Popcorn and Sushi

Embracing the Whiteness

Apparently I am very, very white.

I made this startling discovery while in Barnes & Noble earlier this week, on an outing with Second Child, who may well be on the way to becoming as book-crazed (and lily-white) as his mother.  In the humor section, while looking for the new David Sedaris book--oddly, none of his books appear in this part of the store--I stumbled upon a book called Stuff White People Like. I flipped through it briefly and chuckled, with plans to visit the accompanying blog ASAP.

Back home at the computer, I couldn't help shouting out, "Ha!  Yes, that's me, all right!" every few minutes.  If you are white (and as late at discovering this blog as I was), you will certainly see yourself there, too.

Never mind that the blog and the book (which I'll be buying soon for very-white Husband) contain some entries which could leave you scratching your head, or even a bit angry (more than a bit for some humor-challenged folks, if some of the blog's comments are any indication).  Yes, it's probably true that it's more about social class than skin color.  But People, it's all in fun; it's not exactly meant as serious social commentary! And it's not all about you--or me.  I'm not, and never will be, a marathon runner, but by golly, I do love New Balance shoes.

In scrolling through the exhaustive list of whiteness markers, perhaps one of the funniest, least-expected entries--but one that must surely be the clincher for me--is the one about Japan.  Guilty, so guilty!

Necessary Diversions

Remember how I was gushing so recently about having reclaimed the old sewing mojo?  Well, as so often happens in my world, I have become distracted and am thus unable to do any sewing--though I'd like to, very much.  It's a forced distraction--entirely not my fault this time (as if it needed to be justified).  As some of you know, my family's life takes us from one part of the world to a very different, far-away part of the world several times a year.  All four of us are now in the States until August, and to reference the original intent of this post, I am thus away from my lovely Janome sewing machine, with which I had become re-acquainted during the construction of the Amy Butler purse (which I'm loving, by the way).

We've been here (Texas) for a week now, and actually, I hadn't had a chance to think much of sewing until today, when I went to Jane Brocket's blog for some book ideas.  I'm afraid I may have taken up a new and expensive book-buying habit--of course I already have a good book habit going, but now that I've placed my first order with Persephone Books, that's where the expensive part comes in.  Because I do not live in Britain. 

But back to sewing.  I'd like to make something this summer when I find the time, but that will happen only if I can get my dear grandmother's machine working.  I don't think it's been used in years; actually I know it hasn't been used in years.  We've just moved my grandmother into a retirement center, which was precisely not a happy thing for her.  But this move needed to happen--really.  So things have been somewhat stressful.  Sweaty walks with Husband and late-night solo yoga and reading have helped get my cortisol levels down after the strain of the past week, and I can't help but think that some sewing might be a nice idea as well.  If that doesn't happen, maybe First Child and I can finally learn to crochet (insert laughter at the mere thought of our learning something new during the summer). At any rate, some diversions are definitely in order.

Tea with Jeu de Paume

It's been months since I've bought a Jeu de Paume book.  Where I live, they can be hard to find.  I spotted this one recently in a shop and decided a few days later to make it mine, via Japanese Amazon (easy, peasy...).  Sometimes I save my Japanese-language mooks (magazine-books) for when I'm watching TV or on the phone with family, since I'm only looking at the pictures, after all. But this title was just right for a sit-down with tea yesterday afternoon when it was raining. 

You can see another lovely Jeu de Paume title here, in this very cool blog.  And if you don't want to bother with Amazon.jp, you can order these and other Japanese-language mooks from yesasia.com.  Fun!

Return of the Sewing Mojo

 
I've been sewing since I was in high school, or maybe junior high.  My parents bought me a used Singer machine (we didn't own one, as my mom doesn't sew) and signed me up for a summer class at a local fabric store.  I learned the basics of sewing (including the frequent use of Mr. Seam Ripper) and of using and maintaining a machine.  After that summer, I went on to sew things from time to time.  I loved sitting on those fabric-store stools and flipping through weighty pattern books (mostly avoiding the Vogue ones, since my teacher had said those patterns were more "advanced"). 

But by the time I'd started college, I wasn't sewing much, finding little in the way of time or inclination.  Then I went to work, married, had a couple of kids, and sewed even less.  I did figure out how to sew improvisationally (i.e. repurposing), though--once turning a huge thrifted circle skirt into a shoulder bag, hair scrunchy (this was 1996), makeup bag, pillow cover, and applique for a thrifted baby's jumper.  That was one enormous skirt.

Actually, I went through a period of several years when I thought it was cheaper and easier to buy thrift store and garage sale items rather than make things myself.  While this was probably true for the most part, I missed the satisfaction of wearing and using my own creations.  So I started sewing again, a little at a time.  After my good old Singer gave up the ghost, my parents even bought me a new machine, a Janome Excel Pro 5124 that came highly recommended.  But then we moved to Japan, and I found myself with the great excuse of not having a place to set up my machine.  Two years later, we moved to a bigger place, et voila, the excuse was gone.  And after buying a couple of stacks of fabric, I broke down and bought a pattern, too.  The purchase of a pattern meant I had to sew.  And I did, last week--I made an Amy Butler Frenchy Bag, above.  I've been an Amy Butler fan for the past four or five years, and I'm so glad I can now purchase not only her patterns (a skirt may be just over the horizon), but her gorgeous fabrics as well.  I think my sewing mojo is back, at long last.

By the way, a couple of great online fabric shops are Sew, Mama, Sew and Purl Soho.

Monday Photowalk: Words and Numbers

While our kids are in Japanese tutoring twice a week, Husband and I often go for long, rambling walks nearby.  Thank goodness Husband's sense of direction is good, because I sometimes lose track of where we are and which direction we should head to get back.  When it's still light out, I try to bring the camera along.  There's always something interesting to see.

Cold Green Tea

 

I should have known the Japanese were right. 

When finding it necessary to make a purchase from a vending machine (they're everywhere--no, I mean it--everywhere), I resisted the ubiquitous summer beverage for the longest time.  I'd drop in my yen and select a world-dominating Coke (when I was feeling naughty) or a low-sugar vitamin/electrolyte drink (when I was feeling nice).  For some reason, I thought these drinks were more refreshing than tea.  It's funny, because I love tea--I drink a pot of hot black tea every morning.  But I figured that for quenching my thirst, tea wasn't the way to go.  Well, I was wrong--and the Japanese people all around me who always seem to have a bottle of green tea with them when they're out and about in warm weather, were right. 

I stand corrected.  Especially now that I've found a bitter green tea (strong teas are my preference) that I can buy in a 2-liter size at the grocery store and have on hand all day.  Yes, few things beat the heat as well as cold green tea, and hey--it's good for you!  When in doubt, the Japanese are right.

What's on the Line?

 

As I mentioned recently, everyone in Japan hangs their washing out to dry.  As far as I can tell, anyway--I've never seen a house or apartment without some kind of apparatus (usually several) set up outside for hanging laundry.  In-ground poles are uncommon since most people don't have a yard, so most laundry-hangers are movable and made of plastic or metal.  Many of the plastic variety are small, meant for little things like socks and unmentionables, and have built-in clips.  We have a few of these (not pictured), but they're pretty much falling apart because a) they're plastic and have been out in the elements for a couple of years and b) they cost 100 yen (basically a dollar) and were likely made in China. 

Anyway, we've never sprung for a larger, mobile pole set-up that's meant to be outside (looks like a heavy-duty clothes rack--we have a smaller one indoors), which would probably live on our lower patio; instead, Husband strung a couple of ropes on the upper deck, and we've bought cute, colorful clips to keep me happy while I hang things out. 

So what's on the line today?  Two pairs of men's underwear (sorry, Husband); my two colorful, summer-weight pairs of Sweetgrass hemp pants which will direly need ironing; the inside-out jersey of the cutest baseball player I know; an apron worn not by me; a pair of Husband's jeans; and assorted items belonging to Clotheshorse First Child, who may or may not have actually worn said items before throwing them on the floor.

If you like clotheslines, be sure to visit Mrs. Washalot's treasure-trove of photos and info.  Enjoy!

Making Lemonade

I read recently that fellow Japan-blogger Fuji Mama is leaving Japan soon.  I know she must be filled with all sorts of conflicting emotions--you know, the feeling that leaving Japan will be heartbreaking but also exciting but also scary but also somehow freeing.  Not to put words into her mouth, or anything, but this is how I would feel.  In fact, I rather expected to be experiencing these emotions right about now.

See, it was never our plan to stay in Japan for five years.  We thought we'd be out in three to four, tops.  Actually, we never put a number to the length of our stay here, which is probably a good thing, since we're unlikely to be going anywhere in the next year or so.   Because we aren't military, we make our own plans, meaning we can stay, or we can go home. 

But there's a third choice: a transfer to another DODDS location.  I say choice, but a transfer is really about luck and seniority (it's the U.S. Government, after all--how well you do your job has no bearing once you're through your probationary period).  If you've got both--luck and seniority-- working for you, you just might wrangle a plum (that's relative, I know) assignment in much-pined-for Europe.

We thought it was our turn this Spring.  Husband went into the transfer round with high hopes, only to have those hopes dashed to bits.  To make a painfully-long, intricate and excessively boring story short, there simply were no jobs available for Husband in any of our preferred locations.  After we heard, we felt pretty sour, let me tell you--I'm sure we looked for several days as if we'd sucked on a whole bushel-basket of lemons.  I wanted to stamp my foot, to complain to someone, anyone, at length.  But there was nothing to be done.  It was what it was. 

Perhaps I should clarify that we love Japan.  We really do.  And the nice thing about loving Japan is that it makes the decision to stay here at least another year an easy one.  It was just the anticipation of going somewhere new, somewhere we might decide to stay for a number of years (a number probably larger than five), somewhere that isn't a full twenty-four-hour-trip away from our home in the States.  Plus, living in a country where you know for a fact you'll never fit in can take its toll on a person--at least a person who is not overwhelmingly delusional.  Because you can trick yourself into a pretty neat existence here--trust me, it's not hard to get comfortable in such a clean, orderly, safe place.   

Well-meaning people have been saying, "it's not so bad here," and they're absolutely right.  I honestly can't complain.  So I'll take those lemons, boil up a nice sugar syrup, and make lemonade.  Lemonade's starting to sound pretty good right now.

Picnics and Clotheslines

It was a nice day for a bike ride to the nearest convenience store to grab some impromptu picnic items--my choices included a delicious single-serving kimchi and an ever-popular onigiri, or rice ball, a family favorite and certainly  a perfect picnic food.  I'd brought along new reading material that I didn't have a chance to peruse.

On the way to our picnic spot, I stopped and photographed this house, which is a bit out of place in its environs and always provokes our curiosity.

Sleepy kitty in window=always photo-worthy.

Clotheslines are everywhere in Japan.  It's a shame there are places in the world that won't allow them.

On the way home, Second Child spotted these ants and insisted we take their photo.  Know the Dog Party in the book Go, Dog, Go?  Well, this is apparently an Ant Party.  We assume they were having their own picnic.

Sorry for the Temporary Service Disruption...

...but First Child and I are in the States for two weeks attending to a family matter, and this may be my only occasion to blog while we're away.  In the meantime, please enjoy the new Destination: Japan merch at momastore.org.  There's some very cool stuff here! 

I just saw these hand towels last week in the Osaka airport and almost bought one (the tea-themed one, as I'm crazy about anything tea-related).  Maybe I'll pick one up on our way back through.  I'm amazed at the mark-up on the adorable food erasers (First Child has a friend who collects fun erasers like this--we marveled at the selection when we bought her birthday presents last year), but hey, MoMa has to make some yen dollars.  First Child will want this suitcase if I show it to her, though the black is a bit boring; she is always envious of Japanese people's four-wheel cases.  They always seem so at-ease with their luggage, while we struggle with our (overloaded, often with books) gargantuan two-wheelers. 

We're fans of tabi socks, too, and I like these because they're cute and cool but not overly-precious.  Did you know that tabi socks are (purportedly) good for you because they give a mini-massage to the pressure point(s) between your big toe and the rest of the piggies?  There, maybe you learned something new today.

Thanks to the New York Times for the heads-up on this new MoMa collection.