Your help needed to celebrate 10 years

It was with a bit of a shock that I realised a couple of weeks ago that it is ten years on Saturday since I started this blog! This is the 2,951st post that I've published! And I'm certain that I'm the only one who has read them all :-)

I was pondering what I should do to mark this event and a friend suggested that I ask for your input. Even if you've only been here a little while or only stop by occasionally, could you write to me at the gmail email address in the sidebar with a memorable post or favourite memory from my blog, or perhaps an overall impression? Tell me how God has used this blog to help you, encourage you, or challenge you. I'll write a post on Saturday with your responses and a few of my own thoughts on this blogging journey and what I've learned through it.

I'm looking forward to hearing from you.

Adventures in editing

My job is full of variety. "Editing" sounds pretty dull. I imagine for most people it evokes bad memories of grammar nazi English teachers and receiving essays back with red marks all over them.

Well, yes, I do do that sort of thing (although much less confrontational than an English teacher giving you a bad mark). Although I have to say that dealing with the nitty-gritty side of the business is not my favourite part. I don't think I could do book editing as a full-time job. My role as a magazine managing editor and social media/website content editor provides a lot more variety than just dealing with words, punctuation, and grammar.

On Monday I went to the annual business meeting of the organisation who publishes Japan Harvest magazine: Japan Evangelical Missionary Association (JEMA), I wrote a bit about them here last year). Business meetings are another thing that I tend to avoid where I can. But this one is a great opportunity to network with mission leaders who I don't get to see face to face at any other time of the year as well as to get a feel for what's going on in this part of the evangelical missionary world in Japan, as various ministries and "commissions" of JEMA get to present a short report.

I usually just attend, but this year I pushed it slightly further. In the reception/refreshments area there were tables available for people who wished to put up a display about their ministry or services etc. I decided to put together a small display about the magazine. 

Rather than just do this on my own I put the idea to the magazine team. It took a while for good ideas to gel, but I've got a creative team. We weren't trying to sell the magazine—this was the choir—all members of JEMA get a copy of the magazine. Though it would have been good to get people brainstorming or volunteering to write for the magazine—we rely on members of JEMA to write our articles—it simply wasn't the right place for that. Conversations were short and often interrupted. People were in a networking frame of mind and time is always short.

This is what we came up with (after 67 comments on my request for ideas in our secret Japan Harvest team Facebook group):

I know it's a bit small for you to read. On the left are four encouraging quotes from readers about our magazine. In the middle there's a guessing competition: Can you guess how many hours goes into putting together one 40-page magazine each time (including the writing of articles)? On the right is an encouragement to check out our articles that are also published online at japanharvest.org. On the table at the far right are Stick-it notes with a suggestion that people could write encouraging notes to the magazine team (all are volunteers).

Our designer made this poster of the team. I love it and after the annual meetings, it's going up in the JEMA admin office.

So, in addition to dealing with lots of words, I also get to work with people—something I couldn't do without. Pictured above is an eclectic team situated in three different countries, who are passionate, not just about the mission of the magazine, but about doing an excellent job.

Another reason I attend this meeting is it's such an encouragement. I had several people tell me how much they appreciate the magazine and what I do. I even, for the first time, had someone tell me how much they appreciate the column that I've been writing on writing. I've been doing this for six years now = 24 articles. It's great to hear that someone especially appreciates it.

We got several encouragements written on the Post-it notes:

"In the past two years, I have really enjoyed the very relevant, practical themes of each issue of the Japan Harvest. Thank you for the many hours put into planning and printing it."

"Thank you very much for a great ministry tool. I have learned so much over the years. 

God Bless."

"Thank you for all the work to produce The Harvest! May it help produce THE HARVEST!"

"Thank you all for your excellent work. I like especially all the culture-related topics and the fresh ideas on how to do missions. You are awesome!"

It's wonderful to know that what we spend many hours doing is actually making an impact and being of help to people.

Oh, and you're wondering about the answer to how many hours it takes to put out this quarterly magazine? My team's best guess was between 850 and 1050 hours (this includes the time taken for writing articles). It's really hard to know, and there are so many variables. But, still, that's a lot of hours! I'm so glad I've got a great team to work with. There's no way I could do this without them and I'm so glad to have this opportunity to work with them in this uncommon ministry.

English encounters in Tokyo

It's been too long since I've been here. I've had several people-intense days and no time or energy for writing. But today the writing "force" is strong and hard to resist. I know when I've been away too long when I can't decide on one single thing to write about...there's a lot buzzing around in my head.

But I'm already running out of time to get traction on my large to-do list, so here's a small offering.

Yesterday I had to print a A3-sized poster. The place to do that here is at a convenience store. It's been many years since I done this, but with no good reason to chicken out, I forged ahead, not knowing how this would go. (I have a dislike of using such machines in Japan, because it's so easy to make a mistake when you're language isn't super.) After all the worst that could happen would be that I'd have to swallow my pride and ask for help!

It turned out that I didn't need help at all. Good thing I speak "American English" though (wink). This was the touch screen that greeted me when I hit the "Language" button. Quite an impressive array of choices.

In English I had no problem negotiating my way through the screens. Then I got some entertainment (sorry for the poor photos, Japanese shops are seriously over-lit!). This screen appeared while I was waiting for my printout. There were three of these that rotated through while I waited. So cute, so Japanese!

I have to note that this machine was located in a convenience store within a stone's thrown of several universities and I suspect there are more foreigners frequenting this area of Tokyo than in many places in Japan. So I can't say that this would be so easy a task in a more rural area! But I am grateful whenever I find English in this country, especially good English.

I had no trouble sorting my rubbish at a local supermarket today. There are certain things that you can put in recycle bins at some supermarkets, but can't "recycle" them from home, that includes milk and juice cartons and polystyrene trays. We usually save them up and I take them every few weeks or so. But I was a little amused by the English on this poster. It seems that the synonyms "trash" and "garbage" have been allocated different meanings. "Garbage" meaning "food rubbish" and "trash" meaning "things that aren't supposed to go in this bin". Very subtle difference!

What does a young man who grew up in Japan look like?

Our eldest son mentioned to me that he's had some interesting reactions to people in Australia finding out where he grew up. Mostly people don't guess that he grew up outside Australia. For one person, however, it went the other way—she'd been told about him and that he was "from Japan", perhaps even "a missionary kid from Japan", but was surprised to find that he was Australian. I'm not sure what she expected, or for that matter, what anyone expects.

Sometimes when we're in Australia it feels like we're a zoo exhibit. "Come and look at this rare species: the missionary family from Japan." My kids have never said that, but I wonder. People wonder what kind of weird we'll be, they invite their kids over to meet the missionary kids. I've had people wonder why I don't have an accent (to which I point out that I do . . . if I'm speaking Japanese words known to Australians, like "kimono", "karate", or "Kyoto").

I found this at a homeware store yesterday.
We've always said, when we're travelling,
that "home is where your toothbrush is".
But home is especially where
those you love are. This, of course,
is messy when your loved ones are
scattered about.

"From Japan" is a funny label that we get slapped with. Because, just like "home", where we are "from" is complex. Our youngest was introduced as "from Japan" when he first went to kindergarten in Australia. No other parents talked to us for months until he finally got an invite to a party and we had opportunity to explain what "from Japan" meant in our case. They thought that their four-year-olds were telling weird stories and they didn't know what to do with our obviously non-Asian faces.

But it has been interesting to watch our eldest son try to figure out what home means. Up until he left home to go to university last February, it was pretty simple. Home was where we were, though that got stretched a little whenever we were in Australia on home assignment. 

Last year, when we were in Australia for six months, he didn't spend as much time with us as we'd anticipated. The house we were living in didn't represent home to him, but later in the year he realised that "home" was really more about the people he felt most at home with rather than the place. And that even though the context was unfamiliar, he felt more at home with us than anywhere else.

Then he visited us in Japan a few weeks ago. Back in the house and context where he'd lived from 2010 to 2018. That really felt like home. Back in his old bed, old routines. Though there were some key things missing, like most of his friends from those years.

So yes, it's messy. Our lives are messy, if you view them through certain monocultural lenses. But we're actually pretty comfortable with our oddities. Perhaps in Japan it is just normal to be odd, as an expat. It's in Australia that we feel more uncomfortable, especially as we have to go around talking about the oddities of what our lives look like.

Was it worth it?

We've had a pretty calm, "normal" week and have started to have the head space to look back and process the last few months. It's easy to look back with regret. 

Home assignment is required by our mission, though how and when you do it is a negotiable thing. So we look at the last six months and start to think: "Did we do the right thing? Did we make the right choices?"

The fact is that there is no good way to do home assignment. It means a lot of disruption in the missionaries' lives. When those missionaries have children at school, that disruption is bigger. If they are teenagers, the disruption escalates to a high level. If those children are settled and the missionaries are established in good-fit ministries, then it seems so unnecessary to volunteer for this amount of disruption.

The other side, though, is that our mission relies on missionaries coming "home" to give a field-side perspective to their mobilisation efforts. People at churches we visit repeatedly say how good it is to see us face-to-face and that that makes a big difference for them.

So, at this point you ask: was it worth the effort? I can't answer that question, though I know we've paid a significant cost as a family to do this home assignment. I also know that there are a few benefits we gained. Here are some tangible ones:

• we went through a crisis in late November that made us, and various related parties, look carefully at our calling to Japan—the result of that was great confirmation that we are indeed in the right place doing the things God has called us to
• home assignment triggered us to get some help for one family member who had been struggling for some time
• we were able to see our extended family members face-to-face and get a feel for how things were going for them: the benefit of that on relationships with them is immeasurable, but definitely not negative
• we also reconnected more deeply with our home church and as a result see the start of changes there with regards to involvement in mission
• I was able to address a slow-burning issue with a psychologist and find remarkable answers that will help me stay this journey long-term
• we got to spend time with our eldest son and witness first hand that his transition to Australia has gone remarkably well (and got to help him on the way to a drivers licence)

There are a variety of benefits that are more difficult to discern, including how this will affect our younger two boys' abilities to transition to Australia after they graduate from high school.

But one, very tangible, result, was a realisation that we can do regular dates now. Many Fridays we dropped our son off to youth group and then went to a local restaurant (and played Scrabble). Our boys are quite old enough to manage a meal on their own (often left-overs). Last night we had our first date-for-no-special-occasion in Japan. I can't remember the last time we did such a thing, and it was great, especially being able to indulge in a spontaneity that has just not been possible for nearly 20 years! We have home assignment to thank for this. Possibly not something our mission leaders had in mind, but I'll take it.

A coffee-flavoured cake called an Opera Cake!

My decaf coffee (8pm at night) came with this dollhouse-sized jug of cream!

Elements of home

A couple of weeks ago a Japanese friend brought back the pot plants that she'd been looking after for me. I was really glad to see them (I missed seeing her, but caught up with her over a cup of coffee last week). My humble (hard-to-kill) pot plants are a small part of what makes this house mine on a longer-term basis, not just a place that we're sleeping for a few months. We didn't have any in Australia, there was no point, but I missed having a few plants to ponder.

I've got a few spare pots, I'm looking forward to adding a couple more plants when spring takes off next month.

This one has come downstairs to our living area. No sun here, but at least it is warm. I'll keep an eye on it to see how much sun it might need. Although according to some people, being located next to the router might kill it!

This is the view from the kitchen through to the dining room and my desk (on the left, just out of view).

Getting back to familiar places is always a good thing to do when trying to re-settle into a place. The school where most of our family spends a lot of their days, has been a great place to return to. I've enjoyed getting back into the parent prayer meetings too. It's a place where transition is common and, though most people have never been to Australia, the idea of leaving Japan for several months, and then returning, is quite normal.

Last week I also made it back to the gym, another familiar place. At this place I can work out for a mere 320 yen (AU$4).

Familiar places and people. All these things make it feel like home, and different to a move to a new place. It has a surreal note to it, though. We're missing some key factors that mess with our heads occasionally. For example, though we are in mid-winter, we've not just had a cold Christmas and some members of the family can be heard humming Christmas carols occasionally. 

Now, five weeks since we arrived, the dust is starting to settle, that includes emotions. Having our eldest visit just after we arrived back was great, but it did muddle things for a bit.

Foil gift

An important value in Japan is to not inconvenience other people (or, another way to say that is: not annoying other people, as I wrote about in a post three years ago). 

As a foreigner, it is not always easy to figure out when you might inconvenience other people and we're still learning. But in a city where space is at a premium, where you put yourself, your children, and your belongings is a serious issue.

But when it comes to doing construction work on your house, you're heading into a land of much inconvenience to others. So we find that construction workers are generally very considerate about things like their vehicles blocking the narrow roads. However, to ward off any potential bad feelings, prior to doing construction it seems that they do an obligatory run around the neighbours to give an apologetic notice accompanied by a gift.

Last year we got a towel from the neighbours behind us. And we got another towel six years ago when a neighbour's fence was being fixed.

This time we got 20m of foil.

A house on our street, about 30 m from ours, has been demolished. It looks like they are going to be building again very soon. The block of land is bordered by two roads, neither of which is very wide. They aren't main roads, but they do get a reasonable amount of traffic on roads that are only about 5m wide. We've caused minor traffic jams by someone stopping near there to pick us up by car. 

Blue rectangle: our house
Red star: the construction site
Green arrow: entrance to kindergarten
Orange arrows: roads

I'll have to write another blog post to explain why there's
white paper suspended from string in the middle of the block!

Obviously, large construction vehicles are going to potentially cause traffic congestion and inconvenience to pedestrians, especially because across the road is a large kindergarten where most kids arrive by bus and on foot. They have a car park, but it is down the street about 50m. 

So, we've received a letter of apology in advance and some foil! I presume the kindergarten and all our neighbours received something similar in the name of keeping neighbourly relationships smooth.

Complicated emotions in the park

Last Thursday I'd had two full days "in the office" and needed to get out. I'd been watching the weather because when you're going to ride your bike several kilometres, you'd rather be doing it at a sunny or still 14˚C than at 0˚C with precipitation or wind. Anyway, Thursday's forecast looked great, so I took off to the park late morning. Turned out to be a good few hours in the park. I'm gradually getting my bike stamina back and rode around 14km.

The park at this time of year is rather brown and dreary. It, like the rest of us, is just waiting for the start of spring. 

In another six weeks or so this area will be flooded with bikes and picnickers sitting under divine pale pink cherry blossoms.

But there were some early glimpses of spring.

 I assume these are types of plum blossoms.

These are the two seats that I've sat on many times before. In summer they are a beautiful shaded spot surrounded by lush, green trees. At this time of year, the sun is welcome, but the outlook a little dull. It was good to be back at another familiar place, a place I'd dreamed about while we were away and ached to be able to visit again. However, my mood was rather morose. 

Complicated feelings caused by a bundle of small and bigger things, including the post-transition-slump. It was a great comfort to be able to reach out virtually to two friends who have become especially dear in recent months. I was feeling inadequate and unworthy. While sitting on this (cold) familiar bench, my friends loved me unconditionally all the way from Australia by "hearing" my pain and telling me not to apologize for the emotional dump. My friends are teaching me another level of being vulnerable that I didn't know I could or needed to go to.

I put this out there, not for sympathy or reader love, but to keep this real. I'm not a superhero and I don't want to pretend that I am. I'm sorry if my post last Tuesday about our eldest son leaving home made you feel that I had it all together. If anything, the past few months have revealed to me even more deeply how flawed and vulnerable I am.

But like all who trust the God of the Bible, I cling to his adequacy, his immovability. I want to be like the wise man of Matthew 7 who had his foundation on rock and his house was not smashed.

Why do you ride when you could drive?

It might seem strange if you never lived in Tokyo, that we often ride our bikes here when we could drive (especially when the weather is nasty). The truth is that often we can get somewhere local faster on a bike than in a car. Tokyo roads are narrow and have low speed limits. Add to that the traffic, including pedestrians and bikes, that you might have to deal with, and driving can be very slow. Not to mention that when you get to the other end, you might, or might not find a free park to put your car in, or have difficulty parking your car. In most cases it is much easier to park a bike!

Here are roads I rode on today:

Note that this narrow road has all sorts of obstacles on the actual road: electricity poles and signs. To drive this you can't actually drive much faster than 20km/h because you'd be dodging these obstacles as well as any pedestrians or cyclists who are sharing the space with you. Not to mention the possibility of kids or other vehicles emerging from the many near-invisible roads that empty onto it. You will often have to give way to oncoming traffic on these narrow roads as it's not possible for two cars to pass easily in all places along the road.

 This one is a bit wider and faster at 30km/h, though still has some poles on the road. There are no dedicated footpaths (sidewalks), the painted lines are to indicate where you should walk.

This is a quite a wide two-lane 40km/h road that wasn't very busy, mostly because it's got t-intersections at either end of its relatively short length.

And the "big" two-laned 50km/h road. Cars were ripping along here, probably faster than the speed limit. I've driven on this road many times, and the lanes are quite narrow in places. There are also many traffic lights, so if you get up to speed, you quickly have to decelerate to stop again.

Here's another 30 km/h road, with a footpath and poles on the road. The white T on the road is to indicate that there is an entering road on the right.

One year anniversary

I shared this photo on social media this day last year.
It sparked a metaphor that was helpful—that the calm
water going over this weir would eventually settle back
into calmness again. As would our lives, after this
farewell and transition.

Today it's one year since our eldest son left home. It was a hard day, even though I left with him. I'm not fond of travelling and the task of taking my son away from his brothers to live in another country, not to mention the tasks that lay in wait for us in Australia didn't fill me with peace. The hardest thing about the day was watching his brothers say goodbye as they went off to school. They'd never known life without him and, though I knew this was the right thing for him, it was hard to see how it was good for them.

However, one year later we've all adjusted and he hasn't crashed and burned. In fact, it's kind of weird to have him here these last couple of weeks, living as though he'd never left! I need to keep reminding myself that he's an adult and lived a pretty independent life in Australia.

It's a different kind of life, though, once they move out. You no longer know what they're up to on a daily basis (especially when communication isn't their forte). You trust that no news is good news and you carry on with daily life "almost" as if they weren't missing.

But I haven't been as devastated as you might imagine. I had someone say to me around this time last year that she couldn't imagine sending her kids overseas for university (admittedly her kids are currently primary aged and they all live in their passport country), but, though it wasn't easy, it wasn't as hard as she imagined. There are several reasons for that.

1. It's normal in the missionary world
As a missionary, it is more "normal" to expect that your children will graduate and move overseas. It's what's happening with all your missionary peers. That means that from the start, our expectations are very different to those who live in a capital city in their passport country and expect that their kids will remain at home during university years. Expectations are powerful things.

2. Our life experience
Both David and I left home at 17 to go to university (admittedly not overseas, but still we lived far enough from home that a daily commute wasn't possible), and we both experienced significant personal and spiritual growth during those uni years. So, it's normal, and indeed positive, in our experience, to leave home after high school.

3. A holistic view of parenting
Another element is the view of parenting that I've held since the beginning of this journey: kids don't complete me. Yes, I wanted to be a mother very strongly. But my boys aren't my main purpose for living and they certainly aren't the centre of my world. At times that view has made parenting hard, as I've struggled to focus on them instead of other things that have been going on, but in general, it's given me a more holistic view of the role that kids have in my life. 

4. Parenting goal
I have also held strongly to the view that my main job as a parent is to raise a child who will eventually leave home as an independent adult, able to contribute positively to society. As I see that happening, I realise that I'm achieving my goal, even if letting go of them hurts. My goal for my boys isn't that they give me joy by being close by.

Wow, I hadn't thought that I had all these reasons. It's been useful to write it out (but believe me, if this were in ink, this would be about the 25th draft, I've made so many changes as I've written!)

Another element is that we knew we were going back to Australia in July, so it wasn't a whole-year farewell (though it felt that way). We didn't actually see as much of him in Australia as we'd expected. But that was a good thing too: we could see that he had a life. He had friends, things to do, and commitments to keep. All good stuff. Indeed, he is well on his way to becoming that independent adult that was our goal all along—so satisfying. And, in letting him go, we're getting the joy that we wouldn't have received if we'd clutched him to ourselves.

Nevertheless, we say goodbye again on Saturday. This time it could be a 10-month farewell. We're not planning to be back in Australia any time soon, but perhaps he'll be back here for Christmas?

However, this time, though it will be sad, it will be just a little easier, because we know he's got a life to return to in Australia and that we've coped without him in our daily lives during the last year.

Snippets from our prayer-newsletter

I have not previously put our prayer letter up on my blog, mostly due to how personal our prayer letter can be and that this blog is public. However, I got a good response last time I did this, so perhaps I might pluck bits out of our prayer/newsletter each time and publish it here also. If you'd like the full two-page publication, do send me an email with your email address and I can put you on our Mailchimp list.

Afternoon winter light on a neighbourhood stream.

Financial report for 2018

During 2018 we received 89% of our budgeted support figure. As we mentioned in our November prayer letter, there has been a change in the exchange rate which means that the Australian dollar is currently not going as far in Japan as it was at the start of the 2018 calendar year. 

The support we receive while we’re on home assignment is always low because around half of our support comes from David’s CAJ salary.

After our November prayer letter we received a handful of pledges and a number of one-off donations. All are very welcome, though OMF tends to look at commitment to ongoing support as more important to us being able to remain on the field long-term.

For your information: we still need $400 more a month promised support to reach 100%. Please pray that the remaining will be promised by new financial pledges of support. If you are interested in supporting us, you can go to this link to notify OMF of your intentions www.omf.org/australia/support/

Returning to Japan roles

A winter sunset across the CAJ soccer field and the local train line.

We have returned to Japan after a six-month home assignment. Our roles are pretty much as they were before we left. While we were gone, some of our responsibilities were covered by colleagues here and a few things we continued to do while in Australia, with the help of Skype, email, and other online communication tools. But it’s good to be back here doing these roles again. 

While we were in Australia, many of you heard us speak about what we do. Could you tell that we are passionate about it? Support and mobilisation were the two key concepts we used. Our roles help support misisionaries to remain in Japan and also Wendy’s roles includes mobilising more people to engage in mission.

David’s involvement in the education of missionary children helps missionary familes stay in Japan. Without CAJ we ourselves would struggle to remain in the country.

Wendy’s work with Japan Harvest magazine helps missionaries by encouraging them in their work as they read about the work that is going on in other parts of Japan. It also helps equip and inspire them as they read about other people’s ideas and ministry experiences.

Wendy’s role in social media with OMF Japan helps spread the work around the world about what it is like to serve in Japan, but also how much Japan needs the gospel and how people can serve here.

CAJ corner

Catching a moving train

by David

Trains are a major part of life in Tokyo. Millions of people catch them each day, but most people wait patiently for the train to stop before getting on. Catching moving trains is the stuff of movies and books. However, starting at CAJ in the middle of the year is much like catching a moving train. The school is up and going at a fast pace, and I have to spend time getting up to speed with everything that is going on.

Even though I tried to keep tabs on big happenings at CAJ while I was gone, I am finding there were so many smaller stories going on with valued colleagues. A cancer surgery here, a birth of a baby there, people deciding to move on at the end of the year (I am so glad I am back early enough to say good-bye!).

Some of my students from last year are preparing to graduate. They are excited about the next stage of life and waiting expectantly for their university offers to arrive.

The momentum of activity here makes it hard to know what to ask you to pray for! Our building program has progressed slowly, with rising costs making us re-think our plans and priorities. We have staffing needs in key leadership and organisation roles. We are wondering how to reach the larger numbers of non-Christian families who want to come to CAJ, with out losing our distinctive community. Pray for all of them?Pray for us

Praise

• Being able to come back to Japan on January 9 and settle quickly into life here.
• For refreshment over Christmas as we visited family.
• For the various people who helped us in early January to quickly pack up and leave Australia and also to settle back into Japan.
• For unexpected opportunities to meet with a few friends in that last week before we flew.
• That our eldest son can visit us for two weeks.
• For the new financial pledges we’ve received as well as the one-off donations.
• For a clear sense that we’re serving where God has called us to serve at this time.

Prayer

• Continune to pray that God would provide us with new financial support pledges ($400 per month) so that we’re able to continue working in Japan fully supported.
• Pray that Centrelink will grant our eldest rent assistance.
• For the boys as they continue to settle back into CAJ, especially adjusting to new subjects. Pray for Doug who has yet to complete some subjects he began online during our time in Australia.
• As always: for wisdom and patience in parenting.
• For strength. We’ve hit the ground running. Pray for good sleep and sufficient rest.
• For CAJ’s building committee as they continue to explore options for replacing old buildings.
• For our home church as they seek more ways to be involved in supporting us.

A grumble and a joy

I'm frustrated and discouraged this afternoon. Being a mum is a hard slog. Being a mum of teenagers is not for the fainthearted. 

I've been trying to help one boy sort out what he's thinking, help him make a decision, but feel like I've failed this afternoon and now he's not talking to me at all. 

For several days another boy has been struggling with time management both before and after school, so I feel like each of the last few days have been on repeat: do the same stupid stuff and get the same bad result. But nothing I've done so far has made much difference, except resulted in conflict. So there hasn't been much joy with them.

I'm glad that I've got other stuff on my plate, so that I can feel like I'm competant at something! Mind you, they still like my cooking, so at least I can feel that I'm getting that right.


Sorry for downloading my complaints on you. 

I'll move on now!

This afternoon I ran into a Japanese colleague who welcomed me "home" with a hug. It was both unexpected and joyful. I do feel "home" and greetings like that only reinforce it.

Did you know that the place we've called home in Japan, Higashikurume city, is home to one of the top 100 views of Japan? I was there at a bad time of day this afternoon, with a little phone camera, but there are some spectacular views that can be seen from just outside our local train station, especially at sunset in winter.

Can you spy Mt Fuji at the end of this corridor of
 buildings in central Higashikurume?