Foot is back. The left one. Not that Sir Foot has been away on holiday. Or fell off as I strolled leisurely around the park, only to notice a few hours later that something wasn`t quite right.......or left. Now while the rest of me is beyond doubt female, Sir Foot, albeit a cross dresser, is decidedly male. I have deduced this because a female would have better sense than to develop an injury when you might just need all your strength and dexterity to flee to safety. (Tokyo is still having aftershocks) Sir Foot has protested that it is in fact ole Achilles that just cannot be brought to heel. A bad carpenter always blames his tools, I say.
"What`s wrong with the foot?" Neighbour enquired as I hobbled around our front garden sorting garbage. "It`s the old Achilles problem," I explained," Thanks for your concern but please don......." And was surprised to hear Neighbour repeat the same question ......but in the opposite direction towards the pathway this time and then hubby`s voice replying, " It`s the old Achilles problem. It`s no problem."
I managed to limp over without too much grimacing. Grimacing with make up on would be frightening enough. Grimacing with a bare face? I`d be up for premeditated murder.
"Thank you!" I breathed in Japanese," But I am okay!" Beaming my broadest smile as Neighbour continued to direct his gaze at hubby. " Must be difficult trying to look after three kids with a sore foot......" to which I interjected, "Thanks again for your concern but when you have three kids you just tend to get on with it!" Topped with another smile.
"It`s no problem, thank you" hubby reassured the Neighbour, who still hadn`t cast a glance in my direction. "Well!" I pushed in...literally with my face in front of hubby`s, trying to engage eye contact with Neighbour," I wouldn`t say totally no problem but you do what you have to do in these situations."
"Right then," grinned Neighbour as I made a gesture of lifting either armpit and sniffing it followed by a quick rendition of Queen`s `The Invisible Man` through pursed lips," Everyone`s okay. See you later," And suddenly acknowledging my presence and holding his hands up in protest," Sorry. English. no no."
"What the hell," I throw at hubby as Neighbour retreats back under his....sorry, into his house."Excuse me but I thought I was speaking Japanese...."
"Leave it,Sweetie.! " soothed hubby ever the diplomat,"Are you going to make me one of your famous bacon butties?"
"I`ll have to gather mt strength about me," I joke," This foot might be affecting a lot more than my walking"
Saturday 30 April 2011
Friday 29 April 2011
Mighty Proud To Be British In Tokyo. Cheers William and Kate!
She looked every inch a princess. `HRH She` being my mate Kate, that is. I was invited to the wedding but didn`t want to risk upstaging anyone. I was even thinking of just popping over for the day but was worried if the paparazzi got word, the mass media`s attention might be wrongly diverted.
Well...Okay....I might be stretching the truth a wee tad but I do know more about her than some of my friends, thanks to the media.
Try and shoot down this gingerbread girl with a heat seeker missile if you can but..... I reckon no country does pomp, pageantry or jubilee with as much panache as the British.
I remember being a lowly newspaper girl.....or should it be `lofty` compared to my current occupation as `general slave`......on July 29th 1981. It took me almost four hours to complete a run that normally took thirty minutes. I didn`t complain. My British `stiff upper lip` kept it resolve from street party to street party where I was plied with every kind of soft drink and grub ever known to half lings.The whole country was in party mode.
I`d like to feel that Princess Diana had something to do with changing Madame Weather`s mind and coaxing the sun out for the day. Kate looked luminescent in her gown. `Which Disney princess is that?` enquired Booby Slayer mesmerised by a real carriage with horsemen appearing on screen. "What`s he doing to her hands,?" wee one asked later on in the ceremony,to which I gave a brief explanation about when a Prince falls in love with a Princess, he gives her a special ring and marries her.
" What does `Give all my worldly goods` mean?" Batboy trilled up, his forehead creased in a frown. " It means you share your things." I swiftly answered, eyes glued onto the screen. "What?" screeched Batboy,"Even your best Lego set?...Yuck! I am never going to marry anybody!" Just as Booby Slayer`s booming tenth count of digits on both hands neared breaking point, pitched against my considerable efforts in listening to wedding vows being exchanged, she suddenly piped up "Mummy. I need more fingers....." and at my look of mystification, " ...for the rings...from all the princes...." As Batboy lugged his Lego sets up to his room....
I feel intoxicated by just watching the scenes from Britain. The crowds, thousands of people so close together, regardless of nationality, race or class, joined together in revelry celebrating a new generation within the Royal Family. I raise a glass to you all...wherever you may be....`May the best of your past be the worst of your future`.
Well...Okay....I might be stretching the truth a wee tad but I do know more about her than some of my friends, thanks to the media.
Try and shoot down this gingerbread girl with a heat seeker missile if you can but..... I reckon no country does pomp, pageantry or jubilee with as much panache as the British.
I remember being a lowly newspaper girl.....or should it be `lofty` compared to my current occupation as `general slave`......on July 29th 1981. It took me almost four hours to complete a run that normally took thirty minutes. I didn`t complain. My British `stiff upper lip` kept it resolve from street party to street party where I was plied with every kind of soft drink and grub ever known to half lings.The whole country was in party mode.
I`d like to feel that Princess Diana had something to do with changing Madame Weather`s mind and coaxing the sun out for the day. Kate looked luminescent in her gown. `Which Disney princess is that?` enquired Booby Slayer mesmerised by a real carriage with horsemen appearing on screen. "What`s he doing to her hands,?" wee one asked later on in the ceremony,to which I gave a brief explanation about when a Prince falls in love with a Princess, he gives her a special ring and marries her.
" What does `Give all my worldly goods` mean?" Batboy trilled up, his forehead creased in a frown. " It means you share your things." I swiftly answered, eyes glued onto the screen. "What?" screeched Batboy,"Even your best Lego set?...Yuck! I am never going to marry anybody!" Just as Booby Slayer`s booming tenth count of digits on both hands neared breaking point, pitched against my considerable efforts in listening to wedding vows being exchanged, she suddenly piped up "Mummy. I need more fingers....." and at my look of mystification, " ...for the rings...from all the princes...." As Batboy lugged his Lego sets up to his room....
I feel intoxicated by just watching the scenes from Britain. The crowds, thousands of people so close together, regardless of nationality, race or class, joined together in revelry celebrating a new generation within the Royal Family. I raise a glass to you all...wherever you may be....`May the best of your past be the worst of your future`.
Thursday 28 April 2011
My Life In Tokyo Post March The 11th.
It was a glorious morn, capped with a vivid ultramarine sky dotted with puffball clouds, tendrils drifting lazily .I was in the garden with The BoobySlayer. Pruning and priming in anticipation of the upcoming cherry blossom season. Bat Boy and Bat Girl arriving home from school, had just stepped out on the patio as I felt the first shakes. "Oh,Mum! Look at the trees!" gasped Batboy in awe. "Let`s go inside," I singsonged. As we stepped inside, the shaking started to intensify.Missiles, rudely dislodged, rained down from all angles. I will never forget standing there, mouth probably agape, three kids clutching my legs, as I struggled to stay standing and deflect flying objects. The noise was indescribable. A roaring. A howling of metal, wood and earth mingled with the screams of my children and neighbours. The rocking gained sudden momentum and we were thrown down onto the ground. I grabbed the patio door with one hand while covering my wee ones`s bodies.
I looked up at the sky. Nope, it hadn`t changed one iota over the past minute, and thought that this was going to be the day we died. At least it was a nice day for it. I suddenly thought of my Gran and one of her most common sayings. `When your number`s up. It`s up.` An image of a giant bingo ball machine popped up...balls bouncing in all directions wildly in my head. Sadness couldn't compete with the all encompassing terror mingled with a smidgen of awe at Mother nature`s capabilities. The lamp posts swinging madly like those little animal springy ride ons that my smallest one so loves. Buildings and vehicles swinging hysterically. And the people being thrown down onto the ground, like straw dollies hurled around by a child having a tantrum.
My life has been split into two parts. The naive pre `11th of march 2.46` me. Waltzing around in my little world, humming a wee ditty, secure in the knowledge that things such as civil war, plague, AIDS, huge earthquakes and tsunamis only happen to other folk...and mainly only actors in a movie. Compared to the post `11th of March` me who has looked under the bed and not only come face to face with the bogeyman but been snogged quite frenziedly by him.
Life in Tokyo is pretty much back to normal. On the surface anyway. Two months ago, the first thing I did of a morn was to put on the kettle.These days, it`s switch on the computer to check our area`s radiation levels. I still pass the same young guy every morning. A fine specimen if ever I saw one. Sweat accentuating every toned muscle as he jogs. He now dons a small Geiger clipped next to his pedanometre.
My mobile phone is now equipped with an earthquake alarm. One that can be set to differing intensities. And what kind of sound you enquire, heralds an earthquake warning? A WW2 air raid siren? A wee tune from Holst`s `The Planets`? Screaming? Nope. A trill that immediately conjures up images of Tinkerbell and conies, not screaming,mass panic, destruction or death. However, in Tokyo, it stirs the same reaction as a siren erupting into life in a biological warfare research centre, with alarms ringing simultaneously .Everyone clamouring to check magnitude and where exactly.
My view on life has changed irrevocably. Transfixed in a moment in time, that you have absolutely no control over, where you feel with your whole being that death is coming, spun my whole spiritual being on it`s axis. I feel so grateful to be alive. I savour every day. Possessions have lost their importance. Nothing, and I mean nothing means more than my family, my friends. I feel a renewed sense of purpose to not waste my life when so many thousands lost theirs.
I looked up at the sky. Nope, it hadn`t changed one iota over the past minute, and thought that this was going to be the day we died. At least it was a nice day for it. I suddenly thought of my Gran and one of her most common sayings. `When your number`s up. It`s up.` An image of a giant bingo ball machine popped up...balls bouncing in all directions wildly in my head. Sadness couldn't compete with the all encompassing terror mingled with a smidgen of awe at Mother nature`s capabilities. The lamp posts swinging madly like those little animal springy ride ons that my smallest one so loves. Buildings and vehicles swinging hysterically. And the people being thrown down onto the ground, like straw dollies hurled around by a child having a tantrum.
My life has been split into two parts. The naive pre `11th of march 2.46` me. Waltzing around in my little world, humming a wee ditty, secure in the knowledge that things such as civil war, plague, AIDS, huge earthquakes and tsunamis only happen to other folk...and mainly only actors in a movie. Compared to the post `11th of March` me who has looked under the bed and not only come face to face with the bogeyman but been snogged quite frenziedly by him.
Life in Tokyo is pretty much back to normal. On the surface anyway. Two months ago, the first thing I did of a morn was to put on the kettle.These days, it`s switch on the computer to check our area`s radiation levels. I still pass the same young guy every morning. A fine specimen if ever I saw one. Sweat accentuating every toned muscle as he jogs. He now dons a small Geiger clipped next to his pedanometre.
My mobile phone is now equipped with an earthquake alarm. One that can be set to differing intensities. And what kind of sound you enquire, heralds an earthquake warning? A WW2 air raid siren? A wee tune from Holst`s `The Planets`? Screaming? Nope. A trill that immediately conjures up images of Tinkerbell and conies, not screaming,mass panic, destruction or death. However, in Tokyo, it stirs the same reaction as a siren erupting into life in a biological warfare research centre, with alarms ringing simultaneously .Everyone clamouring to check magnitude and where exactly.
My view on life has changed irrevocably. Transfixed in a moment in time, that you have absolutely no control over, where you feel with your whole being that death is coming, spun my whole spiritual being on it`s axis. I feel so grateful to be alive. I savour every day. Possessions have lost their importance. Nothing, and I mean nothing means more than my family, my friends. I feel a renewed sense of purpose to not waste my life when so many thousands lost theirs.
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