Care and feeding

man-dark-silhouetteI am, as you have no doubt figured by now, rather more of an introvert than anything.  Finding some peace and quiet to sit with a good book and a cup of coffee is a pretty much a life goal.  My husband, on the other hand, is an extrovert.  As much as he loves hanging out at home, he actually starts getting twitchy if he doesn’t get to marinate in the wildly swirling energy of a group of people.  Needless to say, Tokyo is a good place for him.

The only real trouble is that he’s caught between wanting to do what I need him to do for my own mental health (take our son off for a few hours so I can have some peace and quiet at home, turn the TV down fairly low, that sort of thing,) and honestly not understanding what I need.  To him, going out with a large group and spending hours talking and eating and going to karaoke 7is as necessary as breathing.  To me… well I like a few hours of that, but it’s exhausting beyond words after a while.  I’m pretty classic.  I need alone time to recover from being social, with fairly few exceptions.

So the other night we went out to celebrate two friends’ birthdays.  It was a wonderful day that was half spent just us as a family, wandering around and seeing the sights as we slowly made our way to the restaurant we were meeting everyone at.  Once there, we had a fun, slightly odd meal of almost all pies, and they wrapped up while I wrangled The Boy.  On the train home there was a flurry of texting, then silence, then more texting.  The Boy and I were ready to get home and crawl into bed, but my husband? He wanted to go back, meet everyone for karaoke at another station not far from us.

So, in a park in Tokyo, on a warm autumn evening, I had to call him to task.  It was an entertaining conversation that never quite reached the argument stage, where I told him to go.  Go play with his friends, sing loud songs about giant robots and argue about whose turn it is next.  He wanted to stay with us, go through the whole bath-and-bed routine with our son.  Watch whatever recorded on the DVR that day.  He wanted to take care of us and make sure we weren’t left out, even though he reeeeeally wanted to go out and play with his friends, and I wanted to go home and take a long bath.

I feel for him.  It’s hard, not understanding at such a visceral level what makes someone else tick.  I don’t see the appeal, myself, of karaoke.  Or of loud restaurants and spending hours at an arcade with the flashing lights and overwhelming noise.  But my husband does.  He thrives on it.  And I love him, so I send him off.  And he tries to understand the other side of that coin, to help me get the time I need, but I think that ultimately it’s much easier for an introvert to send someone away than it is for an extrovert to leave someone behind.

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Photo credit: Bennilover via Visual hunt / CC BY-ND

Vectors

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I am a creature of momentum, and frankly, it makes life really difficult.  I suppose, to a degree, everyone has this problem, and I know I’m not alone in this difficulty.  It’s the reason that kids throw a tantrum when they have to change activities.  It’s why binge-watching has become how people consume television programs.  It’s why gamers will sit down and intend to play for one level or just this one quest, and then get up hours later only thanks to the demands of biology. It’s why knitters lie and say ‘just one more row’ or bookworms claim they’re only reading till the end of the chapter.  Once you’re doing something, it’s so much easier and more satisfying to just keep doing that thing pretty much forever.

Still, most people are capable of getting their butts up at the end of lunch or a break or when they finish the one task they need to complete, in order to move on to the next thing they need to attend do.  Turning off the TV and going to start dinner doesn’t feel like an impossibly difficult thing for most normal folks, and ordinarily, I’m able to manage to force myself to get into the kitchen and feed myself and my family.

It’s just my circumstances right now that are really messing with me.  My sleeping habits are not the greatest, as you’re aware by now.  Added to that, the dark peacefulness of the small hours of the night are the only quiet I really get to myself.  But this translates into not waking up before The Boy does, not that it’d be easy to do that anyway.  Kid’s up at almost 5 am daily and has been since birth.

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Photo credit: Fairy Heart ♥ on Visual hunt / CC BY-SA

So, he gets up and plays in his room, often with a Nintendo DS or the Switch, but there’s Legos and robots and other things to amuse him as well.  Then my husband gets up and gets through his morning routine to get ready for work, and then… well, lately I sleep through all of that.  I’ll wake up when my alarm goes off at quarter till nine.  Now, it’s not an alarm I set to get me out of bed.  It’s an alarm I set to remind me to keep a record of something at nearly the same time every day.  It’s a business thing. And for the past month, I’ve managed to almost sleep right through it.

So the day is already off to a poor start.  Instead of getting up and being ready to leave the house with my husband like I’m supposed to, to walk with The Boy to the market and get the day’s groceries (which was working really well for a while!) we’re lucky to leave the house at all.  I’m in pajamas most weekdays, much to the amusement of a couple of delivery guys who’ve been by.

It’s a struggle that I’m trying to break free of, and my body hasn’t been helping with the back-to-back colds I’ve had in the last few weeks.  The bright side of this is, though, that if I can start writing in the morning like I have the past few days, I can bang out a pretty respectable word count by bedtime.  Which means that I’m making headway on short stories, and on a few other projects.  So there is a small glimmer of light at the end of this tunnel.  I just hope I can shift my habits around a bit and get some more positive momentum going.

After all, the holidays are coming, and nothing wreaks more havoc on a routine than December.

Trouble’s Brewing

Here, my dear, patient readers, is a little teaser excerpt from Brewing Trouble.  The manuscript is finally complete, and off to the editor, so if you see any typos, please feel free to let me know!  After all, even editors are only human.

 

Sarah and Gabe were laughing when they walked into The Apothecary tea shop.  Gabe only helped out a few days a week now that he was working with Sebastian and Kai at the apartments.  He didn’t need to wait tables anymore, and as a result of his schedule, it meant that he was working seven days a week.  Still, he said he liked the atmosphere at the shop, and he’d rather spend a day off there anyway, might as well get paid for it.  Sarah was just glad of the chance to hang out with him.  She liked the kid.

It was still early enough that the shop wasn’t open yet, so the fact that there was nobody in the dining room wasn’t a surprise. The fact that they stepped into the back room to grab their aprons and found Doc being fussed over by the new girl was.

“Doc!  What happened?” Sarah hurried over to inspect the scrape that ran up from the older woman’s elbow.  Meg— the new hire— was dabbing at it with a clean tea cloth.

“I’ll get the front set up,” Gabe said quietly so just Sarah could hear.  He didn’t say that Sarah could handle the Meg Situation.

“Some jerk on a bike damn near ran me over on the way here.  Didn’t even apologize or slow down much.  Just wobbled a bit and kept going, while cussing at me,” Doc scowled.  “Like it’s rude for a pedestrian to be crossing the street in a crosswalk or something.  Jackass.”

“Hold still,” Meg stuffed the cloth into her pocket and started to turn towards the shelves. “Now where’s the first aid kit back here?”

“I’ll get it,” Sarah said.  Nobody wanted Meg rummaging around too much.  All the shop stock was on the front shelves, but in the back of the room were Doc and Sarah’s more specialized supplies.  It wasn’t always easy keeping a community of spirits healthy on a normal day, and in the past six months, abnormal had become much more common.  Wights and Hunters and warlocks and… Sarah sighed and grabbed the small kit near the front of the shelving units.

“Here we go, Doc.  Get to break into the new batch of ointment yourself!”  Sarah winked.

“Wow, is that handmade?”  Meg gasped, her eyes wide.  Doc and Sarah exchanged glances.

“Yep,” Doc answered.  “Made it myself.  I’ve studied herbal remedies for years.”

“Oh my gosh, that is so exciting!  I’m considering that path myself,” Meg gushed while she watched Sarah carefully.  “It would mesh really well with my other skills.  After all, I’m a witch, you know, and it just seems like such a perfectly witchy thing to do.”  Doc’s eyebrows shot up her forehead and Sarah almost dropped the jar at this declaration.  They exchanged glances and turned to look at Meg, who was holding out her hand to take the jar and peer at it curiously, completely oblivious to the other two women.

Sarah reached out mentally, seeking a trace, a wisp of power to confirm the girl’s statement, and came up blank.  Another glance at Doc confirmed that her mentor hadn’t detected anything either.  They shrugged and moved on.  Lots of women called themselves witches.  It was a cool thing, or a spiritual thing, or a wishful thinking thing.  If Meg wanted to call herself a witch and study herbal medicine there was no reason to discourage her, after all.

“My coven leader agrees that it’s worth pursuing,” Meg turned the small jar this way and that, as if she could figure out its secrets just from peering into it.  “She’s really encouraging that way.  It’s so nice to have that sort of guidance in one’s life, you know?  Everyone should have a mentor of some kind, I think, even if they don’t have access to the magic of the deeper mysteries like I do.”

“Well if you want to learn a few things, I could tell you some.  It takes a lot of hard work and focus though, if you want to really know much about it all.  If you really want to pursue it, you need to learn a lot of biology and mainstream medicine as well,” Doc said.  Sarah bit her lip to keep her laugher back and taped the square bandage over the scrape.  It wasn’t bad enough for anything more than that, but it would annoy the older woman every time she bent her arm and noticed the tape.

“Oh, do you mean that?”  Meg was starting to really gush now, and Sarah smiled.  “I’m sure that I’ll be able to pick it up quickly once you start teaching.  I have a true connection to the energies of plants.  My coven leader says she’s never seen anyone as inherently talented in the garden as I am.  She loves it when I come over to help her out with the weeding and harvesting, she says that the plants always seem more lively when I’m done.”

Sarah was not surprised.  Gardens generally look nicer after a bit of attention, but if it made Meg happy, then who was she to judge?  And there were plenty of herbalists out there that had not a lick of magic in them who were true healers.

“I’m always impressed by anyone who can be a healer,” Sarah said.  She finished packing up the first aid kit and returned it to the shelf.  “Doc’s been teaching me a bit, but I don’t know if I could ever be as good as she is.  Or as my gran was, from all I hear.”

“Oh, honey.  You’re an excellent student, don’t be talking yourself down.  Your gran would be so proud of you, and of how far you’ve come in just a few months.”  Doc reached out and put her hand on Sarah’s shoulder, a small, sad smile on her face.

“Where’s your gran?”  Meg asked.

“She died last winter. Cancer,” Sarah answered, washing her hands.  She rummaged under the sink for the cleaner and a rag.  “I hadn’t seen her since I was a kid.  She and my mom had a fight about something, and Mom never forgave her, I guess.”  Sarah shrugged, but the acid mix of emotions stirred in her stomach again.  Regret at never being brave enough to defy her mother until Gran was dead.  Anger and frustration with her mother for being so close-minded and controlling.  Guilt at feeling glad to be away from both her mother and New York City, and at not being a better daughter.

“Holding a grudge only hurts the grudge holder,” Meg shook her head sadly.  “And I guess it hurts the grudge holder’s daughter, too.”  Meg stepped forward for a quick hug.

“That’s very wise, Meg,” Doc said.“And you new her Gran.  Sarah is Rosie’s granddaughter.”

“And my mom was her daughter in law, but I think your point still applies.  I don’t think Mom came out of the whole thing unscathed either.”  Sarah sighed, then shook her head so as not to get lost in memories.

Doc shooed both women in front of her and toward the door like she was herding ducks. “Maybe we can continue this out front, where I’m sure Gabe could use our help.”

“Oh!” Meg jumped, then scurried out to the front.  Doc just laughed quietly and shook her head.

“That girl is sweet.  A bit easily led, but sweet,” Doc said.  “I suppose I can teach her a bit about the teas and what have you.”

“I kind of wonder about this coven, though.  How are we going to deal with our…” Sarah groped for a subtle way to say Spirit customers that need magical help but her imagination failed her.

“Our work with the spirit folk?  We’ll manage,” Doc shrugged.  “It’s a bit of a lull right now, thankfully.  I’m hoping that we have a few weeks at least, between Gabe’s adventures and whatever it was that he saw coming next.  He tried to get a clearer vision, but I guess that seeing what could be and what will be are two entirely different things.”  Doc started pulling supplies down from the shelf and Sarah joined her at the work bench, curious to see what today’s special blend of tea would be.  Doc started with the green tea she favored for blending.  The sweet herbal smell floated through the back room and Sarah took a deep breath to pull the sensation into her body.  The barest fizz of the magic inherent in the tea plants soothed her as much as the familiar scent of the tea.

“Yeah.  He was explaining it to me a little,” Sarah nodded.  “I guess, the more branches there are between now and the possible future event, the fuzzier it is for him.  He can see the past a much clearer, but only little bits of it, like a short internet video or something.”

“Yes,” Doc nodded, measuring the tea into her large mixing bowl with practiced movements.  “Also, he’s still adjusting to being able to call his visions on command instead of whenever the power leaks out of him and takes control.  He’s been practicing every day, though.  I think he’ll get the hang of it sooner rather than later.”

The mint’s bright sharpness swelled, then started blending with the softer green tea as Doc scooped that into her bowl.

“Yeah. He’s a great kid.  Young man, excuse me,” Sarah grinned.  Doc added a large scoop of bright yellow lemon peel and the sunny citrus smell added its note to the chorus of scents.  Sebastian will enjoy this when he stops by.  He always stopped by the door when he came in and took a deep breath, scenting the day’s blend and finding some peace in the moment.  Sarah had noticed it soon after she started working there, and it made her smile every time, even when she was having a terrible day.

Doc mixed the batch with her fingers, carefully sifting through the new blend and making sure she was satisfied with the proportions.  She didn’t use recipes for these, going more by instinct, and Sarah herself was beginning to get a feel for it as well.

“Ready?” Doc flicked her eyes to Sarah for a moment, then to the door out to the front of the shop to make sure they were undisturbed, and they both held their hands over the bowl, casting the enchantment they always infused into their teas.  Good health, and now after everything the Village had survived over the past few months, they also threw in a mild protection charm.

After the spells were cast, Doc rolled her shoulders and gestured to the large tea canister they would use for the day.

“You okay?” Sarah asked.  She scooped the new blend into the canister and tidied up the workspace.

“Yeah.  I think I must have gone down harder than I thought, though.  I’m feeling it a bit,” Doc said.  “You mind if I get some office work done for now?  You can call me if you need anything, but sitting down for a bit and taking it easy feels like a good idea.”

“No problem at all,” Sarah said.  She picked up the canister and headed to the front.  “You take care of yourself.  I’ll bring you a cup in a bit.  And a snack when the food gets here.”

“Oh, good.  There’s supposed to be a purslane and tomato salad today.  Sounds just right.”  Doc winked and headed back to the office, while Sarah bumped the door to the front open with her hip.

Blog post goes here

I’m wiped out, you guys.  I apologize.  I spent last week pretending that I wasn’t sick, then the weekend was The Boy’s birthday.  We went, shockingly enough, to Akihabara.  The Boy wanted to go to the Gundam Cafe (giant robots, you guys.  They’re multi-generational.)

Well, we went, but it seems that so did half of Tokyo.  There was some kind of Pokemon Go thing happening as well, and it was a holiday weekend, and there was a sale at the infamous Yodobashi Camera, and basically, it was a perfect storm of overstimulation and Thoe Boy made it clear that he was Done.

Honestly?  So were the rest of us.

We never made it to dinner and we spent the rest of the holiday weekend crashed out on the sofa watching tv and not really moving much.  I kinda did the same again today, and still feel fairly drained.  I’ve been doing some revisions, and I made dinner, and that’s about it, so no acceptably geeky or writerly post today.  If you are really jonesing for something new to read, there’s a short story posted for Patrons!  Otherwise, I beg your pardon and your patience, and I promise to do better by you next week.dog-sleeping-resting-rest-canine-tired-sleepy

Book Report: Fire Mage

Okay, I grant I read this a little ways back, so my memory is a wee bit fuzzier than I’d prefer as I write this, but honestly, I think you all would enjoy the heck out of it, so here I am.  Fire Mage was one of those books that my husband had to force me to put down so I would actually sleep at some point, the night I picked it up.

StockSnap_Vinicius_AmanoThe two lead characters were both compelling and each had completely believable reasons for going out on their respective adventures, and I rather liked them both.  Scarred since childhood, Jena has spent the past few years in the best place she can remember.  The great mage Thornal shelters her and, despite the prohibition on women using mage spells, teaches her all he knows.  When he is killed at the hands of elite royal assassins, he spends the last of his power to keep her safe and destroy the very thing the assassins were sent for.  As Thornal instructed with his last words, Jena uses her illicit mage skills to destroy her mentor’s hut, reach the supposed safety of the Forest of Ghosts, and get past one of the forest’s creepy guardians.  Once there, she learns more about her late mentor and discovers a sister, Bree, that she never knew of.

Jena is plucky and determined, and as we learn on the way also pretty powerful with a Super Secret Super Power, but she’s not all powerful.  She’s also not prone to fits of hysteria or sulking or any of the common heroine tropes.  She’s inexperienced and aware of it,  and she’s scared, with good reason.  The only complaint I really have is how easily she falls into accepting her newfound sister, and how she’ immediately tries to be close ‘like sisters are.’ Yes, they’re blood relatives, when they both thought they didn’t have any, but sharing DNA doesn’t always automatically mean that people will be close, or even like each other, necessarily.

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Nate is rescued from being murdered by those very same royal assassins by a mercenary under a geas.  This man explains that the Crown Prince— and soon to be king— wants him dead since Nate is in actuality the Long Lost True Heir.  Nate is, shall we say, skeptical.  While he appreciates Argus saving his life and all, he’s clearly a bit cracked if he thinks Nate is anything other than a bastard and a failed mage.  And his refusal to say who he’s working for makes Argus somewhat less than trustworthy.  Argus turns out to be right about one thing, though: Nate is definitely being hunted.  Nate can also see and interact with ghosts, so when he is suddenly haunted by the ghost of a particular, recently dead mage who helps him tap into powers he never knew he had, Nate finds himself on a journey he never wanted, just in a bid to keep himself alive.

I like Nate.  He’s not the sort of hero that simply accepts everything he’s told by whoever he runs into on the journey.  He questions everything, doesn’t trust his companions outside of a narrow band of behaviors, and has a more than healthy amount of skepticism.  It’s a pleasant change from the standard ‘I’m on an adventure s everyone must obviously be just what they present themselves as!’ Attitude that so many heroes adopt the second they set out.  Frankly, I wouldn’t trust Argus either, Nate.  Good call.

Naturally, these two meet up in the Forest of Ghosts when Nate and Argus are desperately trying to outrun some nasty dark rider style creatures made up of thousands of flies.  Not corpses.  Not smoke or brainwashed humans on aggressive horses.  Horse and rider are both made out of flies.  That is both creative and super gross.

Anyway, Nate and Argus make it into the Forest, though Argus is poisoned by the fly-rider things, and from there it’s a merry-is band of four as the sisters, the mage, and the mercenary set out with the vague aim of making it to Argus’ master’s house.  Not that any of them trust the guy, but it’s the only lead they’ve got.

This is already dragging on a bit, so I’m going to wrap up by pointing out that these characters are well worth spending a few hours of your time with. Nate and Jena do feel an attraction to one another, so there is a potential romance floating in the plot.  It’s a series, so the bigger plot doesn’t wrap up, either.  There’s a healthy bit of story left to go in this universe, and frankly, I look forward to going over it.  What, exactly, does it mean that Nate is the prophesied Fire Mage?  How can he leverage that to keep himself alive, and presumably save the world on the way?  How does Jena manage to keep herself alive even though she’s clearly a mage of no small skill herself, which as a woman carries a death sentence?  What happens to Argus and Bree?

The book does end on a cliffhanger.  They reach the interim goal they’d set for themselves, but the book doesn’t take them further than that, and I definitely can’t help but feel like this whole thing is a setup for badness.  As cliffhangers go, it’s a good one.  I definitely want to know what happens next.

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Photo credit: OFTO via Visualhunt.com / CC BY-NC-SA

In the end, this was a thoroughly enjoyable adventure with characters I didn’t get tired of and a decent take on the old Rightful Heir trope.  I would absolutely recommend this book to anyone who wants a fun high fantasy escape.  I have a feeling that book two is going to be worth the wait.  In the meantime, I’m going to check out a few of Trudi Jaye’s other books.   If you want a copy, now’s your chance.  Giveaways don’t happen EVERY day, but aren’t they fun when they do?  What’s next on your TBR list?

Akihabara

I honestly don’t know what to write for this post today.  I spent my weekend mostly just hanging out with family and friends.  We bought The Boy a desk lamp.  He asked to do some school on Saturday morning, so we did that.  We made Science Cookies— simple shortbread cookies that we weighed before and after baking to document any possible changes in mass since his science unit is discussing measuring right now.  Science, for the record, can be super delicious.

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Photo credit: Japón Entre Amigos on Visual Hunt / CC BY-NC-SA

We did run over to Akihabara to meet up with some friends who are in the business of geekery and were over there for work.  If you don’t know what it is, Akihabara is sort of a destination for all things geeky in a Japanese sort of way: anime, manga, video games, and all the related toys and foods and posters and art books and, well, merchandise that is associated with it is for sale and on display.  There are more girls in costumes selling things then I’ve seen about anywhere outside of an *ahem* more adult sort of district.

I could get into the history and all that of the place— and it is pretty interesting— but if you’re unfamiliar with the place all you need to know is that it is now somewhere across between Times Square and a traveling carnival, with an unrelenting theme of crowds and anime style.  It’s also probably the most tourist-dense place I’ve been so far in Tokyo.

The thing of it is, though, is that it’s only a few blocks long.  It’s not even more than maybe two blocks deep, either.  The crowds thin dramatically once you pass an invisible line in the pavement, and suddenly you’re just in Tokyo, albeit with a bit more emphasis on the entertainment industry.  The temple I mentioned a few weeks back was a fairly easy walk from the main strip, but the people there were a distinctly different sort of crowd: more calm, more polite, less inclined to stopping suddenly and pushing across the stream of traffic to get a better view of something.

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So it’s not much of a shock that on our way from the mobbed JR station to our friend’s hotel a few blocks away, we not only left the mass of humanity but also passed a tiny postage-stamp park with a historical marker in it.  It seems that the river (which I hadn’t even known about before, though I’m not surprised by) that runs past Akihabara also once ran past one of the major roads through Japan, from Kyoto to what was then known as Edo.  My husband told me that in the evenings when it’s not oppressively hot and soupy (and probably even when it is, if I’ve learned anything at all about the longtime locals,) young guys gather there for Tokyo-style rap battles.

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We didn’t see anyone there when we passed on Saturday, but I did get to check out the sign and took some photos of the backs of some found-space shops and cafes that are squirreled away in the arches of the train bridge.  I learned a little more about my newly adopted hometown, and, after a few stops for business, I got to have my first okonomiyaki. The restaurant was on a floor full of restaurants in what seemed to be an otherwise normal office building smack dab in the center of the Otaku Mecca.  A small, hidden-n-plain-sight oasis of quiet.

So I guess what I’m saying, really, is that when you’re traveling, it makes sense to dig a little deeper, even at the tourist sites.  Because you never know what you’ll find just off the beaten path.

Influenced

You are no doubt shocked to learn that I am pretty heavily influenced by Japanese folk tales in my writing.  Yes, I’m a longtime anime fan, but well before I discovered the joys of giant robots and magical girls, I knew Hokusai and Fukurokuju.  My grandparents had, in my father’s lifetime, lived in Japan for a while and brought home with them not just art for the walls, but the songs Dad learned in Kindergarten and everyday household stuff like cups and jewelry boxes.

F43A050A-8531-452F-9E7B-10AF557D1A63 (1)So it should come as little surprise that I’ve got an eye for evidence of the more old-fashioned stories in my new hometown, and this weekend I was surrounded by them.  The Boy and I walked over to Skytree Tower last week, using a park as a less congested route, and came across a series of murals.  There were men being confronted by yokai, a woman being murdered, critters dancing under the moon that I am guessing were tanuki…

The Boy?  He was not so impressed.  There were no giant robots or rocket ships in any of the murals.  I feel like I’m failing him, but he’s definitely his father’s son, so I’ll take it.  I took photos of the text that accompanied each picture so that my husband could tell me the stories, but we haven’t gotten that far yet so I’m still free to make things up.  What story should I think of next?

Summer

Holy balls it’s hot here, you guys.  Like, melt into a puddle the moment you step foot outside hot.  Even the hallways in the apartment building are hot and they’re theoretically air conditioned.  It’s get your errands done early in the day hot.  It’s carry an insulated bag for your milk hot.  It’s so hot nobody even wants to wear their skin let alone clothes hot.  And it’s not just the temperature that’s got everyone sweating.  It’s so humid that stepping outside feels like wearing a damp wool bag over your whole body.  It’s so humid that the laundry takes forever to dry on the line.  It’s an itchy, prickly, sticky, soupy heat.

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My kakigouri was lemon, but The Boy prefers melon flavor.

That said, there are ways around it.  You can stay in your apartment with the AC on and play video games (or write!) all day.  The only trouble is that you start to feel a little stir crazy after a bit— especially with an active 8 year old boy involved!  If you can survive the walk, head to a mall or a shopping arcade of some sort.  Always pleasantly air conditioned there’s usually enough to do to spend a few hours.  We could try to figure out how to get to a beach of some sort, but wed have to go buy swimsuits first, and then get on the train for a while, and… well.

So instead we’re settling for a combination of the two above options, with a few others thrown in.  The Boy has developed an instant love of kakigouri and melon soda, and I can’t blame him.  There’s always ice cream, as well.  We each have folding fans we carry around, and can I tell you how much I love my new parasol?  Love.

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Finished setting up!  Now’s the calm before the crowds…

There are benefits to summer, though.  Fireworks and summer festivals and the abundance of produce at the shop across the street.  I enjoy the sound of the cicadas in the odd quiet moment, though I know they drive some folks crazy.  I do wish we had a little space to grew some plants, but then, we do have a small balcony and now a potted rosemary, so we may be closer to a container gardener life than I’d thought.

It’s hot, sure, but I’m finding that I’m enjoying the season anyway.  At the risk of melting every time we go out, I still like to walk to the market and see what’s there, and discovering what’s going on at the park we walk through to get there.  You never know when you’ll find a festival, and where there’s a festival, there’s probably kakigouri.

Life, large and small

14949202534_bacd339174_bI had a blog post all written out but when I looked at it this morning, I kind of hated it.  So I scrapped it and here we are. Post-less and out of ideas first thing on Monday morning.  Ah well.

If you’re following my Facebook or my Instagram, you’ll have seen some of our adventures this weekend.  We got out and about and played, and left our son’s backpack on the train, and got the bag back with everything but his Nintendo Switch.  We had some amazing food, saw some awesome people, and I still have some photos left to post later this week

I got to practice my terrible Japanese a little, which is honestly pretty surprising.  I’m one of that terribly self-conscious sort of people who don’t want to sound like an idiot in any language, and when it’s a language you don’t know well… Well.  But my husband’s friend is super cool and I felt pretty comfortable to try my limited Japanese on her, and in return, she used her somewhat less limited English on me.  We both had beers and honestly, it was kind of perfect.  I hope we get to hang out some more soon.

When we got home last night, we were getting ready for bed, and my husband made a comment about how he can tell that I’m really here now.  When I asked him what he meant, he pointed to the small desk he was standing next to and pointed.

“I’ve never been so happy to see coffee rings,” he said.  I, naturally, threw a pillow at him, but honestly?  I love you too, sweetheart. And I’ll start using a coaster, thanks.

 

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Coffee rings are a symbol of love.  I think.   Photo credit: roger.karlsson on Visual hunt / CC BY

Social life

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Shibuya scramble, photo from Visualhunt

our first week in Tokyo was spent almost entirely in the apartment.  Jet lag, rain, a nasty cold, and just plain exhaustion combined to keep me and The Boy inside playing video games and watching TV.  I didn’t mind too terribly much, but on top of my already shattered attention span, it really hasn’t helped my productive output, word out wise.    I did have a couple of fairly productive days, overall, but not nearly as much as I should have, and I’m feeling a wee bit guilty about that.

On top of that, I’m feeling pretty drained, creatively speaking.  What little energy I’ve had this past week has been all about organization and practical stuff.  Go to the Ward Office and get our papers in order.  Go buy a shelving solution for my clothes.  Figure out how to use the washing machine and the cooking appliances.  (Our microwave is also our oven, and all the instructions are in kanji.  I’ve been cooking everything on the stovetop.)

group-day-out-man-people-friends-park-strolling.jpgSo I took the weekend off.  Well, mostly, but even though our shopping trip was to Daiso for household supplies, it was still out at a mall and we got to do some window shopping.  We went out to lunch, looked at the capsule machines, even managed to hit up a kaiten sushi place!  Saturday night we got to hang out with several folks for popsicles and chatting and fun.  We saw another friend for lunch on yesterday, and last night, we went to the Tower Records Cafe in Shibuya to meet a  friend and enjoy a collaboration cafe for a Granblue Fantasy Cafe experience.  It was silly and fun and the food was surprisingly decent!

I had an amazing weekend talking to other adult human beings and going outside the

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My husband and several plates of Granblue Fantasy themed food!

apartment.   I’m afraid that at a few points I managed to complete word-vomit all over them because I guess I’d had all the chattiness saved up from the past few days.  I mean, I’m introverted, not antisocial, and I’ve been effectively sealed in a box for a week!

It’s a little overboard, probably because everyone wants to see us finally AND they’re in town for a convention, but still.  It’s been really good to see people and be out among other human beings.  I think that when I sit down to work out my next few chapters, I’ll be in better shape to actually get my creativity flowing.  I’m not sure what I’m going to do mid-week to recharge when I need it and it’s just me and The Boy…. Anyone have any suggestions?