the windows because it was too cool. It's darker too - when I leave work at 5.40 we are into dusk; sepia toned sunlight (if we're lucky) and optional headlights. The rice has been harvested and the fields have been rotivated already, allowing time for the ground to rest until the next sowing of the seeds. And, typically Japanese, the fire engines' sirens can be heard more regularly. The dry spell of autumn is coupled with more house fires, and the fire brigade seems to be working nightly now. News of serious fires are transmitted by a loud siren; 1 drone for the all clear, 2 for fires nearby, 3 for ones far away. The wailing is disconcerting on a still, cool night and kind of heightens the drama of it all - a few times I've rushed outside, expecting to see half of Nakatsu ablaze, but I'm guessing the fire brigade just relish having some actual work to do (the last time I saw them, it was in March and they were cruising around halfheartedly reminding people not to set fire to things).

Pan- Pacific Career Advice

I'm in a slump. So's Laura. This makes me feel better.
Until last year I thought I knew what I wanted to do with myself - PhD, teaching, yay. Now, I'm really not sure that's what I'd be happiest doing; keeping up to date with positions advertised at various Universities, Colleges and educational supplements I'm realizing that entering the world of academia gives you very little choice as far as locations are concerned. I don't want to end in living in Coventry or Aberwythstythhwyth (????) no matter how good the job is. Once I'd realized this, admitted this (these two stages occurred months apart - denial is a bitch) and come to terms with it, I've been feeling rather unsettled.
I'm certainly not complaining about my current situation. I'm loving living in Japan, with all its quirks, differences, similarities and food. Its great to have a set working week and two CONSECUTIVE days off WITH Jon. I love only having one job to think about and I love seeing students progress.
Even so, being overly thoughtful about most things does mean that I've been wondering what I should be doing long term. So, during one of our phone dates, Laura and I were chatting at length about this and after we agreed to exchange emails with our respective non-life plans. I have to say there's nothing like having a friend who knows you well suggest things, plots and plans that should have seemed like natural and logical choices all along. Now I have my plan(s) I have to figure out a way to combat my biggest hurdle - my tendency to let imagination rule over practicality - and just GET ON WITH IT.
Go on, phone a friend.

Trust Fun

A few months back now (notice how I've decided to not bother with an apology about the lack of recent posts?) the Mapledurwell clan were visiting and we went on a little jolly to Nagasaki. We had decided that dinner was probably a good idea, but as with any city you're unfamiliar with we had no idea where to even start looking. We located the entertainment/food district and were still wandering around, hoping that a restaurant would magically appear from nowhere right there in front of us on the sidewalk. Jon decided to ask a random guy working in one of the many pachinko parlours. He clearly had no idea what we were talking about, and the longer i watched him and Jon talking the younger I realised he probably was. By the time we left I concluded he was probably no more than 16. In the midst of this confusion, a [very] drunk salaryman emerged and with good (though inebriated) English he told us that he knew a great restaurant and that we should follow him. I could sense three reactions to this:
1/Relief - from the child working in the pachinko place
2/Interest mixed with slight apprehension - me and Jon, slightly familiar with this kind of harmless drunkenness, but nevertheless a little unsure of where we were going, especially as the prostitutes down this street all seemed to know this guy...
3/Suspicion - the Clan. Who the hell is this guy and where the hell is he taking us?
Of course, we needn't have worried, Drunken Salaryman personally escorted us to an amazing restaurant that we would never have found in a million years, spoke to the waitress, sorted us out with a table, bid us adieu and stumbled off into the night.
If that had been London, he'd have walked off with all our valuables and we'd all probably be indentured somewhere in North Korea by now. Trust is fun.

Butter wouldn't melt, eh?

Butter wouldn't melt, eh? Some of the Nova kinder kids
Originally uploaded by emkuntze.

I'm knackered. After work last night I decided to head for the gym. Its like many other gyms, in that its a very different place in the evening. I'm used to going in the afternoon or early evening, pre-dinner when, as you would expect, the place is mostly frequented by the retired who use the gym as an excuse to do what they do best; put the world to rights, have a good natter and spend hours in the baths and sauna. At night, its full of blokes lifting weights that look bigger and heavier than they are, professional women in designer gear and die-hard swim fanatics. I did, therefore, feel slightly out of place. I solved this problem by the toddler method, i.e. I believed if I couldn't see them, they couldn't see me, so I took my glasses off and everywhere looked instantly blurry-er, and a little less like a Soviet training facility.

Had a fabulous run. Fabulous, insofar as I was so busy trying to get the connection sorted out in my headphones that when I actually looked at the display I had run considerably further than I thought I could. So please, send you faulty headsets this way, I may yet have a use for them...

Today has been pretty tiring, partly because of my fitness hangover, and partly because I had Ataru the human atomic bomb this morning (remarkably restrained I might add, and to be fair, he may be genki as the day is long, but he's never, ever a chore), inadvertantly taught the same lesson twice, forgetting what I had just said, and confusing it with something I had told the other class earlier, and to top it all I had my new Kinder class last lesson.

Boy oh boy.

My other kinder class has two little girls in, one of whom is 3 and has the attention of someone who is, well, 3 and the other one gets distracted to say the least, so in any given lesson I could well have two small children looking with great interest at a spot on the wall. This class was somewhat different. The bell went off so I wandered to the kids room. I could hear me coming from the shouts of "Its Emma K!" and much squealing. Two of them dragged me into the kids room (remarkable strength for a [tiny] four year old) before I could take my shoes off. Bless. 40 minutes later I was ready to drop off in the staff room.

Only two more days until a lie-in.

Potty about pottery

Its my cuppu! Much better than the last effort, methinks...
Originally uploaded by emkuntze.

Oh er....! Today was a good 'un. Up early (okay, not so good. The humidity is making me very, very lethargic), jumped on the ol' mama chari, picked up Katie and headed up to out very first pottery class. Bit of a slog up the bastard hill (they never look as awful as they feel, do they?), but rewarded with stunning views and a distinct air of calm. Turns out there were only the three of us at this morning's class, plus Hatabe-san, Mrs Hatabe-san (I'm ashamed to say I've forgotten the lovely lady's name), and a couple of helpers/offspring/spare bodies.

We set to making tea cups (Japanese style, so no handles. Much easier for us novices), and between the soothing action of rolling out long ropes of clay, the faint smell of elephant coils/mediterranean herbs and the lovely iced tea and strange orange sweets bought to us mid way through, it was a fabulously relaxing way to ease oneself into a Thursday morning.

It was, therefore, a total bummer to have to go to work straight after.

Photos.... coming slowly but surely

I'm a little slow on the uptake really. A bit slow to post posts. A bit slow to get my flickr account sorted out. Did that the other day, but true to form it sat with one photo on it for about three days before Jack pointed out that there was in fact no link from said photo to blog. Have sorted that out now, but still have only 5 photos.

I'll get there eventually. Its the humidity. Perhaps.

my little sake cup

my little sake cup
Originally uploaded by emkuntze.

Ooh er! Well, about a month or so ago Katie and I went in search of all things pottery related in a town called Karatsu, just west of Fukuoka. We wanted to see the famous potters at work, watch stuff being cooked in big kilns and perhaps secretly hoped a pottery master would offer us both an all expenses paid apprenticeship.... Actually it was a bit of a wash out and weather wise, literally so, as it pissed with rain for most of the day and I couldn't fathom how the umbrella I nicked off Jon managed to open the wrong way every time... also, the 'kilns' turned out to be little galleries displaying beautiful but extortionately priced cups and the like. Niether Katie or I have any kind of understanding or appreciation for the different styles of pottery and I'm afraid that any admiration for what we saw was more in the vein of "bloody hell, 4 man (40,000 yen) for a plate? That's two hundred quid! And it looks like the one I got from the Hyaku Yen (100yen) shop last Thursday!". Yes, we are philistines...

What would have been a very disappointing day, turned out to be brilliant, thanks to the misinterpretation of the lady working at the station. After the kiln incident, we went to the station to see if there was anywhere within walking distance where we could actually see stuff being made. I think we managed the words 'see' and 'pottery'. She very kindly got on the phone and minutes later and with map in hand, we arrived at a little shop near some boutiques in a shopping mall. The lovely lady there was under the impression we wanted to make stuff and had set up a little table in the corner. Being a bit knackered, wet and clean out of any new words, we did as we were told and set to making little sake cups. Think both our efforts were looked at with much amusement and we were shown off as the in-house entertainment to any customers who happened to come through the shop whilst we were in there. Anyway, I was quite pleased with the 'rustic' quality of mine, which reminded me rather eerily of a similar pot I made when I was in junior school. Nice to see my motor skills have progressed since then....

So, obviously we weren't around to pick up said cups after the firing, so the lovely lady posted them to us. Katie's cup had kanji on it, kanji that Kumi reckons is wrong.... Mine's more wobbly than I remembered but does the job nicely.

In further developments the ever well connected Mutsuko found out about a pottery class in Nakatsu that is open pretty much every day. Mutsuko kindly took me and Katie to check it out on Thursday and we're all really inspired (even Mutsuko, who had gone in chaffeur/interpreter/good company mode thinks she's going to have a go). The owner Hatabe-San actually trained in Karatsu, as fate would have it and his wife speaks English very well and crochets too! First class on Thursday. Nice one.

5 questions

1. Why do I always forget the one thing I go to the supermarket for? (In today's case, the said forgotten item was some washing up liquid. This may be that when I got to the supermarket I realised that for the first time I could read the sign. I got so excited that I forgot most of things I went in for)

2. What's better, brown basmati rice, or Japanese short grain? Despite my love of the nutty wholesomeness of the former, I'm erring on the side of the Japanese stuff. It's proper oishii and what's more, you can't make sushi from basmati. So there.

3. Why does humidity sometimes make you sleepy, sometimes make you sparky? Today I flitted between the two, which must have been unnerving for those around me...

5.Why do we (and I suppose I mean Americans, as us Brits don't use either term) park on the driveway and drive on the parkway? It makes my life as an English teacher very complicated...

4. Why can't I count? Is there a condition equivilant to dyslexia for numbers? I blame my random innumerexia on my brain's need to organise everything [helpfully] into some kind of formation or order or pattern... check out http://www.uksynaesthesia.com/. I'd be particularly interested to see if anyone out there also has a number line.... you'll know if you have one

Today's Numbers

3 the number of times I cycled up (and down) route 10 in the overly clement weather (phew-y, atsui!)
12 the number of minutes I managed on the stairmaster before my calves started twitching
14 the number of blueberries that went into my smoothie this morning
5 the number of sushi plates I gobbled at the Sakura Bowl sushi bar
2 the number of episodes of Desperate Housewives I watched
3 the number of lessons overtime I agreed to do today
5 the number of lessons of overtime I actually did today
30 the number of degrees it was today
3 the number of inches of scar on my brothers neck after his op this morning
0 the number of goals Japan scored against Croatia (boo)

Good Luck in your last exam Jack!!!

I am very, very full. Today has been rather a culinary education/marathon. This afternoon Kumi came round to teach me some cooking, Japanese style. Firstly we went to the good ol' supermarket to buy some groceries. This was great for three reasons, one Kumi's great company (she picked on a linguistic idiosyncracy I'd previously been blissfully unaware - I now know I say 'oi, oi, oi' when alarmed/suprised - and we both spent some time laughing hysterically as I walked into a sign, almost ran into/over several small children, almost dropped some vegetables, you get the idea); second she can read the signs, so for the first time I actually was sure of what I was buying, and third, she put loads of stuff in my trolley that I hadn't the faintest idea what to do with before today. Blinding.

After cooking said ingrediants (yum, yum) I hot footed it round to Mike and Miyuki's to teach her some Italian cooking (I learnt some Japanese stuff off her the other week and have been happily cooking it since). Brilliant fun, though now I'm pretty fatigued after effectively 7 straight hours of food related shinanigans...

In other news, finished knitting my socks today (1 project down, 2 more to finish). The closure is really nice, after several years of doing everything at once I'm getting finished projects!!! Love it. I even did Luke's birthday present (for March.... 2005). Jack, yours is next mate, after my other loose ends are tied up (or cast off.....)

Also, good vibes your way Jack - last exam tomorrow. Gambatte!

It's a tiny little felted dog...

... yes it is. Just don't try putting your actual dog through the washing machine. Aside from matters of shrinkage, I've heard that matted fur is a bitch to comb out.

Sod's Law is [also]...

...spending a good chunk of your evening writing a witty, verbose blog entry, to then hit the wrong button and lose the whole frickin lot.

Any additions welcome. Post below.

Sod's Law is...

... a day of glorious sunshine, balmy breezes and general clement-ness the day after your weekend, which was none of those things.

After our Nihongo lesson last week, Mutsuko stayed round for a cup of tea and some ice cream to watch an English language programme on NHK (the equiv of BBC). I was interested in this because my Japanese culinary guru Harumi Kurihara was in it. Basically Harumi (who's a cooler version of Delia or Martha) tries to learn English and every week she's in a different situation - this week's was in a restaurant - she has a go speaking then an english professor in the studio corrects her mistakes and good ol' Harumi has another go. It's a testament to the japanese spirit of 'gambatte' (do your best!), refreshing to see someone willing humiliate themselves and most of all great fun to watch, not only because some of her attempts are interesting to say the least ("I'd like soup, but I'd like it boiled", "boiled?", "yes, boiled soup") but also because every week she teaches a different recipe in english. I'm hooked.

Harumi's Japanese style guacamole

Mash up one ripe avocado with a little lemon juice, add 100g silken tofu and mash up a bit more. Add 3 tbsp cottage cheese, some ground black pepper and 2 tbsp mayonnaise. This is really good on grilled prawns or fish, and chicken I suppose (but being a pseudo-veggie I wouldn't know)

As if all this wasn't enough, immediately after Harumi there was a learning Spanish show, followed by a Thai language lesson. Surreal to say the least....

Aqua karate is for old ladies....

...old ladies who are ninjas!

So here's the scoop. Katie and I have been trying to go to the aqua karate class at our gym for about a month now. Several things have stood in our way: public holidays, notices written in japanese and, well, crapness. Tonight was the night though, so down we trotted and were even on time. Katie had mentioned that she'd seen a load of retired women walking up and down a swimming lane about the time of said class. Could that perchance be the karate? Maybe, but where were the high kicking ninja antics we'd been imagining? There must be another class.

It became apparent after we were joined in the designated lane by no less than six over sixtys that not only was this the right class, but we were probably engaging in something strictly reserved for the old or infirm. Much walking up and down of the lanes followed, with punching, kicking etc etc, and to begin with I thought it was all a bit half arsed. It was only during the first of my triple punch/kick combos that it dawned on me that I was frickin knackered, and moreover, the ninja grandmas were not. The class ended quickly and before we knew what was happening we appeared to have started another class involving long tubular floats and a lot of balancing (or, in my case, not). Before we knew it the instructor had changed and we were being given dumbells that you fill up with water for added resistence. More walking and shennanigans with said dumbells. Then instructor guy (who had been cracking us up with his efforts give the instructions in English, despite our assurances that nihongo was fine and good for us) says "three minute break and then massage". We crack up. They crack up. Everyone cracks up. These guys are well funny! Three minutes later, it became evident that massage is in fact a very real part of water aerobics here...

The moral of the story? Don't cuss out the old dears walking lengths of the swimming pool, they're hard as nails.

Don't worry its solar powered...

Had two of my favourite students this afternoon and as they're both chatty and up for a laugh and as I'd spent a good part of last night watching Lost (love it, love it) I decided to focus a lesson on the 'if you were stranded on a desert island' dilemma. After a little while of the 'what ifs' and the 'maybes' I shifted gear to the question, "if you could take five things to a desert island, what would you take?".

A few moments of comtemplative silence followed. Cue student A: "I'd take a digital camera". Why? "Because I can take loads of photos and when I get rescued I can open a gallery in New York". Very entrepeneurial. But, I point out, what happens when the batteries run out, and more to the point, how are you going to print the photos? Good point. A few more moments of silence. "I'd have sun energy". What, I ask, you mean solar power? "Yes, Yes! Solar Power!". I'll let this one go, I think and swiftly ask student B. Student B has upto now been deep in thought. Cue lightbulb above head. "I'd take a rice cooker". A rice cooker? But how will you plug it in? A huge grin "Solar Power!". Don't you need rice for a rice cooker? No problem, it seems that rice plants are easily grown. D'oh.

I can only conclude that my students have no shortage of imagination but would certainly suffer greatly from a technology shortage if ever stranded on the preverbial island.

I know i'm slack, but my attention was on the sushi...

So, i think we can all conclude that my consistency at posting on this blog is not particularly great and indeed shows a rather worrying level of commitment. Reprimand over.

If you want to catch up on some cultural craziness and translation quirks, I'm sure you've checked out Jon's website. If you haven't, you should. It's better than mine...

Right then. I've spent a happy couple of weeks settling into work, being overwhelmed and simultaneously very excited by the strangeness of everything Japanese and other stuff. Now I have my gym membership, a Japanese teacher and shampoo that tames my frizzy mop I'm happy to wax lyrical a little. So I will.

I've been having a great time pottering about trying to make food. Best sushi eff-fah (said in welsh accent to highlight this fact) on Friday. If you're so inclined, here's what you do:

Cook a cup of Japanese short grain rice (weight when uncooked) - it's gotta be Japanese, otherwise its not glutenous enough and will be, quite frankly, shit. When its done leave it to cool and add about half a cup of sushi dressing which you make thus: a cup of sushi vinegar, 2 tbsp caster sugar and 2tbsp mirin. Heat it until the sugar dissolves and let it cool. Fold in the dressing to the rice and leave it until its warm/cool-ish. Lovely. Then get your nori sheets and rolling mat. For the innards I used prawns (sauteed in ginger), a rockety-mizuna-y leaf that i've yet to identify, some shiso leaves (seem to be a cross between mint and basil and shaped like stinging nettles) and some wasabi. Keep a tap running your fingers wet and spread a thin layer of rice over 4/5 of the nori. Put a very thin line of wasabi 1/3 of the way up. Then put a few ro-zuna (?) leaves, shredded shiso and chopped up prawn. Roll it tightly and seal the edges with a bit of water. Chop into 8 pieces with a sharp knife (run it under water in between slices to stop it sticking. Job's a goodun'.

is it a flag? - no they're my pants! a laundry dilemma

... to fill you in. japan has very strict (but usefully, unspoken) rules about etiquette. i've been doing some thinking and i've come to the conclusion that this is why they've remained so culturally homogeneous for so long. i'm not talking bowing, or tea ceremony stuff here, i'm talking pants.

pants. or panties if you don't speak brit, trousers are fine. its not the done thing to hang out your pants to dry (or bras for that matter) in a place where people can see them. as balconies are primarily used for drying clothes and airing futons and ours is on the first floor (2nd floor if you don't speak brit - keep up for christ's sake) this naturally causes me a problem when i need to dry my laundry. it seems blokes pants are fair game, which led me to wonder, how far can you take it? are girls' boxers ok? i'm thinking probably.

this strange train of thought first started chugging this morning as i was doing what seemed like a year's worth of handwashing and was pondering this drying dilemma with regards to tights. normally i'd be blissfully unaware of what anyone else was thinking at any given moment, but for two things. firstly i stick out like a sore thumb here and i still feel quite bad that our alarm clock was set for 11pm the other day instead of am, the problem being that we rolled in at one in the morning to find it'd been bleeping solidly for two hours (there are small children living everywhere around here) and secondly, when i decided that tights were in fact fair game, the three people working on the field/garden/allotment stopped what they were doing and stared.

at this point i did what any upstanding brit would do, went inside, drew the curtains, made a cup of tea, and pretended they were trousers. bollocks to diplomacy, i need dry tights by 5 this afternoon.

Rumble in the Jungle...?

so apparently the big news of the week so far (bear in mind that today is Tuesday) is that we had an earthquake here in Nakatsu yesterday. Ooh-eer. 2 or 3 on the richter scale, which is quite significant for these parts. of course I was asleep so didn't hear, see or indeed feel a thing...

in other news, plans to cycle to the onsen scuppered this morning because of piss poor weather. thought it was going to do something when i put the rubbish out this morning; it was very warm (too warm some might say) and the sky was black. not rocket science, you understand. it's pissing with rain now, big fat splodges. i'm thinking my bath might substitute well for natural hot springs...

There's something crawling up my wall...

Yes, there is. Turns out to be nothing more than a mere beetle. Thought for a moment it may have been a cockroach... far too small you see....

still, am slightly baffled that this wee thing should find its way into our flat, when there are no signs of spiders yet. Are there spiders here? They're bloody everywhere everywhere I've lived, so much so, that some of them even had names, so entrenched they were in their habitat.

Well, with the whole blog thing, better late than never I suppose, though there's late and five years after I meant to sort this thing out, so I'm not sure which is worse.

Anyway, I'm in Japan now, so it seemed a good enough reason to start waffling.

I'm not going to write any more here, as I've no idea how to get this up onto the screen. More when I know it works.